Sunshine and Sweet Peas in Nightingale Square

by Heidi Swain

  ‘We’ve been to school,’ she told me enthusiastically.

  ‘School?’ I laughed.

  ‘Yes,’ she nodded. ‘The one that’s just up the road. I’m going to be going there after the summer, but the lady said I can go in the mornings now if I want to. So I can get used to it.’

  ‘And do you want to?’ I asked, hoping she was going to say yes.

  ‘Of course I do,’ she told me as if I was asking the most ridiculous question in the world. ‘They have a water table and a sand table in the classroom!’

  Luke looked at me and grinned.

  ‘That was the clincher,’ he told me.

  ‘I’m not surprised,’ I said seriously. ‘A water table and a sand table, that’s too good to miss.’

  ‘That’s what I said,’ Jasmine laughed, slipping her hand into mine. ‘Will you come with us in the morning, Kate?’

  ‘Oh,’ I said, the word catching in my throat. ‘I’m not sure.’

  ‘Please,’ she said. ‘I want you and Luke to both take me.’

  I looked at Luke for some indication as to what my answer should be.

  ‘She’s got her heart set on it,’ he said huskily. ‘She’s been asking ever since we got back and like I told you at the farm, there’s no point wasting time now we’ve found our way back to each other.’

  ‘In that case,’ I smiled, squatting down to look at her, ‘I would be honoured to come with you.’

  Without a moment’s hesitation she flung herself into my arms and kissed my cheek.

  ‘Thank you, Kate,’ she beamed, before rushing off again to retrieve the water pistol, which was almost as big as she was.

  ‘That’s your second biggest fan, right there,’ said Luke, gently pulling me to my feet.

  ‘Do you reckon?’

  ‘Without a doubt,’ he said. ‘And please don’t worry about things moving too fast, Kate, you know there’s always been that special bond between your house and mine.’

  ‘Indeed I do,’ I smiled. ‘Now come on, Mark promised me sweet peas.’

  No matter how hard I tried to put it out of my head, I couldn’t stop thinking about the ‘gifts’ and that ‘special bond’ between Prosperous Place and my little house in Nightingale Square, but no matter which direction I came at the conundrum from I couldn’t puzzle out the answer as to what had happened to the missing portrait. So, to save my sanity, I decided to distract myself by carrying on with my home improvements, starting with ripping up the migraine-inducing dining room carpet.

  ‘Wait for me to come over,’ Lisa had said, when I told her of my plans. ‘I’ll give you a hand and if John’s around, I’ll rope him in as well.’

  Despite Lisa’s orders, I decided to forge ahead without them, determined to banish the swirls from sight as soon as possible. To my surprise and relief, the carpet came up with reasonably good grace and beneath it, to my amazement, I discovered what looked like a trap door. There had been no mention of cellars or basements when I bought the house but there was definitely something going on below ground.

  I hesitated, just for a second (Tom had made me watch one too many gory films when we were growing up and they always led to an underground and bloody end) before kneeling down to see what I might need to lever the door free.

  Eventually, ably assisted by a large metal serving spoon from the kitchen, the wood gave way with an ear-splitting, horror-film-worthy creak and steep stone steps leading down into the darkness were revealed. Against my better judgement, which was telling me to wait for my friends, and guided by the torch on my phone, I gingerly made my way down.

  A furtive scrabbling from somewhere deep below made me squeal and I momentarily lost my footing and dropped the garden cane I had wrapped a duster around in lieu of a cobweb brush. My hand flew to my chest as I took a moment to steady my nerves, along with my heart rate, and resolved to climb back up into the light and explore the gloomy place when back-up arrived. I turned to haul myself up the steps, which were far deeper than I had expected, when the beam from my phone caught something bright in the corner furthest away.

  ‘Lisa?’ I shouted back up to the dining room, in the hope that she would answer, but there was no response. ‘John?’

  Cautiously I pressed on. I twitched my phone around the space, shining the light into every corner, just to make sure there weren’t any nasties waiting to leap out and get me. I don’t know what I would have done if there had been of course, but the search settled my silly nerves a little nonetheless.

