by Emma Davies
‘Red kites,’ he replied. ‘See the distinctive colouring underneath, almost chestnut-red with vivid white patches, and bright-yellow talons?’
‘They look huge!’ she replied, entranced by their effortless flight.
‘Well, they have a wingspan of about two metres, so yes, pretty huge.’
She watched them for a while longer before switching her gaze to Jasper himself, and finally she understood. His feet were planted firmly apart as he stood motionless beside her, the wind ruffling his hair and buffeting the front of his jacket, but he seemed not to notice. Instead, he was at one with the wind and sky, face upturned, a smile lighting up his face as his eyes followed the kites this way and that. Here, Jasper was in his element – not sitting around a table in a boardroom or shaking the hands of suited businessmen, but here, out in the field, where no-one ever came except him, and Dougie, and the birds.
‘Numbers of kites are on the increase in Shropshire, but they’re still not that common. We’ve got quite a few breeding pairs now, and I’m hoping to set up a proper feeding station. People will come from all over to see them.’
‘People?’ asked Lia, surprised. ‘Why would you want people here? I’d have thought you’d want to keep this all to yourself?’
Jasper laughed. ‘Well, within reason… but there’s plenty of room for all of us. This is a bit extravagant for just one person, don’t you think? No, I’d like to get some hides up, maybe think about accommodation as well.’ He tapped his head. ‘I’m still planning it all out, but I’ll make it happen… one day soon.’ He turned away from her again, eyes on the sky once more.
A sudden strong gust of wind caught at Lia and nearly overbalanced her. She put out a hand against Jasper to steady herself, the sudden contact making her blush for some reason. She went scarlet as he pulled her in closer, rubbing her arm.
‘Bit fresh, isn’t it?’ He nodded at Dougie. ‘We’d best go down,’ he said.
She immediately thought of her mum back at home. Even with Christopher’s very competent care, she felt awkward about leaving the house, and she really had no idea what time she would be home. As if reading her mind, Jasper glanced at his watch.
‘We’ll grab a bite to eat, shall we, and something warm to drink? I’ll give Christopher a call and let him know what we’re up to.’
Lia could only nod, but she felt suddenly very out of control. She was used to taking decisions and, lovely though Jasper was, it felt odd doing things at someone else’s behest.
They said their goodbyes and left Dougie to his duties, Jasper promising to catch up with him later.
‘What did you think?’ asked Jasper once they were settled in the Land Rover again. ‘Perhaps you can see why I love it?’
‘It’s beautiful,’ she agreed. ‘And it must be the most amazing place to live… I can’t imagine what it must be like, but I can see how it makes you feel. You seemed rather different when we were up there.’
‘Less uptight?’
‘At home, I think… yes, definitely, you looked at home, at one with the place.’
‘I was lucky enough to be able to buy it several years ago, but it was purely by chance that I spotted the kites. Since then I’ve taken on Dougie to keep things ticking over for me; he doesn’t always say a lot, but he shares my love for these amazing creatures, and I wouldn’t be in a position to even think about throwing in the towel with the family firm if it wasn’t for him.’
‘It must make you very happy,’ surmised Lia, looking at his face as he kept his eyes on the narrow track.
‘It does,’ he agreed, with a slow intake of breath. ‘And what makes you happy, Lia? I mean, really happy?’
Lia thought for a second, surprised by the answer that popped into her head. She couldn’t say that, though, so she chose a different word.
‘Dancing,’ she said. ‘That, and when I see Mum as she used to be. It doesn’t last long, I know that, and I know she isn’t getting better, not really, but…’
Jasper risked a sympathetic smile at her. ‘There’s always hope,’ he said.
Lia shook her head. ‘No, she won’t get better. I understand that, but these past few weeks have helped her enormously, and I only have you to thank for that.’
‘No thanks required,’ he replied. ‘You’re a special person, Lia; it’s very easy to help you. In fact, I consider it a privilege.’
The air in the car grew suddenly warm and Lia was grateful to see the array of buildings come into view once again. She wasn’t sure quite what to say, so instead she said nothing, running her finger along the edge of the forest-green scarf Jasper had lent to her along with the boots. It was beautifully soft.
