The Butterfly Room

by Lucinda Riley

  Amy stared at what was obviously an architect’s plan for a house. She shook her head. ‘No.’

  ‘You know the derelict barn about three hundred yards from the back of Admiral House, right on the edge of the land, hidden behind the pine trees?’

  ‘Er, vaguely,’ nodded Amy.

  ‘I know where you mean. I walked down there last weekend,’ said Sebastian. ‘It’s a lovely spot.’

  ‘Exactly,’ said Sam. ‘Well, I’ve had a word with the architect who’s working on the design for the apartments, and he thinks we may well be able to get planning permission to turn the barn into a dwelling. If we can do it, sweetheart’ – he smiled up at Amy – ‘this is going to be our new home. You can see he’s drawn a big galleried sitting room, large kitchen, a playroom for the children . . . and four bedrooms upstairs. So what do you think? How would you like to live in it?’

  Amy forced a smile onto her face and nodded. ‘It looks great,’ she said.

  ‘See, I told you that one day I’d get you a lovely home. What do you think, Seb?’

  Sebastian shuddered at the shortening of his name. ‘I think it looks great. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I really must go and lock myself away. Bye, Sam. Bye, Amy.’ He nodded and left the room.

  ‘Right, who’s for a nice cup of tea?’ asked Posy, trying to ease the obvious tension.

  ‘I’ve got to pop in to the office and make a few phone calls.’ Sam checked his watch. ‘Don’t forget the surveyor’s coming at ten tomorrow morning, will you, Mum?’

  ‘Of course I won’t,’ said Posy.

  ‘And if there are no major hitches, we should be all set to exchange contracts next week.’

  ‘Yes, Sam, you’ve said, three times,’ nodded Posy patiently.

  ‘I suppose I just worry that you’ll change your mind at the last minute, that’s all. You won’t, will you, Mum?’

  ‘No, Sam, I won’t.’

  ‘Right, I’ll come back for you in an hour shall I, Amy?’ said Sam.

  She nodded, wishing he’d never come back for her at all. As her husband left, Amy felt weary and low. She sat down heavily at the kitchen table and both children immediately climbed onto her lap. Posy, seeing the expression on Amy’s face, suggested she put the TV on in the morning room, and the children followed her out.

  ‘You look shattered, my dear,’ Posy said as she returned and put the kettle to boil on the Aga.

  ‘I am,’ sighed Amy. ‘I’m not used to late nights and alcohol. I’m ashamed to say I had far too much and ended up passing out on Sebastian’s sofa.’

  ‘He said as much. Ah well, sometimes it does one the world of good to let one’s hair down.’

  ‘I’ll try not to make a habit of it, Posy. I am a mother, after all. So,’ Amy swiftly changed the subject, ‘how are you feeling about letting go of Admiral House?’

  ‘I’m thinking positive. If we exchange next week, I can go ahead and put an offer in on that darling town house we saw last weekend. So, that’s quite exciting, isn’t it?’

  ‘Is it?’ Amy watched Posy as she poured hot water into a teapot. ‘Are you absolutely sure you want to sell Admiral House?’

  ‘Of course not, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know it’s the right thing to do, because it is.’ She looked across at her daughter-in-law. ‘Sometimes, dear, even when your heart is telling you to go one way, you must follow your head. We all have to make hard decisions at some point in our lives, don’t we?’

  Amy could feel heat rising to her cheeks, even though she knew Posy was referring to her own dilemma. ‘Yes,’ she managed.

  ‘Besides, I really do feel I could be happy in that town house. I’ll miss the garden here, of course, but it’s getting to be far too much for me to manage. So, how would you feel about living in the old barn if Sam does manage to get planning permission?’

  ‘It looked . . . great.’ Amy did her best to feign enthusiasm. ‘But I don’t want to get my hopes up.’

  ‘I rather like the thought of a Montague still being on the land and bringing up their children here. It makes the parting less absolute, and of course it means I can come back for a visit,’ Posy smiled.

  ‘Of course you can,’ agreed Amy. ‘If it happens.’

  ‘I understand your faith in Sam’s business ventures has been sorely tested, but I’ve never seen him so enthused. It must make life easier for you, having a happy husband.’

