‘Do excuse me,’ I muttered to no one in particular, and went out through the patio doors just as Roxy appeared and pointed out things on the trestle table she wanted filming to the cameraman. Edward left by the other entrance and muttered something about going to the library for a moment.
Phew. Fresh air. There was nothing like it for clearing the head – well, apart from a Coke and Alka Seltzer.
I gazed around. This was the first mega overcast morning in ages, yet the estate still looked wicked. Not like where I’d grown up, which looked down and out, even on a blistering August day. I walked over to Nick, who was leaning on his hoe.
‘Have you heard about the competition on Facebook, Miss Croxley?’ he said, a twinkle in his eye.
‘Yes. If that doesn’t keep the viewers hooked, nothing will,’ I said.
‘You sound as if you planned it yourself.’
I smiled. ‘Um, I wish—it’s a really good idea. What’s the final result? I’ve been off-colour and haven’t looked. Somehow we have to re-enact the chosen movie scene this afternoon.’
‘Ghost won, by a long stretch.’
I looked at my watch and then pictured that movie scene in my head. Urgh. I kind of wished now that I’d chosen more conservative film scenes. What a good thing I’d played down the sex-up plan with Lady C – she’d have done everything possible to talk me out of this latest re-enactment. Plus I’d done her a favour; now she was closer to the Earl, it was one less thing for innocent her to lie about. Along with everyone else, she could speculate about who was the Demi Moore to Nick’s Patrick Swayze.
My heart fluttered and an adrenaline rush surged through me as a plan popped into my head – wacky as it was – how Nick and I could re-enact that pottery scene right now and get it over with.
‘Could you fetch some overalls and a bucket of water and meet me out the front, by the fountain, in five minutes? Cameras are out there as well today, to catch the guests as they arrive. I’ve got an idea.’ The part of me that still recalled Lady C’s lessons about modesty just wanted to get this over with now.
He grinned. ‘Certainly, Miss.’
I went back inside, past Edward, who looked as if he was only half-listening to Roxy. Chest thumping, I walked to the front of the house. Sure enough, another cameraman was there, taking shots of the drive, waiting for the ex-evacuees to turn up. Charlie and Gaynor smoked outside as she gave the presenter some last-minute instructions. They’d headed back inside by the time I stopped by the fountain and turned around to see where Nick was. I gazed back at the water feature, eyes focusing for a second on the chunk missing, due to gun-slinger Mr Thompson. The whole ornament was filthy with mud and green algae.
‘This needs a jolly good clean, don’t you think?’ I said to Nick as he appeared by my side. ‘Thanks for the overalls,’ I said and quickly slipped into them.
‘Nick… Just set the bucket down there,’ I said and pointed towards the fountain’s base. ‘Right… Think of that scene from Ghost,’ I whispered.
‘Sure,’ muttered Nick. ‘Who could forget Patrick Swayze, crouching behind Demi Moore whilst she runs her hands up and down that wet, vase-like shaped clay that’s spinning around. He puts his hands on hers and…’
‘Exactly,’ I whispered and jerked my head towards the base of the fountain. ‘Don’t you think that looks like a vase?’
‘You don’t mean…?’
‘It does need a jolly good clean. First impressions are important and there are, um, a lot of people visiting Applebridge Hall today.’
He gazed at me, mouth open.
‘Now or never, Nick,’ I said. ‘Hopefully, the cameraman will catch a few seconds of footage.’ I knelt down on the ground at the bottom of the fountain. Nick brought over the bucket and sat right behind me. He passed me the cloth. I dunked it in the water and started to scrub the column, up and down. My other hand moved at the same time, around the other side of the vase-shaped stonework. Nick moved closer behind me and placed his big fingers on top of mine. They felt surprisingly smooth for a gardener. Subtly, I glanced up. Sure enough, the camera was focused on us.
‘Lean in closer,’ I whispered. ‘Make it look as if you are kissing my neck – hopefully, that will hide my face.’
I dunked the cloth in the bucket again. Torrents of water dripped down the base. Now our arms swapped positions and my hands lay on top of his. Up and down, up and down… Demi Moore eat your heart out…
Except this wasn’t as much fun as I’d expected. Damn me getting used to being a Lady. All I could think of was how the Croxleys might react if they saw this. Luckily, our cue to stop quickly came: the sound of a car on the drive.
