Abi was still in that wonderful fallow stage where she was only half thinking about how she was going to make her way in the world in the future. She was lucky that her business had provided her with a sizeable nest egg and she could afford to take time off. A lot of time if she needed. But nest eggs didn’t last forever, she was aware of that and she couldn’t help wondering if this endless sketching of her new environment would lead to anything particular.
Popping her pencil end in her mouth – a terrible habit she’d had since childhood and one which her Aunt Claire had abhorred – Abi tried to banish her worries about the future because something would come up. It usually did. She just had to trust the passage of time and her instinct because that had worked pretty well for her in the past.
In the meantime, she had the Sussex countryside at her feet and she would walk just a few more miles of it before returning home.
It was as Abi was coming over the ridge of the hill and caught sight of Winfield Hall in the distance a couple of hours later that she realised, once again, how lucky she was to have made a home here. But it wasn’t until she was descending the hill that she saw a car in the driveway that she didn’t recognise. Perhaps it was a surveyor or someone restoring the hall. So many people came and went, she lost track. But it soon became apparent that the stranger wasn’t anything to do with the building work.
It was a tall man in a white T-shirt and dark jeans which looked far too hot to wear in the summer, and he was walking out from the walled garden. Her walled garden. Abi felt herself stiffen.
‘Can I help you?’ she called over to him, wondering what he wanted and how long it would take for the police to get here if he meant no good.
He strode towards her across the driveway, shielding his eyes against the sun. ‘Is Edward here?’ he asked.
Abi wasn’t sure whether to answer him or not. After all, she didn’t know this man.
‘I notice his car isn’t here,’ he continued and then he smiled and his eyes crinkled in a way that reminded Abi of a small boy and something in her softened at his sweet demeanour which was very silly of her really, she berated. Any psychopath knew how to smile in a way to charm.
‘He’s probably in London,’ Abi told him.
‘Oh.’ The man looked a little crestfallen by this news. ‘I was hoping to apologise. For last night. I – erm – might have made a bit of noise. Sort of in the middle of the night actually.’
‘That was you?’
‘Yup! Did I disturb you?’
‘Well, I did wonder what was going on,’ Abi admitted.
‘I was a bit worse for wear, I’m afraid.’
‘You’d been drinking and driving?’ Abi asked, unable to hide her disapproval.
‘Not really, no,’ he said, giving a little smile. ‘Well, a bit. But not a lot! Really, I would never put anyone else at risk. I’m one of the best drivers around.’
‘And who did you say you were again?’
‘Oscar. Oscar Townsend. I’m Ed’s brother.’
Abi’s mouth dropped open.
‘He hasn’t told you about me, has he?’ Oscar laughed. ‘Typical. For some reason, he prefers to have nothing to do with his family.’
‘Oh, dear,’ Abi said, looking more closely at Oscar and noticing that he had the same dark sandy hair and hazel eyes as Edward although his features were slimmer and sharper.
Oscar reached into his pocket for his phone and frowned. ‘No signal here?’
‘It’s a little temperamental.’
He shook his head. ‘What on earth is Ed doing living in a heap in the middle of nowhere?’
Abi frowned. ‘But he said he grew up in the next village.’
‘Yeah, and I thought he couldn’t wait to get away from it. He moved to London as soon as he could.’
But wasn’t it telling that he’d moved back, Abi thought, but she didn’t say anything.
‘Will you tell him I called? I mean, I could hang around for a bit…’ Oscar said, a little boy lost look on his face now. Abi wondered if he was fishing for an invitation inside.
‘I’ll tell him you called,’ she said.
He nodded. ‘Sure.
Well, it was very nice to meet you, erm?’ he paused, eyebrows raised enquiringly.
‘Abigail,’ she said, thinking no harm could come of her revealing her name to Edward’s brother surely.
He took a step closer and reached out to take her hand in his.
‘Pleased to meet you, Abigail,’ he said, a twinkle in his hazel eyes that made Abi smile despite herself, and she watched as he walked towards his car, got in and then tooted the horn as he drove away – an act that seemed about as far removed from his brother Edward as she could imagine.
That evening, as Abi was admiring the pinks, purples and blues of the cornflowers she’d planted in one of the raised beds, vowing to paint them as soon as possible, she heard a car pulling up in the driveway. She made her way to the gate and saw that it was Edward arriving home. He was wearing a dark suit, but was carrying the jacket over his shoulder, his briefcase in his other hand. He looked tired after his day in London. Abi didn’t envy him that. The journey alone in the summer heat would take it out of her these days, she thought.
She pottered around the garden for a little while longer, admiring how quickly things were growing after the rain the week before which had had the good grace to fall during the night. She marvelled at her sunflowers, glorying in the vibrant yellow petals and the thick stems. Had they really only been seeds just a few months ago? And she looked lovingly at the rows of lettuce and chard she’d planted in another of the raised beds, delighted that she’d done something as simple as growing her own food. It really did give her enormous pleasure.
