A House to Mend a Broken Heart

by Sherlock, Alison

  ‘How can you not remember the way?’ said Sam, going up to give his childhood friend a slap on the back. ‘You’ve been here often enough.’

  ‘Gimme a break,’ said Alex, smiling. ‘It’s been years. Although they’ve been kinder to your face than my beloved Willow Tree Hall.’

  ‘What do you think?’ asked Sam, looking up at the outside of the house which was dotted with scaffolding and holes.

  ‘I’d forgotten how big it is,’ said Alex. ‘All this place needs is Maggie Smith.’

  ‘I think you’re the only dame around here,’ Sam told him with a grin.

  I can’t believe you’re even here! You! Lord of the Manor at last! Should I curtsey?’

  ‘Only on days ending in a y,’ drawled Sam. ‘And I’m hardly a Lord.’

  Yet, he thought with a nervous gulp.

  But he was glad to see his friend. It had always been the same back and forth with Alex. To the interior design world he was now Alessandro but Sam had known him when he was plain old Alex Smith at school.

  The chatterbox mouth was inherited from his Spanish mother. As were his dark good looks. His lack of height and roving eye came from his father. But whereas Papa Smith preferred buxom secretaries, Alex’s tastes ran to the trim and muscular men at the gym.

  Alex shook his head in disbelief. ‘What the hell are you going to do out here in the countryside? Grow a vegetable patch?’

  ‘Bert the gardener is way ahead of me so that’s not an option. Anyway, forget about me. I still can’t believe you’ve left the fashion industry.’

  Alex grimaced. ‘I had to. I just couldn’t take it anymore. It was like a scene from The Walking Dead last fashion week. I kept expecting Edward Cullen to make an appearance.’

  ‘Talking of models, you missed Cassandra yesterday when she popped in for a visit.’

  ‘Then I timed my visit extremely well,’ said Alex.

  Sam smiled. Alex had made his disdain of Cassandra very clear during the past few months whenever they had spoken on the phone. There would never be enough room for two divas in the same house at one time.

  They stepped into the hallway and Alex whistled in a low tone at the mess. ‘Is it a renovation or a demolition?’ he asked, shaking his head.

  Sam sighed. The place had certainly deteriorated in looks since Kevin and his merry band of builders had arrived. The old plaster had been chipped away at the walls but only in certain areas so it appeared like a patchwork quilt. The grand staircase had lost its rotten banister and wobbly balustrades, which were in a pile of debris in the middle of the room.

  The front doors were wide open and the whole place felt chilly and unloved.

  But Sam was confident that the tide would change soon. He had even managed to persuade Kevin to make his team work on a Saturday so that he could start to see real progress being made. At an extra charge, of course.

  ‘Right, give me the tour,’ said Alex, his eyes flicking around and missing nothing.

  They wandered through the downstairs rooms, all of which were in various stages of disrepair. As they carried on, Alex commented, ‘Good light in here.’ In addition to, ‘Great fireplace’ and ‘nice arse’ at various builders as they bent over in their work.

  When they had been through the whole house, they finally headed into the kitchen which was heaving with workman all helping themselves to yet more cups of tea.

  One of them was eyeing up Annie. ‘At least come out for a drink with me some time. Trust me.’ He waggled his eyebrows at her. ‘I know how to please a woman.’

  Sam watched a blush spread across her cheeks as she silently collected their dirty mugs from the table.

  But the builder wasn’t giving up that easily. ‘Men like me don’t grow on trees, you know.’

  ‘That’s because they normally swing beneath them,’ snapped Sam. ‘Right, you lot. Back to work. Go on, hop it.’

  Alex raised his eyebrows at Sam’s reaction but turned his attention back to Annie.

  ‘Just ignore them, darling,’ he told her. ‘They are most definitely at the lower end of the food chain.’

  ‘So am I, according to some,’ she replied, flitting a brief glance at Sam.

  Alex chuckled. ‘Alex Smith, interior decorator extraordinaire.’