  Amy could not help feeling Posy was probing, and she couldn’t cope with it just now. ‘Yes, of course it does.’ She stood up. ‘If you don’t mind, I’ll go and watch some TV with the children.’

  Posy watched Amy disappear out of the kitchen and sighed. For once, she wished age had not brought with it such wisdom.

  Chapter 25

  With a big helping hand from Meena, Tammy had worked hard to get the shop into some kind of shape to open properly for business. There had been a list of phone calls to return, consisting of enquiries from the media and potential customers wanting to know her opening hours.

  ‘Tomorrow, we really begin,’ said Meena, as they made another trip downstairs to retrieve the last of the stock from the basement.

  ‘Yes. Right, if that’s the lot, I’m off to Nick’s shop. He’s taking me out to dinner.’ Tammy turned to Meena and smiled. ‘You’ve been such a superstar. Can I take you out to supper next week to say thank you?’

  ‘There is no need, but yes, that would be most enjoyable, Tammy.’

  ‘Well, I couldn’t have done it without you.’ She gave Meena a warm hug.

  ‘And you have given back some purpose to my life, so we are both happy. Have a nice evening and I will see you tomorrow.’

  Tammy arrived at Nick’s shop twenty minutes later and stood in front of it looking in the window. A pair of round art deco mirrors were suspended by invisible wires and an exquisite chandelier made of tiers of delicate Murano glass hung between them over a chaise longue upholstered in its original cream leather. A wave of love and pride washed over her as she entered the shop. She heard loud hammering from downstairs in the basement.

  ‘Darling, it’s me!’ she shouted over the banister.

  ‘Okay! Up in a minute,’ Nick shouted back as the hammering resumed.

  Tammy wandered round the showroom, which was filling up with the pieces Nick had so painstakingly collected over the past two months. From somewhere in the showroom, a mobile rang. She stood up to find it and located it on the satinwood table that Nick was using as his desk.

  ‘Nick, phone!’ she called down the stairs, but the hammering did not stop, so Tammy answered. ‘Hello, Nick Montague’s phone.’

  There was a pause on the line, then the caller rang off. Tammy checked the caller log and saw the number of the most recent call had come up as ‘EN’. She also saw that the number below was ‘Mum’ and noticed that Posy’s area code was the same as ‘EN’, so it was obviously a caller from Southwold. The hammering finally ceased downstairs and Nick emerged at the top of the stairs, sweaty and dusty.

  ‘You missed a call,’ said Tammy. ‘I answered it, but the person put the phone down on me. It was someone called “EN”.’

  ‘Oh yes, that would be a mate of mine who’s checking out a couple of spectacular marble lamp bases for me,’ said Nick, shrugging on his jacket.

  ‘Does he live in London?’ asked Tammy lightly.

  ‘Yup, he lives in London. Right, darling, shall we go?’

  ‘Hello, Sebastian,’ Freddie said as he opened his front door. ‘Thank you so much for coming.’

  ‘Absolute pleasure,’ he replied as Freddie led him through to the sitting room, where a fire burned brightly in the grate. ‘To be honest, I’m grateful for any excuse to part me from my laptop.’

  ‘Hard going, is it?’

  ‘Yes. I’m currently right in the middle of the story. For me, writing a book is rather like swimming the Channel: you start off full of energy and anticipation, then by the time you’re halfway across and can’t see land behind or ahead,
you realise it’s too far to go back, but you’re nowhere near the finishing line. If that makes sense,’ Sebastian added as he sat down in the chair Freddie had indicated.

  ‘Beer, or wine perhaps?’

  ‘A beer would be great, thanks.’

  Freddie came back with two bottles, handed one to Sebastian and sat down. ‘Cheers.’

  ‘Cheers.’

  They both took a swig, then Sebastian waited for Freddie to explain why he wanted to talk to him. It was some time before Freddie took his eyes from the fire.

  ‘I wanted to discuss a couple of things with you, actually. I need what one might call an unbiased opinion. You know Posy, and I believe you care about her, but you aren’t emotionally attached. I also know from your biography in the book that you’re an ex-newshound so you’re unlikely to be shocked by what I have to say.’