Finally, she went back indoors, washing the salad leaves she’d picked for a light supper and then brushing her hair quickly before making her way across the hall towards Edward’s apartment. It was still an odd feeling to share this large space with a relative stranger – to live so closely and yet so very separately. And she felt a little awkward calling on him like this. It felt like a kind of intrusion. But, then again, she had been asked to pass a message on and so she knocked on his door.
‘Abigail?’ he said a moment later as he answered. ‘Everything okay?’ He looked behind and around her as if it might not be. As if, perhaps, something was amiss with Winfield because why else would she be disturbing him?
‘Hi Edward. I have a message for you.’
‘Oh?’
‘Yes. Your brother called by earlier today.’
He frowned. ‘My brother?’
‘Yes. Oscar,’ Abi said as if Edward might need reminding.
‘I see.’
‘He didn’t leave a message, but wanted you to know he called by.’
‘Right.’ Edward stood awkwardly at his door and Abi stood awkwardly in front of him.
‘You told me you didn’t have any family,’ she dared to say after a moment.
Edward glanced at her, not looking happy that she’d remembered such a detail.
‘I know.’
‘So you lied to me.’
She saw him swallow hard and then he sighed.
‘I did and I’m sorry. It just seemed easier at the time.’
‘But why?’
He glanced down at his shoes and Abi wondered what he was thinking. ‘Things are… complicated with my family.’
‘Aren’t they with everyone’s?’ Abi pointed out.
‘I shouldn’t have thought so.’
Abi placed her hands on her hips. ‘Edward, I hate to break it to you, but you aren’t the only person on the planet with a complicated family.’
He grimaced. ‘It kind of goes beyond complicated, I’m afraid.’
Abi frowned. ‘Like how?’ she asked, and that’s when she saw him almost physically withdraw from her.
‘It’s not something I want to talk about, okay?’
‘Okay,’ Abi said. ‘Listen – the light in the garden’s
wonderful right now. How about joining me. I can make us some tea. I’ve just picked some salad.’
He shook his head. ‘I’ve had a busy day. I’m just going to crash.’
‘You could crash in the garden with me?’
He gave a tiny smile. ‘Another time. Maybe.’
It was the word maybe that signalled to Abi that she really shouldn’t push him. He didn’t want to be sociable. Not today and maybe not ever.
Edward was just about to close his door on her when she spoke again.
‘He seems nice.’
‘Who?’ Edward said.
‘Your brother!’ She laughed, but Edward’s expression told her that he was not in a laughing mood.
Chapter Eleven
The next day, Abi was still smarting from Edward’s behaviour. The more she thought about it – and she really had tried hard not to think about it – she believed that he’d behaved unreasonably. She’d had a message to relay to him and he’d been most unwelcoming when he’d opened the door and then been rudely evasive when she’d pointed out the fact that he’d lied to her that evening in the pub.
Then she’d felt bad because it seemed obvious that Edward was hiding something and perhaps that something was painful and it was wrong of her to push for details. She mustn’t forget that they were only sharing a living space. That didn’t mean they automatically became best friends and confidantes.
She smiled as she tried to imagine that. Edward as a confidante. The idea was outrageous. And yet, there was something deeply appealing about his reticence. It was unusual and dignified. Perhaps she’d been too harsh on him, thinking him rude. Perhaps he was just a very private man and she should do her best to leave him alone.
* * *
In the apartment across the hall from Abi’s, Edward was pacing. He regretted speaking like that to Abi, but he really hadn’t been in a chatty mood. Not that he ever was, but perhaps he’d been even less chatty than normal when she’d called round with the news that his brother had called at Winfield.
Oscar. Just the name sent Edward into a tailspin. He hadn’t yet got over his brother’s visit in the middle of the night and was angry that it had disturbed Abi. But the fact that Oscar had visited again and had introduced himself to Abi was really maddening. He’d had no business to do that. Indeed, Edward had contemplated not telling Oscar about his purchase of Winfield Hall. He’d seriously thought about just disappearing, only Winfield was such a small community and it wouldn’t take Oscar long to track him down to the very village they’d grown up next to. After all, Oscar did still live in the neighbourhood.
Maybe he’d made a mistake in coming back to Sussex. Maybe he should have upped and moved somewhere where nobody would be able to trace him. A village in the foothills of the Himalayas, or a hut on the beach of some remote Greek island. The idea did appeal to him, but he knew he didn’t really have the courage to follow through. He was far too in love with the English landscape to ever think of giving it up. Glancing out of the windows now at the great gold-green flank of the down, he knew he could never leave England. But he was going to have to leave Winfield again today, he thought, and journey back into London. Maybe that was another reason he’d been short with Abigail the night before too. He’d been anxious about what was coming his way. An interview for a job.
Edward hadn’t had a job interview for years. He’d been in his old position for so long that he’d forgotten what it was like to subject oneself to the rigours of an interview by a panel of total strangers. He’d happily forgotten the stresses of presenting a professional face to a team of people who might already have given the job to somebody within the company and were just going through the routine of interviewing others so they could tick a box. And he’d also forgotten how very nerve-wracking these things could be, forcing memories of every failure you’d ever had back into the forefront of your mind.