  Annie shook his hand. ‘Annie Rogers. Lowly housekeeper,’ she told him before leaving the kitchen.

  ‘Oh, I like her,’ said Alex, nodding his approval. ‘She’s got spirit. Do I detect a hint of disapproval?’

  Sam sank down at the table. ‘God, yes.’

  ‘Well, I suppose she’s been taking care of your grandad all these months whilst you’ve been, er, away.’

  Sam picked up the biscuit tin and found it empty. ‘They seem to be close.’

  ‘Closer than you’ve been to dear old Arthur for a long time, I imagine. What’s her story?’ asked Alex, shivering and edging his chair nearer to the ancient Aga.

  ‘I have no idea. She won’t tell me.’

  ‘To be fair, you haven’t known each other very long.’

  ‘I’m trying, aren’t I?’ said Sam in anguish. ‘I’m doing the place up, aren’t I?’

  ‘And then what?’ asked Alex.

  Sam blew out a long breath. ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Well, once they’re finished, I’ll make it lovely once more,’ said Ales, looking around. ‘You know, how it used to be.’

  Sam felt gloomy. ‘Nothing is as it used to be.’

  ‘How’s your grandad?’

  ‘Angry. Upset. Proud.’ Sam sighed. ‘Old. Much older.’

  ‘Aren’t we all?’

  Sam looked at him. ‘What do you think about the builders?’

  Alex scrunched up his nose. ‘They’re a bit rural, mate. Are you sure they know what they’re doing?’

  ‘I don’t even know what I’m doing,’ said Sam.

  ‘Look, I’ll draw up a few design ideas and send them over to you,’ Alex told him. ‘What about our pretty housekeeper? Are you sure she can cope with all this whilst you keep flitting off out of the country?’

  ‘Of course she can.’

  But even Sam heard the lie in his own voice.

  He would make amends, he promised himself. He would make it all right when he returned in a fortnight’s time.

  Willow Tree Hall would surely survive until then.

  Chapter 16

  Annie had enjoyed meeting Alex so had found herself despondent when he left, swiftly followed by Sam. The house felt very empty once more.

  As he left, Sam had told her, ‘Look. I’ll get all this fixed, OK?’

  But the only thing that had changed since his departure two weeks previously was that autumn had arrived.

  As she peered out of one of the bedroom windows, she could see that most of the maple trees had already dropped their leaves. Their spectacular shades of red, orange and purple were scattered on the ground beneath the trees. Elsewhere, the colourful display was in full riot. The leaves on the many trees and large shrubs which hugged the boundary of the estate were already deep shades of russet and yellow, glorious in their spectacular autumn tints. That included the huge weeping willow tree in the middle of the front law. Its long leaves had transformed over the last few weeks into a deep shade of gold.

  She had taken a photo of it the previous day to Arthur’s nursing home. But he had been more interested in showing her the hydrotherapy suite that had just been installed.

  ‘I’ll need my swimming trunks,’ Arthur had told her.

  Annie was amazed to think that Arthur even had swimming trunks that would be respectable so she had made a note to buy him a new pair. But she had been pleased with his progress. Arthur was now using two crutches instead of the walking frame.

  ‘Next week, I might even go down to the one crutch,’ he told her.

  However it was his spirit that seemed lighter. He was having lunch in the dining room each day and was full of the other patients’ tales whenever Annie went to visit him. There were exercise
classes and movie theatre afternoons in the large lounge and, from what she had heard, even a spirited game of darts every day. She was just pleased that Arthur was as far away from the Hall as he could be, given the mess everywhere.

  She continued to stare out from the first floor, watching as the builders once more left on the stroke of four o’clock. Their destruction must have finished for the day. A low mist was already rising from the cold ground, heralding another possible frosty night. A cool breeze blew in through the gap in the wall where the window should have been. Would they ever have windows again? A rainproof roof? Heating? Hot water?

  With a shiver, she turned away to cross the room. As she did so, she spotted Sam’s black jumper that she had shrunk in the wash. He had used this room when he had stayed two weeks ago. The thought of him lying in that bed did all kinds of things to her imagination.