  Beyond a small table with a broken leg and some stacked wood there didn’t appear to be much to see, but what there was was covered in clinging cobwebs and a deep layer of dust. I didn’t really want to touch or move anything as I knew I’d start coughing and my echoing footsteps were spooky enough without adding my choking to the eerie, musty atmosphere.

  I took a deep, brave breath and shuffled away from the relative sanctuary of my escape route, towards whatever it was that had caught my attention.

  ‘Well, I’ll be . . .’ I muttered as I discovered a tin, a much larger one than the one in the bedroom cupboard, along with something covered in a cloth propped against the wall.

  I carefully pulled the fabric away. It was thin and fragile and tore where it was caught against the edges which were pressed against the wall, but I wasn’t too concerned about damaging an old tablecloth. I was more interested in what was encased underneath it.

  Carefully I knelt on the dusty ground and, with my phone next to me I tried to manoeuvre the frames of what could only be paintings into the limited light so I could get a better look. It was difficult trying to move them around, but I could just about make out through the grime of the protective casings that there was a painting of Prosperous Place, another of the Square, featuring the factory and terraced houses and, joy of joys, a portrait of a young and handsome man with a familiar head of dark curls.

  ‘Oh, yes,’ I squeaked, trying not to breathe in the dusty air my movements had stirred up. ‘Yes, yes, yes.’

  For a moment I forgot I was alone in the grubby cellar and in my mind’s eye I imagined all three of the portraits, cleaned, restored and hanging in their rightful positions back in Prosperous Place. This man, I knew as I peered closer, was Edward, it was definitely him, but I only had seconds to admire the likeness between him and my beloved before the torch on my phone turned itself off.

  ‘Shit,’ I swallowed, reaching to give it a little shake and trying to press what I thought was the button on the side which would turn it back on again. ‘Shit.’

  I sat just long enough for the situation to begin to scare me and then decided to move before my nerves completely got the better of me and I became rooted to the spot and trapped for good. I carefully felt my way to leaning the paintings back against the wall much as I had found them and, tucking my useless phone in my pocket, scrabbled to my feet.

  I put my hands out in front of me, even though I knew there was nothing I could possibly walk into, and made my way slowly back towards the steps. It seemed to take forever, but my hands finally touched the stairs and I could see the light from the dining room above.

  ‘Lisa!’ I called again, but there was still no answer.

  I lifted my foot to begin the ascent and felt something furry brush my hand and heard a definite squeak around my feet. Where were Violet and Dash when I needed them? I clapped my hands together to scare away the mouse and its friends and ignored the voice in my head that said it was more likely to be a rat, a whole host of them, all waiting to feast on some unsuspecting person who had entered their private domain.

  I clapped harder and, in my growing panic, tried to take the steps two at a time but failed and fell with a yelp, landing at the bottom again with a heavy bump. I sat in a heap, dizzy and dazed, terrified that the fall would have hurt the baby.

  ‘Kate!’

  It was Lisa.

  ‘I’m down here,’ I tried to shout back, but my voice didn’t seem to be carrying.

  There was n
oise in the dining room, then feet on the stairs.

  ‘She’s down here,’ I was sure that was John. ‘It’s OK,’ he said, sounding suddenly closer as I began to feel faint. ‘I’ve got you.’

  As my eyes blinked reluctantly open I scowled against the brightness and took a moment to weigh up the outcome of what might have happened before closing them again. Either I was dead and these were the bright lights of heaven or I was in hospital, safe and sound and being looked after in a far earthier place.

  But what about the baby?

  ‘But what about the baby?’

  Had I said that out loud? And if I had, what had happened to my voice? Had I had a sex change?

  ‘Don’t worry, Mr Lonsdale,’ came the reply, ‘we’re sure the baby is fine and so is Mum, but just to be on the safe side we’ve arranged an ultrasound for later.’

  ‘OK, thank you.’

  I felt pressure on the bed next to me and when I opened my eyes again, Luke was sitting in a chair with his head resting on the blankets. I lifted my hand, which felt like it weighed a ton and stroked his messy curls. He shot straight up.