I glanced at the camera – thank God it now focused on the vehicle. Gaynor would have fired the cameraman if he’d missed the shot of the first evacuee arriving. Nick and I stood up and, heads down, we hurried across to the pond. I crouched behind some bushes and slipped out of the overalls. Well, almost. One foot got stuck and aargghh! No! I fell sideways towards the pond.
LORD EDWARD’S E-DIARY
Saturday 8th September
11.45a.m. Before logging on here, I still wasn’t sure whether to carry on with this blog. If I did, this morning’s contribution was to be brief and dedicated to last-minute preparations for the imminent lunch. So, I’ve bobbed into the library, with only minutes to spare until the guests arrive – it has been awfully busy and this is the first moment I’ve had to myself.
All I can say is…dear blog-readers, instead, I shall dedicate this post to you. Thank you. I am…overwhelmed…Clearly, you sensed that, at the moment, all is not well in my world. Yet there are no prying questions, no sarcastic comments, simply support – (apart from the rather unpleasant contribution from Internetking. Thank you for the advice, all – I shall simply remove his comments if he returns in future).
I think what touches me most is that you don’t see me as an aristocrat. It doesn’t matter whether I’m in line to inherit an estate or who my family is or what I sound like… It’s as if the online world has removed all barriers and my loyal blog followers just see me as me – you’ll never know just how much that means.
Drunkwriter, you wonder if it is due to a woman. I am sorry your current, frequent inebriation follows a brutal break-up. Cupcakesrock is right—perhaps you are better off parted from someone who laughed at your poetry. Maybe you could meet like-minded people at a local writers’ club?
Knityourownmansion, so you understand feeling low and downhearted? I’m sure that, like you, many people, post-retirement, feel they have lost their sense of worth. Clearly, knitting has filled a hole in your life. Have you ever considered setting yourself up online and selling your own handcrafted goods?
BusyfanDownton, nice to see you back here (and no, I won’t tell Baron Marwick that you’ve visited my blog). I’m sorry to hear that you are on medication for low self-esteem. Just by supporting me, whilst still wishing the Baron to win, shows what a charitable, kind-hearted person you are.
And Lovehotnoble, that’s an exceedingly generous offer, but I must decline. Apart from anything else, Mr Thompson could be tempted to shoot if he saw you creeping into my bedroom with sadistic equipment – I don’t think he’s read Fifty Shades of Grey.
Chapter 23
Phew. That was close. Nick caught me just in time. My clothes were still as dry as the infamous pork and apple stew I made. A bald man with a wrinkled face and cheeky smile stared right at me as I headed towards the car. I smoothed down my trouser suit and hoped my mascara hadn’t run, due to splashes of fountain water. Quickly, I shook hands with the first guest and then dashed in as he stayed to chat with the driver. I flashed an innocent smile at the cameraman as I walked by. It was just before midday when I hurtled into the Drake Diner. The Earl and Lady C were chatting to Edward who, for some reason, looked a little brighter than before. Extra cameramen and boom operators had been brought in for the reunion. Gaynor strode in.
‘The first car has just arrived!’
she said, while Roxy came over and offered me a mint.
As slow footsteps approached, we all glanced towards the door. The bald man came in. He wore a smart grey suit and held a walking stick.
‘Jonny? Jonny Jackson?’ said the Earl. ‘I’d recognize that mischievous smile anywhere!’
‘James…Jimbo!’
The two men shook hands as if they were never going to let go. In fact… Blimey! The Earl actually leant forward and gave him a hug. My eyes tingled. Even Lady C couldn’t disapprove of that uncharacteristic show of emotion.
‘How are you doing, lad?’ said Jonny as they finally drew apart. ‘It’s great to be back at Applebridge Hall. I can’t believe it’s been over seventy years since I was last here.’
At that moment another more familiar guest walked in.
‘Bill!’ said the Earl. ‘Here’s Jonny!’
‘You old rascal!’ Bill clapped the guest on the back. ‘Good Lord. This is a rum deal – us in this room again, as old codgers! Remember that time we got lost in the maze? Matron blew a gasket when we returned, covered in blood and scratches, having forced ourselves through the hedges.’