  She absent-mindedly picked up the jumper. Feeling the soft cashmere against her cheek, she thought she could detect a faint aroma of his woody aftershave. She didn’t know why it comforted her but it did. She pulled it over her head. It fitted her perfectly. Anyway, she needed the extra layers as a plummeting temperature was forecast for the following day.

  She spent a while checking each bedroom for signs of progress, finding, with no surprise, absolutely none whatsoever. If anything, it all seemed even worse with no sign of anything ever being fixed or finished. Walking along the corridors, she realised that she felt very alone in the big house by herself. She was used to the creaks and groans of the place but it didn’t feel right anymore. Not that it wasn’t a relief from the relentless noise each and every day.

  But for now, it was empty. With a shiver she realised the date. It was Halloween. And she was living in her very own scary shack.

  Deciding to make a cup of tea, if only to pass the time and distract herself from an onset of gloom, she went towards the first floor landing where the sight before her filled her with horror. The stairs were missing. There was nothing but air between her and the ground floor.

  ‘What’s this?’ she cried aloud. ‘Where’s the staircase?’

  She had come upstairs hours ago, deciding to pack away Arthur’s bed linen as it was covered in dust and debris. She had then bagged up most of the linen cupboard as it was equally dirty.

  In the meantime, the builders had set to work with yet more demolition, which must have included removing the staircase. Annie was briefly horrified by the thought of the lovely, classic staircase being dismantled, before she arrived at a more pressing question.

  ‘How do I get down?’ she said out loud.

  But peering over the ledge she found the answer. In the dark, late afternoon light, she could just about spot a ladder that had been propped up against the top floor.

  ‘I can’t,’ she muttered, beginning to back away.

  It wasn’t that she was afraid of heights. She just really didn’t like them. The trouble was, there was no other way down and she had left her mobile phone downstairs somewhere.

  ‘I’m such an idiot!’ she ranted at herself. Why of all times had she left her phone behind?

  But she had to get downstairs somehow.

  Feeling absolutely terrified, she slowly crouched down at the edge, swinging her leg out. Waving it about in the air, she finally connected with the ladder. Then she moved her other leg to join it. Her heart was thumping as she clung to the top rung. But her legs had turned to jelly and she wasn’t sure if she could move.

  Annie glanced down and wished she hadn’t because she could see how far down it was to the floor below. She spun her head back to stare at the top of the ladder and took a gulp. Then she moved her left foot down to the next rung. And then her right foot followed. She took her time, feeling every limb shaking in fear.

  Please don’t let me fall, she prayed.

  But she kept moving one foot at a time, slowly and surely.

  She allowed herself another glance down. Nearly there, she told herself. Keep going.

  With a shaky breath, she carried on her slow descent until her feet finally touched the ground.

  Then Annie burst into tears.

  *

  Sam pressed his foot down hard on the accelerator as he drove through the outskirts of Cranley village. The hands-free line rang out loud in the car but there was no answer.

  He was beginning to get worried. He had been trying Annie’s mobile for a couple of hours but there had been no reply. His first thought was that she had been at the nursing home and that something had happened to his grandad. But the nurse had assured him that all was OK and that Arthur was playing chess with another patient.

  He made a promise to himself that he would visit his grandfather the following day. What if he had taken a turn for the worse and Sam hadn’t been there? Despite everything, he would never have been able to forgive himself. But that didn’t give any explanation as to Annie’s absence. Had she had enough and left Willow Tree Hall? It didn’t seem possible, but she had been telling him over and over how bad it was with the builders.

  Maybe she was at a Halloween party, but she hadn’t mentioned anything the previous evening when they had spoken. As usual, they had discussed the builder’s lack of progress and not much else. He hadn’t had time to message her to let her know that he had caught an earlier plane and would be home that evening.

  He pulled into the driveway and slowed down the car in deference to the potholes. He was relieved that he had managed to organise rental of a Range Rover for the time being. It was vastly more practical than the Porsche, but even so, the driveway was another thing to add to his list of things to get sorted.

