Doing his best to push his family to the back of his mind – the place where he managed to keep them for most of the time – Edward thought of what Abi had told him about her plans for the hall and how she wanted to share the place with creatives. It was a lovely idea even if it was one he wasn’t totally sure he approved of. Yet. But, looking at the landscape around him with its verdant fields in rich yellows and lush greens, the hills that rose so majestically and the ribbons of chalk that danced across them, it wasn’t any wonder that she wanted to share it with like-minded people – people who could not only see the beauty around them, but who could translate that into something equally beautiful. Edward envied artists that talent. He didn’t have an artistic bone in his body. Well, other than being able to see the potential in Winfield Hall and helping to bring it back to life – that was sort of creative, wasn’t it? But he didn’t have that lightness that Abi seemed to exude. He’d watched her when she’d talked with such passion about artists, her blue eyes lit up with excitement as she told him about her future plans. If only he could express himself with such ease and enthusiasm. He had passions: for his job and for Winfield, but he always had trouble expressing such things. He’d always admired those who could just talk. Perhaps it was because his job was one where he talked about dry facts and dull figures, although they weren’t dry and dull to him. But you couldn’t get as excited about those in the same way you could about a beautiful painting or a heart-stirring piece of music, could you?
But Edward knew it was more than that. He wasn’t the kind of personality to enthuse. He was reticent, an introvert, buttoned-up even. Yes, he was all those things that were frowned upon in a world that rewarded extroverts who shouted their opinions whenever and wherever they could. But that didn’t mean he didn’t feel things because he did, very deeply. It was just that he didn’t always express them and that sometimes meant that he came across as abrupt and a little distant. He didn’t mean to be, but that’s just the way people interpreted him and he wasn’t comfortable or confident enough to explain.
Perhaps that was another reason why he’d fallen in love with Winfield. It was the perfect place to escape to. Of course, he and Abigail would be renting out some of the space to other people but, for the most part, it would be theirs. A space – a very spacious space – in which to hide away from the world, to shut oneself off, to retreat far from the madding crowd, and lick one’s wounds, to contemplate nothing but the sky, the hills and the trees. Everyone should have the luxury of such a place, he thought, and he could see why Abigail wanted to share it with those who might not be able to afford it ordinarily. He liked that quality in her – that willingness to share. She was comfortable reaching out to people, wasn’t she? Whereas he wanted to shut himself away from others.
He turned back. As much as he wanted to stride out and lose himself in the fields and woods that surrounded Winfield, he really should be tackling one of the many jobs that needed doing. He could walk another day, he told himself, knowing that he’d made a vow that his move here was going to coincide with him being kinder to himself. He’d promised that he was going to take more time off from work and learn how to relax. Well, that was all right in principle, he thought, but not when you had a massive house to renovate and still had to find employment. He’d relax another time – at some vague point in his future. But not today.
Chapter Eight
Abi hadn’t seen much of Edward. If she thought about it for too long, she would think his behaviour a little strange. After that first evening when they’d had dinner in the pub, he’d been a bit distant. Not that she expected them to behave like roommates. That was the last thing she wanted, but she’d kind of thought he might be a little more chatty. No, that was the wrong word. She had a feeling that Edward was simply not the chatty type. But she’d imagined them running into each other more, swapping funny stories about their new experiences living there together, discussing their plans for the future, discovering a little more about each other perhaps.
It was as Abi was taking a bag of recycling outside that she saw Edward on the other side of the hall talking to one of the builders. He caught her eye and she waved at him and, for a moment, she thought he was going to come over to say hello, but he didn’t. She sighed and returned to her apartment.
Abi got on with making her corner of Winfield truly her own. It was such a delight to have doors on the ground floor that she could fling open into the garden, and a garden she could really move about in – a luxury she hadn’t been afforded in London.
As her half of Winfield included most of the walled garden, she’d decided that she should try and tackle that as soon as she could. After all, she wanted to get planting and enjoy it over the summer months and already had a tray of sunflower seeds germinating on one of her windowsills. Luckily for her, as she was talking to one of the builders, he mentioned that his son had a gardening business and that he could ask him to make a start as soon as possible. The man in question had just had one of his jobs cancelled so the digger moved in the very next day, turning over the rough ground, pulling out clumps of the unholy trinity of brambles, nettles and thistles. It was a job that would have taken her weeks if she’d been foolish enough to attempt it on her own with a fork and a pair of secateurs, but it was all done in a matter of hours, and what a difference it made. As she paced out the space after the digger had left, she realised how very big the garden was. A part of her couldn’t help feeling a little daunted by the prospect, but a larger part of her was delighted by the challenge and couldn’t wait to start making plans.
Abi had designed all sorts of things in her time from tablecloths and bed linen, to shop windows and floors, but she’d never designed a garden before. How hard could it be, she wondered? Perhaps it would be like one of her tea towel designs only with slightly more flowers – and flowers that would depend on her for life. It was a big responsibility.