‘Always leading me astray, you two were,’ said Jonny and gave me a wink. He gazed around the dining room. ‘I’ve watched the show. It’s been nice to see the old familiar rooms and gardens – reminded me of days spent running through that forest. Do you two remember us stealing ladybirds from the girls and threatening to drown them in the pond?’
The Earl gave a hearty laugh. ‘Weren’t we horrors?’
Bill chuckled. ‘No—soft as putty, more like. We used to secretly release them onto lily pads so that they were all right.’
Light footsteps approached and a sprightly man with dyed brown hair combed over to the side came in. He wore a sharp slate suit and flash stripy tie.
‘Well, I never,’ muttered the Earl.
‘Gerry Green,’ said Bill.
‘Congratulations, old boy,’ said Jonny. ‘I’ve followed your comedy career over the years. You’ve done all right.’
Gerry shook hands with them all. ‘Sod, this, maties,’ he said with a guffaw and pulled them all close for a hug.
‘Lovely to meet you, Gerry,’ I said. ‘I’m Abbey, the Earl’s niece – we spoke on the telephone.’
‘But where are my manners?’ said the Earl, eyes sparkling, as he proceeded to introduce everyone. Then the next hour until lunch was served passed in a bit of a blur. Linda Sloggit turned up from Manchester. Everyone chatted and laughed as if the world might end tomorrow. Eventually Charlie Chingo strolled in and worked the room as the rest of the ex-evacuees turned up. Lady C and I cringed at his gruesome questions:
‘You must have missed your parents?’
‘Any members of your family killed by bombs?’
‘No doubt some of your childhood friends weren’t so lucky as you, and ended up with abusive families…Could you tell us their tragic story…?’
‘Linda? Is that you?’ stuttered a short woman with Arctic-white hair and lips surrounded by smoker’s wrinkles. ‘It’s Irene. Irene Cooper.’
Linda held out her arms and, like a little girl, Irene ran towards them. The whole room went quiet for a moment. Even Charlie shut up. After several minutes, the two women stood back from one another.
‘You were like the big sister I never had,’ said Irene, voice trembling. ‘I was only four when I came here and would never have got through it without you. How did we lose touch?’
Linda’s eyes glistened. ‘We shouldn’t have. Looking after others, though… It helped me cope.’
‘Remember that knitted elephant?’ said Irene. ‘You always used to make sure I had it in bed with me at night.’
I fetched it from the trestle table. Irene took the toy from me as if it were the crown jewels.
‘Cuddly toys were for wimps,’ said Jonny with a wink at Linda. ‘So us lads used to say.’
‘And marbles were for stinky so-and-sos whose brains could only cope with rolling balls,’ retorted Irene and stuck out her tongue.
Chuckles echoed around the room.
‘Feels like I’m back in nineteen-forty,’ said Gerry. ‘Anyone remember the worm in Matron’s bed?’
‘Yes!’ chorused Linda’s friends, Cynthia and Bertie Williams.
‘She made you clean the patio with a toothbrush,’ said Cynthia, a striking woman wearing dangly gold earrings.
‘Good, Lord, I’d forgotten that,’ muttered Gerry. ‘Good times, though, heh? All things considered?’
Grunts of agreement echoed around the room.
‘Your mother was an angel, James,’ said Bertie. ‘Always knew how to cheer me up. She said that Mum would want me and Cynthia to enjoy ourselves—that it didn’t mean we had forgotten her.’
Silence filled the room again. Bespectacled eyes stared vacantly for a moment, into the past. I sniffed and Lady C passed me a tissue. Thank God I wasn’t wearing my false eyelashes; tears would have unstuck them by now. It was as if the last half a century or so hadn’t happened. These old fogies still had such a strong bond. All our hard work, it had paid off – even if this reunion didn’t win us the show, it was worth it.
Several of the guests stood at the trestle table, handling the toys as if they were made of the finest porcelain. The hush had the strangest effect on Chingo, who found his voice again, only to ask more respectful questions, like: ‘Tell us what positive effect staying at Applebridge Hall had on your life.’
