As the sky began to darken, lights were beginning to be switched on inside, making them seem cosy and inviting.
As always, she caught her breath as No. 24, the house on the end of the row, came into view. It looked exactly the same as when she had been growing up. Nothing had changed, including the red front door. The ancient apple tree remained standing in the large front garden. It even still had that huge branch from which her father had hung a home-made swing for her to play on.
Except, of course, everything had changed. For a start, her family no longer lived there, she thought as the house moved out of view.
‘I always forget how small it is,’ she heard Sam mutter to himself.
Annie immediately felt defensive of her beautiful home village. ‘Actually we’re up to a population of sixty-one people now that Rachel Smith has had her baby.’
Sam turned to raise one eyebrow at her in what she suspected was sarcasm but he said nothing. She was somewhat surprised to realise that he shared the same bright blue eyes as his grandfather. But they were obviously light years apart in terms of their love of Cranley as Arthur was born and bred in the village. He knew every one of his tenants by first name and took great pride in the closeness of the community.
Sam turned the car sharply off the lane, driving past the rusty wrought-iron gates that marked the beginning of the long driveway up to the Hall.
Dusk was falling over the wide fields on either side of the single lane. Annie noticed that a few of the leaves on the many trees and large shrubs which hugged the boundary of the estate were already tinged with yellow, indicating that summer was definitely at an end. That included the huge weeping willow in the middle of the front lawn after which the house had been named. Its elegant fingers of leaves were also beginning to transform from green to a more autumnal yellow, shifting in a gentle breeze as if waving their greeting.
Then Willow Tree Hall came into view. It could still take Annie’s breath away, even though she saw it each and every single day.
Thankfully Sam had slowed the low-slung sports car right down to avoid the huge potholes that dotted the surface of the driveway so she had time to study the large, sandy-coloured stone building.
Built in the Georgian era, it was only two stories high but stretched wide instead. She had always thought it looked like a miniature version of Buckingham Palace. Annie counted sixteen sash windows spread evenly across the pale brick front. The centrepiece was a huge double front door, framed by tall pillars of the same warm-coloured stone. It certainly looked magnificent even in the darkening light.
But even as the light faded, she could still see that it was in desperate need of renovation. Many of the window frames were rotten. The chimney stacks on the roof were leaning at an alarming angle amongst the numerous holes where so many roof tiles were missing. The holes through which the rain had fallen the previous night with such devastating effect, she thought feeling miserable and guilty once more.
‘So,’ began Sam.
But Annie never found out what he was about to say as a massive clang rang out from beneath them at the same time as they ran over a deep crater in the driveway. There was a horrendous grinding noise before the car seemed to dip down before veering off sharply to the right.
Sam slammed on the brakes before they both quickly got out and looked down at the car. Annie saw that it only had three wheels facing the right way. The fourth tyre looked at an alarming angle, having been almost sheared off by a huge pothole a few yards back.
Sam swore under his breath before saying, ‘So much for my quick visit.’
He seemed as unhappy about this news as Annie felt. She didn’t want this haughty man hanging around her home any longer than necessary. She wanted him to go back to wherever he had come from and let them get on with their quiet lives.
But it wasn’t just her home, was it? He was Arthur’s grandson and had a right to be there as well. Even more so than she did, however, it was very odd that the Earl himself hadn’t wanted to talk to his grandson at the hospital. Arthur was normally so personable and friendly. She wondered what had happened between them in the past.
Annie decided that Sam was obviously a troublemaker and she knew enough about bad boys to be extremely wary of him.
Hopefully the car would be easily mended and then he would be on his way before she ever got to find out the reason behind their disagreement.
*
Sam began to feel a stranglehold around his throat as he stood in front of the grand manor house.
I don’t want to be here, he thought as he finished his conversation on his mobile. He felt like lobbing the damn thing out of sight over the huge grounds in frustration.
He had only been supposed to drop Annie back and see his aunt quickly before getting out of there. But the mechanic was going to take at least an hour before arriving to look at his car. He was stuck and would just have to wait out the next sixty minutes.
He was somewhat relieved when Annie left and he watched her walk around the side of the house, presumably to use the back door. It had always been used by their staff and tradesman as long as he could remember. At least she didn’t have the gall to march through the front door. Yet, he added to himself with a scowl.
Of course, when he had been growing up, there had been an elderly butler to open the front door for the family. But he had retired a few years ago and had never been replaced.
Sam glanced down at his mobile, the bright screen shone out in the dusky twilight. Apparently he had 43 unread emails, 37 unread text messages and 14 missed calls. He sighed and stared out across the darkening fields at the front of the estate. When had life become so demanding?
Sam couldn’t remember the last time he had spent a weekend in his own flat in London. He glanced down at his suit and shirt. Or recall when he had last worn his favourite T-shirt and jeans either.
And he couldn’t even go home to change yet, he thought, slowly turning around to look up at Willow Tree Hall in front of him. Dusk had fallen and Annie had begun to switch on some lights in the entrance hall, illuminating the house from inside.