The thing that was most important would be to enjoy the process. This garden, this special place, was not to be a place of stress. Abi wasn’t going to let it make demands on her that would make her feel unhappy. After all, wasn’t a garden meant to be a place to unwind and forget about life’s troubles? That’s what this place symbolised to her – it was an escape, a place to breathe and dream and create. She could feel its power even now as she walked around it and she quickly learned that one of the loveliest things to do was to walk to the far end of the walled garden and then look back at the hall. It was a secluded spot and provided a gorgeous view of her half of the property and she knew what she had to do. She would have a bench here – a wonderfully comfortable bench in the sort of wood that always felt warm and reassuring. It would be a place she could come to with her morning cup of tea. A bench not only for comfort but for inspiration. It was such an exciting thought.
It was as she reached the far end of the garden that she saw Edward at one of the windows in his wing. She waved up to him, beckoning him to come downstairs so she could tell him of her plans for the garden. For what was a garden if not to share?
A couple of minutes later, they met at the front of the house.
‘I know you can see some of my garden from your part of the house, but come and see the rest,’ she said excitedly. He followed her through the gate that led into the walled garden.
‘Oh,’ he said.
Abi smiled at his reaction, seeing the look of surprise on his face.
‘You’ve been busy.’
‘Well, I got a man in with a digger,’ she admitted.
‘But you’re going to be busy filling it, aren’t you?’
‘I was just thinking about all that when I saw you. I’ve never had such a big garden. To tell you the truth, it’s a little daunting.’ She paused, looking at the great space before her again. ‘But exhilarating too!’ she added. ‘Have you time for a quick cuppa? I could tell you my plans for it.’
His face seemed to cloud over. ‘I should be getting back,’ he said. ‘Things to do.’ He turned away.
She nodded, wanting to ask him exactly what it was he had to do, but she resisted. She could see that he didn’t want to talk and she tried not to take it personally.
‘Actually,’ he said, turning back towards her once they both reached the gate, ‘there was something I meant to show you.’
‘Oh?’
‘If you have a moment,’ he said.
I have nothing but moments, Abi thought to herself, but she didn’t say anything as she followed Edward into the house and up the stairs.
They entered one of the rooms on the left which overlooked the downs. It was a beautiful room, or rather it would be one day. It had two large sash windows, and the high ceilings which every room of the house boasted. But it was the ceiling that was the problem.
‘This is the last hole,’ Edward said, glancing upwards. ‘The others have all been repaired now, but I thought you might like to see it. See what we’ve been up to on this side of the property.’
‘All that lovely ornate cornice has been ruined,’ Abi said, peering up into the void.
‘And you can see the steel girders and timbers that were installed in the sixties. I’m told that was in a desperate effort to stop the effects of the dry rot.’
‘Oh, Edward. I had no idea it was so bad up here.’
‘Now you see why I had to sell half of the place. Not that I’m regretting that decision,’ he added hastily. ‘It’s good to have someone else on board with a big place like this.’
‘I feel guilty coming in towards the end of all the really hard work.’
‘Don’t be. I was the one who took all of this on.’
‘You’ll let me know if you need any help, won’t you?’ she told him.
He looked surprised. ‘But you have helped.’
‘Yes, but in addition to that.’
He shook his head. ‘You’ve done your bit buying into this place. I didn’t mean to insinuate anything showing you this. I just thought you’d be interested to see a bit of this old place’s history.’
‘Oh, I am.’
‘I’ve never owned an old place before. Always had modern. So this is all – well – a bit of a surprise to me.’ He gestured for them to leave and it was as they were walking out of the room that she saw something in the corner.
‘What’s this?’ she asked, walking towards it.
‘Some of the old wallpaper we had to take down.’
Abi took it out of the cardboard box where it had been dumped with all manner of other bits and pieces. It was dusty, but she could still see the beauty of it even though it was ripped and frayed around the edges and creased down the middle.
‘It’s lovely,’ she said.
‘Is it?’ Edward asked.
‘Look!’ Abi said, shocked that he couldn’t see its innate beauty. The delicate lemon yellow rose pattern intertwined with pale green vines.
‘I suppose it is, but it was in the way. It had to go.’
‘Can I have it?’
He frowned, obviously wondering why on earth she’d want a dusty bit of ripped paper that had seen better days fifty years ago.
‘If you want it.’
‘I do.’
‘What will you do with it?’
She shrugged, her head cocked to one side as she examined the pattern again. ‘I’m not sure yet, but it’s too lovely to throw out and it’s a little bit of this place’s history, isn’t it?’
‘I hadn’t thought of it like that.’
She picked up a few torn pieces of the paper to take with her.
‘Come outside with me,’ she asked him again as they reached the stairs. ‘I know you’re busy, but I’d love to tell you my plans.’
He hesitated, his hand patting his pocket as though there was something in there that meant he couldn’t possibly spend any more time with her on frivolous things.
‘Okay,’ he said at last.
‘It won’t take long,’ she reassured him. ‘We’ll go through my place then I can drop the wallpaper off.’