  ‘Hey,’ he said. ‘You’re awake.’

  He moved from the chair to the bed and took my hand in his.

  ‘What happened?’ I croaked.

  My lips and throat felt dry, as if I hadn’t had a drink for a month.

  ‘You passed out,’ he said softly, ‘in your cellar.’

  ‘Did I hit my head?’ I gasped, my hands rushing to my tummy.

  ‘No,’ Luke smiled, ‘John caught you, but you took a while to come round and then passed out again, so you’re in here as a precaution.’

  ‘OK,’ I said, letting out a long, slow breath.

  ‘We can’t have anything happening to you or the baby,’ he smiled. ‘Can we?’

  ‘How do you know about the baby?’ I whispered. ‘I haven’t told anyone.’

  I couldn’t believe he knew. This wasn’t how I had planned to break the news to him at all, obviously, but at least he was smiling.

  ‘Lisa,’ he said.

  I shook my head.

  ‘I haven’t told Lisa.’

  ‘She grabbed your bag to bring to the hospital.’

  I still didn’t understand.

  ‘Are you sure I didn’t hit my head?’ I asked, ‘because none of this is making any sense to me.’

  ‘She was looking inside for your phone,’ he explained. ‘So you would have it here with you when you woke up again.’

  I remembered I had taken it down into the depths with me.

  ‘It was in my pocket,’ I said, shaking my head.

  ‘But there was a pregnancy test wrapped up in your bag,’ he said, ‘a positive pregnancy test.’

  Of course. As unsavoury as it might sound, I hadn’t been able to bring myself to throw it away. It was the only tangible proof I had that there really was a baby.

  ‘I had it all figured out,’ I sniffed, tears threatening to get the better of me. ‘I’d finally worked out how I was going to tell you.’

  Luke nodded. He was still smiling and holding my hand.

  ‘And it certainly wasn’t like this.’

  This ridiculous situation was yet another lesson from the ‘life doesn’t always turn out how you expect it to’ curriculum that I had been grappling with ever since I’d arrived in Nightingale Square. It was another mess in what was turning out to be a rather long line.

  ‘I’m sure it wasn’t,’ Luke laughed, squeezing my hand harder. ‘But just for the record, in case you were wondering, I’m absolutely over the moon.’

  ‘Are you?’ I asked. ‘Are you really?’

  Another mess with a positive outcome then. Lisa would be delighted.

  ‘Of course I am, and before you say anything else, Lisa has already explained to me just how slim the odds were of you ever falling pregnant.’

  I felt the colour come back to my face as I realised that he knew all about the legacy David’s fling had left behind.

  ‘So,’ he added, glossing over what could have been an awkward moment, ‘this just goes to prove that you and I are meant to be together, Kate.’

  ‘As if we needed more proof,’ I smiled shyly.

  My certainty about our relationship had been building and strengthening from the moment I saw him standing in the Cherry Tree Café with Jasmine in his arms, and his reaction to finding out about the baby left me in no doubt of the strength of his feelings for me and mine for him. Feelings that I had once believed I had exhausted on David and that could never be replenished. Thank goodness I had been wrong.

  ‘I know I practically pinched that avocado from you the day we first met and that for a while you thought I was just some shallow idiot who didn’t have the brains to match the brawn.’

  ‘I wouldn’t go that far,’ I interrupted.

  ‘But I love you, Kate,’ he carried on, pinning me with his beautiful deep brown gaze. ‘I’ve been falling for you since Valentine’s Day.’

  He had, I remembered, been a little lost for words when I took my coat off that evening. Was that the moment cupid had struck?

  ‘And I love you too,’ I told him.

  ‘And at the end of the day,’ he said, kissing my hands and then my face, ‘who could possibly want more out of life than to be loved?’

  Epilogue

  Given everything that had happened in, around and because of the wonderful garden at Prosperous Place, it was only fitting that this year’s summer party should take place within its walls, instead of on the green. Everyone, my Wynbridge family included, was invited along to take part. The celebrations kicked off in the early afternoon with everyone crowding into the upstairs room for the second – but this time, without a shadow of a doubt, genuine –portrait-hanging.