‘Gave me aspirations,’ said Jonny. ‘I saw this place and wanted a bit of the high life. Got into banking, I did, and own a nice little holiday villa in Spain now, as well as our four-bed detached.’
‘Made me realize how much I cared for people,’ said Linda, ‘especially children. Without the evacuation, I doubt I’d have become a midwife.’
‘Taught me laughter really is the strongest medicine,’ said Gerry.
‘Made us realize how important family is,’ said Cynthia and smiled at her brother, Bertie.
‘And, erm, what did it teach you, Lord Croxley?’ said Charlie.
‘This is fab stuff,’ Roxy whispered in my ear, having moved right behind me.
The Earl slipped an arm around Bill’s shoulder. He thought for a moment. ‘I’m the first to admit that this show, Million Dollar Mansion, has been nothing but a damn inconvenience.’
Everyone chuckled.
‘My…my son, Edward, has carried a lot of the responsibility for trying to make it a success.’ The Earl and Edward exchanged looks. ‘He’s come up with the ideas. He’s liaised with the producers. But lately, since my niece Abigail proposed this reunion…’Blimey! The Earl’s eyes shone watery bright. A lump came to my throat. ‘It’s made me think about the past,’ he continued. ‘Made me realize, more than ever, that Applebridge Hall is not just mortar and stones.’
Lady C squeezed his arm.
‘Damn important memories have been made here,’ the Earl said. ‘My family has struggled for a long time to bring them back to life. And this reunion, especially now I’ve seen everyone…it makes me more determined than ever to embrace change, if it means saving our heritage, for future generations to learn about the estate’s past.’
I gazed around at puckered chins and a trickle of applause became a huge wave. Eventually, Kathleen’s appearance brought an end to the clapping. ‘Lunch is ready, Your Lordship,’ she announced.
The Earl smiled. ‘Please, everyone, take your places at the table.’
When we were all finally sitting, one seat remained empty.
‘Norman Barker,’ said Edward, as if reading my mind. ‘The man whose diary I found.’Ah, yes. The man who was staying at his nephew’s caravan park.
I sat next to Lady C, who, in turn, was next to the Earl at the end of the table. On the other side of me was Linda, the midwife. Opposite sat Edward and old Mrs Raynor.
Nick came in, dressed in a tailcoat and the old butler’s jacket he’d worn when the Hamilton-Browns came to that fateful dinner
where I flicked the onion. He helped Kathleen serve wine from the Earl’s cellar. Then the two of them disappeared, no doubt to fetch the starter. I stared at the cutlery and when I looked back up caught Lady C’s eye. She smiled at me. I’d come a long way in a week and hadn’t even considered picking at my bread roll. Less and less I had to ask myself: what would Abbey do?
Nick and Kathleen returned with bowls of steaming soup.
‘Oh, no!’ said Gerry. ‘Lentils?’
‘I haven’t eaten them since rationing stopped,’ said the Earl.
‘We used to call them dead fish eyes, remember, Jimbo?’ said Jonny and everyone laughed.
Roxy appeared, followed by two men. Edward stood up.
‘Norman Barker?’ he said to both of them.
The shorter of the two men held out his hand.
‘Norm!’ shouted Gerry. ‘Still play football like a girl?’
‘Watch it, Green,’ said the short man and grinned. ‘At least I didn’t go in a strop every time I lost at marbles.’
Edward cleared his throat and stared at the taller man behind Norman, who wore an expensive-looking suit and the shiniest shoes I’d ever seen. At the end of the table, the Earl’s eyes narrowed. Gradually, all the cheery chat came to a halt.
‘Dennis?’ said Bill. ‘Dennis Smith, who set fire to the ground floor?’
The man half-smiled. ‘Norm and I have kept in contact over the years. I wasn’t sure whether to come when he told me about the reunion, but, well, I was a kid back then…’ He coughed. ‘Thought about it often over the years, I have. Little ruffian I was. Reckoned matches were exciting grown-up things.’ He walked over to the Earl and held out his hand. ‘I owe you and your family a huge apology.’
The camera zoomed in on him. Gaynor must have been wetting herself at this TV gold.
‘It was no way to repay your hospitality,’ Dennis continued. ‘I never meant to cause so much damage, but I understand if I’m not welcome today.’
Doubting Abbey Page 24