Abi led the way, noticing that Edward stopped for a moment before entering her apartment, a look of vague surprise in his eyes as he took it all in.
‘Okay?’ she asked, casting a look around her, trying to see what it was that had caught his attention.
‘You’ve got a lot of… stuff,’ he said.
Abi glanced at the living room walls which were now home to two very large white-painted Welsh dressers, each crammed full of crockery. And that was just the beginning of her collection although she didn’t tell him that now.
‘Come on through,’ she said instead, placing the wallpaper carefully on a coffee table and opening the French doors into the garden. The sun was full upon it at that moment and Abi released a long sigh of contentment as they both stepped outside.
‘Isn’t it wonderful?’ she said.
‘It’s a big space,’ he replied, ‘and I’m kind of glad it’s your responsibility if you don’t mind me saying.’
‘I don’t mind at all.’
‘How are you going to fill it all?’
‘With plants. All kinds of plants. Trees, shrubs, flowers, fruit and vegetables. I’m going to have a fruit cage and raised beds and I’ll get the old Victorian greenhouse repaired. And flowers – there are going to be all kinds of flowers. Roses, jasmine, honeysuckle, sweet Williams – anything that smells wonderful. And sunflowers. Lots of sunflowers!’
‘Ah, that’s right – sunflowers are your thing, aren’t they?’
She smiled. They were having a conversation just like she’d imagined they would do.
They walked further into the garden, the sun warm on their backs.
‘I’ve got somebody coming in to fix the lean-to greenhouse, put in some nice brick paths and build some raised beds. I wish I was handier with construction, but it would take me forever to make a start on any of those things, and I’m desperate to get the planting underway.’
They crossed the bare earth, walking to the point where they could see Edward’s half of the house.
‘You don’t mind being overlooked here?’ he asked, gazing up at the windows.
‘Gracious, no!’ Abi cried. ‘There’s plenty of privacy at the other end of the garden. Besides, I like looking at the whole length of the house from this point.’
‘It’s a fine view,’ Edward said, and they both took in the splendid architecture with the fine sash windows winking in the sunshine. ‘But I’ll kind of miss the thistles,’ he added, looking back at the garden. ‘The finches favoured them over the winter.’
Abi felt herself drain of all colour. What had she done? Had she just gone and bulldozed something precious?
‘I’m joking!’ Edward added quickly, obviously seeing her discomfort. ‘Well, half joking.’
‘But I’ll be planting plenty of flowers and they love sunflower seeds, don’t they? I’ll make sure they’ll have lots to eat.’ She saw that he was smiling.
‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have worried you like that,’ he said as they started walking back.
‘The last thing I want to do is to chase the wildlife away, but I couldn’t start to make a garden until those thistles were gone. It’s a bit like that room you’re working on. I guess you have to do a bit of damage in order to repair something.’
‘That’s a very nice way of putting it,’ he told her and she felt relief flooding through her as they entered her apartment once again. And, just like when he’d entered before, Edward’s eyes took in the huge dresser filled with crockery. ‘I’ve never seen anything like this before. My family never had pieces out on display.’
‘I always think it’s a shame to hide beautiful things away in cupboards where they can’t breathe or be admired,’ she confessed. ‘I like to see the things I own and each one of them is chosen carefully and deliberately so that they’re not only functional but lovely to look at too.’
‘“Have nothing in your house that you do not know to be useful…”’
‘“Or believe to be beauti
ful”,’ Abi finished for him when he hesitated.
‘That’s right!’ He grinned. ‘You believe that, don’t you?’
‘It’s a rule I live by. William Morris is a bit of a hero of mine.’
He took a step towards the dresser.
‘You can pick things up,’ she told him. ‘Nothing’s too precious that it can’t be handled.’
But he didn’t pick anything up. Instead, she watched as his eyes moved methodically from the top shelf to the bottom and from left to right, taking in each individual piece and each pattern.
‘I’m afraid there are a few chipped and cracked pieces now, but I can’t bear to part with anything once they come into my home. They kind of feel like family. Is that silly of me?’
‘No, I don’t think so. A touch whimsical perhaps.’
‘Yes. And it’s a family I keep adding to. I can’t stop, you see. I collect things wherever I go. For years now. Or ever since I started earning my own money. I would go into charity shops but, instead of buying something useful that I could wear, I’d buy something in a size that didn’t fit me. A child’s dress, perhaps, or a man’s shirt because I liked the fabric and needed to have it. Inspiration comes from all sorts of places and, although I didn’t really know what to do with them or how I could use them, I could see that they were beautiful and that they would somehow work their way into something.’
‘Do you still do that?’
‘What?’
‘Buy things you can’t wear because you like the pattern?’
‘Oh, yes, all the time,’ Abi confessed with a laugh. ‘I have bin bags full of things I’ll never wear, but which I’ll occasionally dive into. It’s rather magical to pull something out you’ve forgotten you own and to see its colours and patterns as if for the first time. Something happens in my brain. Perhaps it’s my synapses snapping away, but it’s a lovely feeling of excitement.’
The House in the Clouds Page 9