  ‘I understand. And of course, nothing you tell me will leave this room.’

  ‘Thank you. It’s difficult to know where to start.’ Freddie scratched his head. ‘Well the first thing is, that I’m rather concerned about this son of Posy’s buying Admiral House.’

  ‘Right. You don’t think he’s trustworthy?’

  ‘It’s not so much him, rather his business partner and backer; a gentleman called Ken Noakes.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘Posy gave me some paperwork to look over and I noticed that this Noakes chap isn’t named as a co-director on the company notepaper or the legal documents. Having been a barrister for over forty years, I’ve come across more dodgy characters from the property business than you can shake a stick at. And if this man is the one funding the entire enterprise, which he must be, as we both know as Sam doesn’t have a bean to his name, the fact he isn’t named as a director immediately roused my suspicions.’

  ‘Right. Well, I can certainly get a friend on my old news desk to take a look at him, see what his track record is like. He can nose out dirt at a few paces.’

  ‘That would be most kind of you, Sebastian. I would so hate to see Posy fleeced over the sale of Admiral House. Between you and me, even though I’ve only met him briefly, I can’t say I’m much of a fan of Sam, but one couldn’t ever say that to a mother, could one?’

  ‘No, one couldn’t.’

  ‘Have you met him?’ Freddie asked.

  ‘Yes, a couple of times actually and I’m afraid I agree with you.’

  ‘I do feel so sorry for that dear wife of his. He strikes me as rather an aggressive character. And Posy has told me often how Amy is so very gentle.’

  ‘She is, yes.’

  Another silence ensued as Freddie stood, stoked up a fire that didn’t need stoking then turned to Sebastian. ‘Darn it! I’m going to need a whisky for this. Want to join me?’

  ‘No, thank you. The afternoon would be a write-off, literally,’ he smiled. Freddie left the room and when he returned with the whisky, his expression was grim. Sebastian realised immediately that all Freddie had said so far was peripheral and only now was he about to hear whatever it was he really wanted to tell him. He watched Freddie sit down and take a great gulp of his drink.

  ‘Well, well,’ he sighed, then looked at Sebastian. ‘Forgive me for procrastinating. You’ll understand why when I tell you. And it will be the first time the information has ever left my lips. I hope I can count on you to keep your own sealed tight.’

  ‘You can,’ agreed Sebastian.

  Freddie took a great shuddering breath, then drained his glass. ‘Right, I shall begin . . .’

  An hour later, Sebastian had joined Freddie in a couple of whiskies and the bottle stood half-empty on the table.

  ‘I seriously don’t know what to say.’

  ‘No,’ agreed Freddie. ‘What can one say?’

  ‘I mean, I’m a writer and I don’t think I could ever dream up such a . . . tragic situation.’

  ‘Well, I can assure you that every word of what I’ve told you is true. Sadly,’ Freddie added. ‘If you look hard enough, you’ll find it all there on the internet.’

  ‘And you’re sure Posy still doesn’t know?’

  ‘She doesn’t, no. I mean, I have to say when I met her again after all this time, I presumed that she would by now. That someone would have told her. But she was away from Admiral House for over twenty-five years.’

  ‘I can believe it, actually,’ said Sebastian. ‘People don’t like to mention unpleasant things to the hurt party. When my wife died, even my closest friends wanted to avoid the subject, let alone strangers.’

  Freddie looked at Sebastian, then at the dying embers of the fire. ‘You do understand why I had to leave her the first time around?’

  ‘I do. You were in an impossible situation.’

  ‘When I realised who she was, and that she didn’t know, I really had no choice. I . . .’ Freddie’s voice cracked and tears appeared in his eyes. ‘It nearly broke me, but I knew it would break her.’

  ‘From what you’ve told me, at the time, it would have done.’

  ‘The question I’ve asked myself over and over is . . .’ Freddie poured himself more whisky. ‘Will the truth break her now?’

  Sebastian tried to empathise, to think how he would feel . . . something he’d learnt to do when in a quandary about a character.

  ‘I just . . . don’t know how she would react, Freddie. With utter shock and disbelief, I expect. Having said that, at least she would understand why you left her.’