He absolutely did not want to go inside. But the memories were forcing themselves into the front of his mind, flooding it with pictures of happier times. It all seemed a very long time ago now.
The front door suddenly opened and the petite figure of his aunt appeared in the doorway, framed by the light behind her.
‘Samuel?’ called out Rose, hugging her cardigan around her against the chill of the dropping temperature. ‘Is that you?’
‘Hi Aunty,’ he replied, heading towards her.
As he drew her into a hug, he was shocked at how awful she looked. His Aunt Rose was a strong woman with a huge personality and an incredible sense of style. This was in sharp contrast to the pensioner in drab clothes whom he was holding in his arms. What had been going on in the past year when he’d been away?
‘Annie’s just updated me,’ she said in a tremulous voice against his chest. ‘Poor Arthur.’
‘He’s going to be fine,’ Sam told her, leaning back to look down into her face. ‘He’ll be back home before you know it.’
She nodded as if desperately trying to believe him but her hazel eyes were anxious and teary. He noted that she had let her brown hair go completely grey, despite always declaring that she never would. Hopefully, her pale face was just down to the shock of her brother’s accident.
‘Is there any update?’ she asked.
He shook his head. ‘It’s still a bit early. He’ll still be in theatre. Don’t worry. They’re going to call as soon as the operation’s over.’
‘Come on then,’ she said with a sigh, turning away to head inside. ‘It’s too cold to stand out here.’
He absolutely did not want to follow her inside. But he had to admit that there was a tiny part of him that wanted to revisit the place. Perhaps it would be easier without his grandfather frowning at him in disappointment at every turn.
He stepped over the
threshold and turned to pull the front door shut behind him. To his surprise, this was harder than he had first thought as the hinges appeared to have rusted. Finally, with a hard pull, the door groaned to a close.
He turned to stare around the vast entrance hall, the memories rushing over him before he could prevent them. He could suddenly see himself and Will sliding down the oak bannister that wrapped around the huge staircase curving its way up to the first floor. The massive Christmas tree that seemed to fill the whole place when he had been young and their parents were still alive. The chatter and laughter of the whole family as they opened the presents that had been spread out beneath.
His Aunt’s voice brought him back to the present day. ‘I’ll make us a nice cup of tea,’ she said, walking slowly towards the kitchen.
Annie had been flicking through the envelopes on the small nearby table but looked up as Rose went by. ‘Do you want me to make it?’ she called out.
‘No, love,’ said Rose, continuing her journey. ‘It’ll give me something to do. I can’t settle until I know Arthur’s OK.’
Sam was shocked once more by how subdued his aunt was, when she was normally so colourful and full of life. She was obviously upset and concerned for her brother but he had a feeling that her general malaise wasn’t just limited to that particular day.
His gaze moved to Annie who was continuing to look through the pile of post she was holding. What had his brother said about her great legs? They were encased in slim-fitting jeans which helped show off their length. But the denim had worn away in places and her grubby Converse trainers also looked as if they needed replacing. She was far too casual, too young, too attractive to be his grandfather’s housekeeper, he decided.
He realised that she had pulled on a red sweatshirt at some point and he now noticed that she had good reason to. It wasn’t much warmer inside the house than it had been outside in the fresh air.
He walked forward, trying not to let the familiar feelings of guilt and regret overwhelm him along with the past. But as he moved, he realised that all wasn’t as it had always been inside. The wallpaper was curling up at both the top and bottom of the wall by the front door and the paint was cracked and peeling everywhere. It also smelt mouldy and damp. Something was seriously awry.
‘Is the whole place like this?’ he asked aloud.
Annie looked up at him briefly before looking away. ‘Like what?’ Her tone of voice was casual but he knew that she understood.
‘You’d better show me the rest of the house,’ he barked at her.
She put her hands on her hips. ‘I assume you know your way around by now,’ she told him shortly.
He raised his eyebrows at her in surprise at her rude tone. ‘I also want to hear your professional opinion on the place that you’re paid to look after,’ he said.
He watched her eyes widen in alarm. Something was definitely amiss. His initial instinct not to trust her might have been the correct one, he realised.
‘Perhaps I have better things to do right now,’ she finally managed to splutter.
‘No, you don’t,’ he replied, even more concerned about her role in the household now that she appeared so defiant towards him. She appeared very much at home considering it had only been a short time since she had arrived. Things had definitely changed since he’d been away.
With a sigh, she reluctantly put the envelopes down onto the sideboard.
Sam didn’t care. He didn’t need her stroppy attitude at that moment. He needed the truth as to why the entrance hall appeared to be in such bad condition.
Surely the rest of the house would be OK.
Chapter 4
Annie hadn’t expected to be a tour guide that evening. She felt utterly exhausted, weighed down by the rollercoaster of emotions throughout the day. All she wanted was a cup of tea, a shower and to eat her own body weight in chocolate biscuits.
But perhaps it would be quicker to show Sam around than get into an argument with him. Once that was out the way, perhaps he would leave soon after.