Chapter Twenty-Six
The kitchen was blissfully warm after their exposure to the wind on the hillside and Lia sank gratefully into a small armchair, wiggling her toes, which felt like blocks of ice. Jasper was busying himself with an expensive-looking coffee machine, which, she was told, made gorgeous hot chocolate too.
‘Will a sandwich do?’ he asked. ‘Bacon? Or sausage, perhaps?’
‘Sausage I think, if it’s not too much trouble.’
‘With onions, I hope?’
‘Of course!’ She smiled, her mouth beginning to water at the thought. Her sandwiches, when she could be bothered to make them, were usually just cheese and pickle. This was a real treat and made more so by the fact that someone else was doing the cooking. She sat back in her chair, idly watching Jasper at work.
‘You can go and explore if you like,’ he said, his back still to her. ‘I don’t mind. Just open and close all the doors and you’ll soon get the gist of it. I’m not really good with the whole guided-tour thing, but you might like to have a wander by yourself.’
Lia, looking around the kitchen in awe, had been thinking just that, and she wriggled forward in her chair.
‘I’m not even sure I could make it back to the hallway,’ she said, trying to remember the rooms they had come through.
‘That way,’ pointed Jasper. ‘Follow your nose and you’ll be fine. And if you get lost just shout, I’ll hear you.’ He turned back round to face her. ‘Oh, and when you get to the room with all the bookcases, pay particular attention.’
Lia gave him a puzzled look. ‘Okay,’ she said slowly, heading for the door.
It was an odd sensation wandering through the rooms in someone else’s house by herself. Part of her, the polite, well-mannered part, didn’t want to be nosey, but the other part was intrigued by this snapshot into somebody else’s life and wanted to shamelessly snoop at every little detail. It did occur to her that perhaps this was why Jasper had suggested she go by herself – almost as if he wanted her to see these things that made him who he was but without him having to explain anything to her. She knew him well enough to know that he wouldn’t be at all comfortable with that.
His love for his family was clear to see. Photographs covered the walls in two of the rooms; one was obviously an office and the other a much more informal sitting room, where she could see that Jasper spent most of his time. There were more personal possessions here than in any other room and although it was meticulously tidy, like the others, she could imagine Jasper sitting here of an evening reading, perhaps with a glass of wine. One or two of the rooms were very grand indeed, and had rather an austere air about them, but this one, despite having the same ornate panelling to the walls and intricately painted ceilings, was furnished much more simply; a mixture of the traditional and modern. She pushed open a door, gasping when she saw what was ahead of her: she had obviously found the library.
For a moment, she felt just like she was in a stately home. The ancient books had lent their particular smell to the space, and mingled with the scent of old polish it was like stepping back in time. She circled the room, awestruck by the rows and rows of leather-bound volumes that filled a whole series of inset, floor-to-ceiling bookcases. It was some minutes before she remembered Jasper’s words to her. She could see nothing unusual about the r
oom – in fact it was almost symmetrical, with shuttered windows down one side and doors at either end. Most of the rooms she had ventured into had interconnecting doors and must have been located along one side of the grand hallway, and this seemed to be no different. She strode across to the door on the other side and pulled it open, expecting to see another room. Instead, she was surprised to find a deep cupboard, stacked full of chairs, of all things. She closed the door again, thoughtfully.
It wasn’t until she crossed the floor to look out the window that she realised her mistake. The view of the rear garden was wide and to her right, jutting into the space, was a vast pair of bay windows, each set with three huge panes of glass. They must belong to the room next door, and, if the previous arrangements were anything to go by, there should be a door into it from here. She crossed the room once more, this time examining the wall next to the cupboard.
She chuckled when she found it. The only thing that gave it away was the slightly bigger gap between two sets of bookcases, bookcases which were exactly the same width as the doors… There was no obvious handle so she pushed at the outer edge and was rewarded with a bit of give on one side. As she released the pressure, some sort of spring-loaded mechanism forced the door open. Carefully, she pulled it towards her, and peered beyond into a small corridor, which, she realised, exactly matched the dimensions of the cupboard. At the other end of the corridor was another door – presumably into another room.