Why was it that one carried one’s insecurities for years? Was there a physical place in the body where they were stored? Could you ever be free of them? Could you learn to purge yourself of them? Well, Edward had never managed it. He still remembered every single interview he’d messed up, every job he hadn’t got and every test he hadn’t passed. Those things were locked away inside him forever, he believed. Only he mustn’t focus on them today – not if he wanted to project confidence and ability. It was a good job. He’d known the company for a number of years and they had a good reputation. The salary was good and the office was a short walk from a tube station.
But it wasn’t his old job.
That’s what a little voice inside his head kept saying. It wasn’t his old job and his life would never be the same again. That old comfortable role he’d had with colleagues he’d trusted and worked with well. This new company, although he’d heard nothing but good things about it, wasn’t the company he’d worked with for years. Mind you, he thought, that company had let him go, so why was he feeling so nostalgic about it? It was time to move on. The only thing that was certain in life was change – wasn’t that what they said? Nothing stayed the same for long and, if you didn’t adapt, you’d be left behind.
So, after making the journey into town and arriving in good time at the office, Edward took a deep breath before entering through the large glass doors, walking across a lobby filled with people he didn’t know. He signed in and resigned himself to his fate.
* * *
It was an hour later when Edward came out of the office building and was hit by a wall of heat. There was a park nearby and he walked towards it, taking his jacket off and unbuttoning his shirt sleeves, rolling them up a moment later. It had been a ridiculous interview performed by three people who didn’t have one smile between them. He’d been put through a series of silly questions to which the answers were clearly on his application form. He’d been relieved when the director had stood up to shake his hand, giving him the sort of look that promised nothing but a rejection in the coming week.
At least one thing had been gained by the whole sorry experience, Edward knew that he didn’t want to work for anybody ever again. He couldn’t put himself through the trauma of it all. He’d much rather focus on making his own way and building something that was his and he knew he could make things work even if money was tight for a while.
He’d still have to come into town every so often to meet with his London-based clients, but that was fine. He didn’t mind that so much knowing that it would be on his terms and only for a few hours with the promised escape back to Winfield at the end of the working day.
Finding a bench under the shade of a large plane tree, Edward took a sip of water from his flask and ate a limp sandwich he’d bought from a shop outside the tube, wishing he was eating it on top of the downs with the summer breeze coming inland from the sea. There wasn’t much air in the city and the shade from the tree above him was welcome but fleeting as the sun moved round so he got up to go. It was time anyway.
As if his job interview in a hot capital city wasn’t enough to contend with, he had a doctor’s appointment in an hour’s time, but he was kind of regretting the second appointment now, wishing he could jump onto the train and get back to Winfield as soon as possible.
Edward had been seeing this doctor on and off for three years now and trusted him, so was hopeful he’d be able to help with the recent increase in pain he’d been experiencing. The clinic was just a short walk from Bedford Square and, mercifully, Edward didn’t have to hang around in the hot waiting room for too long. He then had a series of tests and X-rays and was shown into a room and given a glass of iced water while he waited.
When the doctor came back with the results and started telling Edward something technical about what was going on inside his leg and hip, he did his best to understand.
‘What does that mean in practical terms?’ Edward asked.
‘You don’t need to make any drastic changes to your life. I’d still like you to maintain your current level of fitness.’
‘And I can still
swim?’
‘Oh, yes. Swimming’s good.’
‘And the recent pain? What can I do for that?’
‘We’ll try these new painkillers. They’re a little stronger than the last ones,’ the doctor warned. ‘Take them with food, and stop if you start hallucinating.’
Edward stared at him, half expecting him to laugh, but he didn’t.
Great, Edward thought. Just what he needed in his life: another complication.
* * *
Life was also about to get complicated for Abi that day. She’d just set out several sheets of paper on her table and was about to embark on some preliminary sketches for a new pattern inspired by the photos she’d taken of the wildflowers on her recent walk, when her phone rang.
‘Oh, god, Abi!’ the voice cried.
‘Ellen – are you okay?’
‘No, I’m not! You’re never going to believe what’s happened! Can you come? Can you come right away?’
‘Yes, of course I can,’ Abi said, looking forlornly at the project she’d been so excited to dive into. But family came first, she told herself as she hung up the phone, wondering what on earth was happening with her sister. Ellen was one of those people who seemed to lurch from crisis to crisis, her life one big drama, and she’d had to manage without her little sister on her doorstep up until now. How had she coped? Was Abi being taken advantage of? She couldn’t help thinking such thoughts and then feeling guilty for having them.
She left Winfield Hall in record time, driving towards Brighton, tapping her fingers nervously on her steering wheel and wondering what scene of devastation she would find once she got there. It was gone four in the afternoon so the girls would be home from school. Was it something to do with them, she wondered? A medical emergency or had something happened between Ellen and Douglas?
Finding a parking space outside her sister’s house, Abi jumped out of the car and rang the bell.
The House in the Clouds Page 13