Two corridors led off the main entrance hall in opposite directions. As Rose had gone into the kitchen which was in the west wing, Annie led him into the east wing first.
They went through the first doorway on the left and into the drawing room. It had been a grand room once upon a time, she supposed. But the furniture and rugs were all ancient and worn. The draughts whistled up through the floorboards and gaps in the rotten window frames. The ceiling had huge cracks running across from one corner to the other. But she would join Arthur and Rose in there most evenings to keep warm as it had one of only a couple of fireplaces that actually worked. They would chatter about the past whilst having a drink in front of the warmth from the flames. Their company probably made the room feel cosier than it was, but to Annie it was a room filled with happy memories from the past few months.
She watched Sam walk slowly around, hoping he didn’t notice the dust that covered most of the furniture. It wasn’t that she was hopeless with the cleaning but there was always so much else to do, even with Megan helping out two mornings a week. Besides, normally the draughts blew most of the dust from the tables before she had a chance to wipe them.
Although she wasn’t sure why she wanted to impress Sam so much anyway. What had Will called him? The prodigal grandson? That was an understatement, considering he hadn’t been home in at least a year. Although, given the way he had acted since he had returned, Annie was quite glad about that.
She watched him stop by the fireplace, his eyes fixed on the many photo frames on the mantelpiece. There was a lovely picture of Arthur and his late wife. He had been very handsome in his youth but had remained tall and willowy even into old age. In the photograph, the late Countess was standing next to him in her wedding dress, an elegant and beautiful woman.
Amongst the other photos were ones of Sam and Will when they had been children, playing in the grounds in the summertime. Rose had often referred to their childhood as a happy time.
She heard Sam sigh before he walked over to feel the radiator underneath the large sash windows.
‘Cold,’ he said to no one in particular as he straightened up to stare outside the window at the darkening light outside.
Annie couldn’t remember a time when the radiators had ever worked.
‘I can add another log to the fire,’ she said, glancing over at the small blaze in the huge fireplace. Rose had obviously been sitting in there waiting for them to come back. She was understandably very upset about Arthur. They all were.
Sam shook his head. ‘Doesn’t matter,’ he said, looking around the room once more as if in shock.
Perhaps it was a little cold in the house, thought Annie, although she was pretty much immune to it by now. She decided to keep him moving to stop him complaining.
Next to the drawing room was the library. The longest wall was covered from floor to ceiling with a vast number of bookcases which were filled with musty-smelling volumes of numerous classics. A small dark wooden desk and chair were placed nearby. Occasionally, Arthur would wander in there to choose a book to read but other than that it was rarely used.
The only other piece of furniture was the full-size snooker table which filled up the remainder of the room. She watched as Sam took a dusty ball and rolled it slowly across the faded green felt. It was probably the first time it had been used in years.
Perhaps because his grandfather had not had anyone to play games with, she thought sadly.
At the end of the corridor in the east wing was the grand ballroom. It was a large, double-aspect room with walls gilded with what could have been gold but it was hard to see under all the mould and years of decay. There were even a few leaves on the floor which had been blown in through the huge glass doors which led outside onto the terrace. One of the panes of glass had been broken for a long time and was letting in a terrible draught.
Rose had told Annie that in the past the ballroom had been the setting for many grand parties. Royalty
had even been mentioned as having visited Willow Tree Hall. It was certainly a large enough space for a big celebration. But there hadn’t been any parties at the house for a very long time.
*
Any tiny bit of enthusiasm on Sam’s part had waned into non-existence as he and Annie went from room to room.
The library had been depressing in its obvious state of abandonment. He didn’t think anyone had used the snooker table in years.
Now, walking across the creaky, wobbly floorboards of the ballroom, he looked out of the window at the view of the large grounds at the back. In the fading light, he could see the terrace was dotted with overgrown grass and weeds. The couple of large stone pots were cracked and broken, soil spilling out of each of them. Who knew in what state he would find the vegetable patch and walled garden if he dared venture near them? Let alone the stable block and coaching lodge that were hidden out of view down the path towards the mile-long stretch of the river that was also theirs. But he didn’t have the heart or strength at that moment to face any more derelict buildings.
The music room appeared to be a dumping ground for various boxes marked for charity but at least the study felt as if it had been used recently. Arthur’s papers were neatly stacked in piles on the desk. But although the furniture was familiar, like every other room so far, the floorboards were uneven and the faded wallpaper peeled off the walls in great swathes. The fireplaces appeared riddled with soot and the window frames were so rotten that there were gaping holes in each one, causing draughts to rush in from outside.
He couldn’t believe it. The whole place felt cold, unloved and uninhabitable.
How could it have changed so much? He tried to think back to his previous visits over the past couple of years. His hectic workload had meant that he had only visited the Hall once a year at Christmas to drop off the presents and have lunch with the family. Was it possible that he had just not noticed the steady deterioration? ‘How long has it been like this?’ he wondered out loud.
A House to Mend a Broken Heart Page 3