  ‘It’s almost like looking in a mirror,’ Luke had told me when Edward, along with the other two paintings, had been returned from the restorers where they had been cleaned and some minor damage to the frames repaired. ‘Even I can see the resemblance is uncanny now.’

  ‘Only our love story is destined to have a far happier ending than Edward and Abigail’s,’ I reminded him.

  ‘That’s true,’ he said, folding me into his embrace and breathing deeply.

  ‘But I don’t suppose we’ll ever really find out how or why the portrait came to be hiding out in my old cellar,’ I sighed.

  The other tin that had been found along with the artwork hadn’t turned up any clues and Harold had given Luke everything he had been hanging on to, but there was nothing extra there either.

  ‘We may yet,’ said Luke, kissing the top of my head. ‘I’m certain it was something to do with Doris or perhaps her parents, and you never know, this place might still be holding on to a few secrets.’

  ‘Well,’ I said with a little shudder, ‘don’t even think about asking me to look in the cellars. I’ve had my fill of going underground for the time being, thank you very much.’

  Edward looked exceedingly proud to finally be home and we all raised a glass in his honour before heading back outside. As exciting as the moment was, I couldn’t stop my thoughts being tinged with a hint of sadness as I thought of Charles and his wife and how devastated they must have been to see the charitable empire they had worked so hard to create crumble. It was a timely reminder, not that I needed another one, that no matter how well you planned, no matter how straight and organised you had things, when life threw you a curveball there was no setting it back on course.

  It was amazing to think that a little less than a year ago I had moved into the Square expecting to embrace singledom and resign myself to the fact that my happy ever after was lost forever, and now I was madly in love, having a baby, had moved in to and was working as property manager of the building whose history had tempted me here in the first place.

  ‘Are you all right?’ Luke asked. ‘Do you need to have a lie down or a rest? You’ve been rushed off your feet getting everything ready for today.’

  ‘We all have,’
I reminded him with a smile. ‘But no, don’t worry. I’m fine. I’m looking forward to the party.’

  Everyone was gathered around the table in the garden, much as they had been at Easter, only now there seemed to be far more people and the table was adorned with jars full of fragrant sweet peas which we had all had a hand in growing.

  ‘I know,’ Lisa began, sounding unusually nervous as she kicked off the speeches, ‘that only a couple of you here will know what I’m talking about, but—’ she stopped and took a deep breath while Heather and I exchanged glances, ‘I won!’

  ‘The competition?’ Heather squealed.

  ‘Yes,’ Lisa grinned, clapping her hands together, ‘I won!’

  The applause, whoops and cheers that echoed around the walls were a wonderful testament to just how much my friend was loved, but she looked a little confused as everyone joined in.

  ‘We all know!’ Luke shouted across the table at her. ‘John told us.’

  She turned to face her husband.

  ‘I told you to keep it a secret,’ she scolded, but all the while laughing. ‘I didn’t want anyone to know in case I didn’t get it.’

  John picked her up and spun her round.

  ‘I was never in any doubt that you would win once you told me you’d made the shortlist,’ he laughed back. ‘I’ve been telling you to get on with it for years.’

  ‘He has, Mum,’ Tamsin butted in, ‘and every year Santa buys you a new notebook, so it isn’t as if you haven’t had anything to write in.’

  Lisa shook her head.

  ‘So what happens now?’ I asked her.

  ‘I’m going down to London next week,’ she blushed, ‘for a champagne reception and presentation and to sign the contract. I can’t believe it! I’ve got nothing to wear!’

  I promised her we would go shopping at the weekend and then it was Heather’s turn to share her news. Glen jiggled Evie on his lap and looked fondly up at his wife who patiently waited for the furore to die down a little.

  ‘If you’re going to tell us you’re expecting,’ Mark called out, ‘we’ve already guessed that.’

  Heather poked her tongue out, making Archie and Jasmine giggle, and ran a hand over her pronounced bump.