  ‘And why I’ve been unable to commit to her. She must wonder what on earth is going on. And the ridiculous thing about it is that, after fifty years, all I want to do is go down on bended knee, tell her I love her, and finally make her mine.’ Freddie reached in his pocket for a handkerchief and blew his nose loudly. ‘Maybe I should just walk away, Sebastian, sell up—’

  ‘And join the Foreign Legion?’

  That at least made Freddie smile. ‘I’m even too old for that! What would you do in my shoes?’

  ‘I think . . . I think I would probably try to find a way to tell her, but that’s just me, because of the life I’ve had. When I lost my wife I realised that one has to seize the day, especially when it comes to love.’

  ‘I agree of course, but once something is said, it can never be unsaid, can it?’

  ‘No, but remember that you were both innocent victims of something beyond your control. I know you have tried to protect her because you care for her so deeply, but you suffered too. She will understand that, I’m sure.’

  ‘I did suffer, yes, and you’re right. Well now, I’ve taken up enough of your time and I’m deeply grateful for your wise words. Perhaps . . . perhaps I should leave telling her until after she has moved out of Admiral House and is embarking on a new life. I feel it might soften the blow – she wouldn’t be living in it, so to speak.’

  ‘I think you’re correct. Let her make the move, which is going to be traumatic in itself, and allow some time for the dust to settle.’ Sebastian stood up and Freddie walked with him to the door. ‘Goodbye, Freddie, let’s keep in touch.’

  ‘Absolutely, and I’m glad you’re there with Posy. I worried about her in that big house all alone.’

  ‘Honestly, if it helps, I think Posy is one of the strongest people I’ve ever met,’ replied Sebastian. ‘I’ll get my mate on the news desk to check out this Ken Noakes too and let you know.’

  Posy was not sleeping well, disturbed by the thought of everything she had to do between now and the move. That morning, Nick had called to apologise for his initial reaction to selling the house and tell her he had asked his old school friend Paul to take a look at the paintings. ‘He’s hoping I’ve missed a Van Gogh,’ her son chuckled.

  ‘Darling boy, you know very well the paintings in the house are daubs that need to end up in a skip, rather than at Sotheby’s.’

  ‘At worst, it’s an excuse to visit Southwold, Mum. You know how fond Paul has always been of you, and Admiral House. He’d like to come to say goodbye.’

  ‘To me or the house?!�
��

  ‘Very funny. So, Paul will be with you around ten on Saturday, and I’ll be there too at some point this weekend.’

  ‘Wonderful. I’ll cook some lunch. Will you bring that lovely lady friend of yours?’

  ‘No, Tammy is very busy at the boutique just now.’

  ‘Well, she needs to come here at some point and decide what she wants from your grandmother’s gown collection. Do ask her for Christmas, won’t you? It will be our last one here, and I’d like as many bodies here as possible to make it a jolly one.’

  ‘I . . . yes, of course.’

  ‘Everything all right between the two of you?’ Posy queried. She knew her son inside out and that slight pause before he’d answered had alerted her.

  ‘They’re fine, Mum. We’re both just very busy, that’s all – talking of which, I have an auction to get to in Lots Road. I’ll text you the number of the local Southwold auctioneer I know, so he can come in and value the contents of the house. I’m warning you, don’t expect to get a lot for it, Mum. Brown furniture is almost worthless these days unless it’s something really special. I’d pick out anything of sentimental value and put it to one side, then hire a couple of skips and get rid of things like beds and sofas that way. You won’t get anything for them.’

  ‘I’m not expecting to, darling.’

  ‘So, the sale is definitely happening?’

  ‘As far as I know, yes.’

  ‘And you’re still okay with it?’

  ‘Whether I’m “okay” or not is immaterial. I really don’t think I have a choice, Nick, unless I can magic up a million or so to restore it.’

  ‘No, you’re right of course. I wish I could spare the cash, but all my funds have been spent on setting up the business.’

  ‘Which is as it should be, Nick. It’s time to move on, however hard it is. It’s the garden I’ll miss most, but at least Sam has told me that a property management company will come in to service the apartments and take good care of the grounds. Besides, I quite fancy some modern furniture and double glazing.’