  But finding Annie was his top priority at that moment.

  He knew he shouldn’t be worried about her. She was spiky and angry with him nearly all the time. Sarcastic. Borderline rude on many occasions. And yet, she cared for his grandfather and vice versa. She had looked after Arthur and Aunt Rose when no one else had been around. He remembered the tears she had shed at the hospital when he had first met her. There was a vulnerability to her. And he had left her completely alone in a huge, dilapidated house with a bunch of dodgy builders.

  He skidded the car to a halt in front of Willow Tree Hall and was dismayed to find it unlit. There really was no one at home. But then he noticed a small light in the garage. Bracing himself for the prospect of either burglars, squatters or something even worse, he drew himself up to his full height and headed over to where one of the doors had been wedged open with a brick.

  In the middle of the garage, which was now packed to the rafters with boxes, he found Annie sitting on a wooden crate, eating Nutella out of a jar with a teaspoon. ‘Hello,’ he said.

  She jumped at the sound of his voice before breaking into a wide smile. ‘Hello!’ she said, far more enthusiastically than he had ever heard her speak before.

  That was when he noticed the empty bottle of wine lying on the floor next to the crate and realised that she was more than a little drunk. ‘Been having a party?’ he asked, raising his eyebrows in amusement.

  She shook her head. ‘Not dressed for a party,’ she said, dissolving into despondency.

  She glanced down at the black sweater and jeans she was wearing. He realised with a jolt that she was wearing his black sweater that had shrunk in the washing machine. It certainly looked much better on her than it had ever done on him.

  But something must be very wrong for her to have got into this state. ‘Is that all you’ve had to eat?’ he asked gently, nodding at the jar she was holding.

  ‘Needed sugar,’ she told him with a heavy sigh.

  ‘Come on,’ he said, going over to stand in front of her. ‘Let’s get you back inside the house.’

  He tried to pull her up to stand but she was resolutely staying put.

  ‘No, no, no,’ she murmured, clutching hold of the crate. ‘I don’t want to go back in there when it’s like that. Let’s stay here.’ She looked over his shoulder into the darkness outside. ‘Anyway it’s a new moon and
that’s my favourite.

  ‘Look, I know it’s a mess in there,’ he began to say.

  ‘You have no idea,’ she said, sounding near to tears.

  He blew out a long sigh and realised he could see his breath in the dim light of the lamp nearby. Night had drawn in and brought with it a temperature hovering around freezing.

  ‘Well, if we’re staying in here for a while,’ he said, going to the open door and nudging aside the brick with his foot. ‘Let’s keep what little warmth there is inside, eh?’

  The metal door swung to a close with a loud clang.

  Suddenly Annie began to laugh. It was a delightful sound and one that he had never heard before.

  ‘What’s so funny?’ he asked, wondering how drunk she actually was.

  Between hysterical giggles, she managed to say, ‘Because the door wedges itself shut and the only way to open it is from the outside.’

  He gaped at her. ‘Which means?’

  ‘We’re stuck,’ she told him, as her laughter abruptly stopped.

  He frantically looked around. ‘Where’s your mobile?’

  She shrugged her shoulders and frowned hard in thought. ‘In the house,’ she eventually replied.

  And his own phone was still in the car where he had left it in such a rush.

  He began to push at the door but it refused to budge even an inch. He turned to look at Annie who was sucking on the teaspoon, completely unpanicked by the fact that they were both locked in there for goodness knows how long.

  ‘Have you got stuck in here before?’

  She nodded. ‘Early one morning last week.’

  ‘How did you get out?’

  She appeared to take a long time to remember. ‘I shouted out to the builders when they arrived. It was only for about half an hour. The peace was quite nice.’

  But it was nine o’clock at night and nobody would be back until the following morning.

  And the dimly lit lamp had just gone out.

  *

  Annie stared into the darkness. ‘What’s happened?’ she whispered, touching her eyelids. ‘Have I gone blind?’

  ‘I think the battery has run out in the lamp,’ came Sam’s dry reply.