She walked forward. Her mouth dropped open as she passed through the door and peered beyond, eyes raking from ceiling to floor, across the vast space and back again, taking in the sweep of the imposing architecture, the delicacy of the ornate detail. She’d never seen anything like it. The ballroom stretched away from her, huge arched bay windows extending down an entire wall, allowing light to flood in, onto the mahogany floor. The opposite wall was wood-panelled with sunken marble frescos and in the middle an enormous fireplace jutted out, its centrepiece a huge figurehead with pale marble skin, its hair gleaming with brushed gold.
Lia lost herself in thought for a minute, captivated by the idea of her swirling passage across the space – seeing the flash of the mirror at the far end and the jade ceiling with its intricate plasterwork overhead as she twirled, crystal chandeliers leaving a trail of light across her eyes as she moved faster and faster, the music sounding out the beat of her heart. Here was the room her dreams had taken her to. She hurtled back to the kitchen.
Jasper was plating up two rounds of sandwiches as she burst in.
‘You found it then?’ he asked.
‘You swine!’ Lia laughed. ‘Why didn’t you tell me you had a ruddy ballroom here? Talk about an unfair advantage. And not just any ballroom either, but one fit for royalty.’
‘It is rather special,’ he agreed, his eyes dancing in tune with the expression on her face. ‘I’d like to say something profound about it being the reason I fell in love with the house, but alas, the ballroom and my new-found desire to dance are entirely unconnected.’
‘Well, I don’t care,’ Lia declared. ‘I’m taking you in there for a spin whether you want one or not.’
Jasper pushed her sandwich across the counter towards her. ‘Come on, let’s eat first. I haven’t slaved over a hot stove for nothing. We can argue the toss later.’
Lia joined him at the huge island unit in the centre of the kitchen and pulled out a stool to sit down. Her sandwich was about an inch and a half deep, and the sight of the golden onions peeking from its sides brought a rush of saliva to her mouth. She was suddenly starving.
Beside her, Jasper took a huge bite, and was about to go in for a second when he broke off, catching her eye.
‘Oh, I rang Christopher, by the way. You’re not to worry, everything is just as it should be. They’ve had a lovely morning, making Rice Krispy cakes, among other things.’
Lia swallowed hard, a lump of bread caught in her throat. She had completely forgotten about her mum. She placed her sandwich back down on the plate, tears coming from nowhere. How could she have been so thoughtless, so selfish? She was too busy being swept away by the life that someone else led, that’s what it was. A grand house and a few birds had been all it took to make her forget her responsibilities and behave like a giddy schoolgirl. Her mum was her responsibility, not Jasper’s, and she would do well to remember that.
She pushed her plate away and was about to stand when she felt a strong grip on her arm.
‘No,’ said Jasper bluntly. ‘Sit down.’ He was watching her intently as his hand slipped down to grasp hers. ‘Don’t do this to yourself, Lia,’ he said. ‘You deserve so much better than this. You’ve done nothing wrong… except allow yourself to be who you really are for an hour or two. Not Lia the carer, or Lia the dutiful daughter, but instead the Lia who loves the feel of the wind in her hair, or the young princess who dreams of a life beyond the castle walls and who’d give her eye teeth to be at the ball. You’ve come to life in the last couple of hours – don’t let guilt persuade you you’re not worth it.’
Lia wrenched her hand away. ‘Have you quite finished?’ she demanded, her embarrassment showing itself as anger, flushing her cheeks bright red. ‘How dare you think you know me – what I want, what I think. Just because you feel duty-bound to your family, too, don’t think I’m just like you… because I’m not.’
Jasper looked at her, quietly and calmly. There was something in his eyes that Lia couldn’t quite fathom. ‘Regardless,’ he said, ‘when you’ve calmed down I think you might find that we have more in common than you suspect. You think I’m being preachy, but I’m not. I’m just telling it like it is, Lia. I’ve not only been there and done that, but I have the tee shirt in every size, colour and shape imaginable… and, I’m trying to be a friend.’
She stared at him, her mouth struggling to form words from the tangle of thoughts in her head – thoughts she was already beginning to suspect would tell her that Jasper was right. But she didn’t want to acknowledge them; she couldn’t acknowledge them, because if she did, where would that leave her? What would it mean for her? She didn’t have a huge pot of money like Jasper did, or a big house in which to chase her dreams. She had to be Lia the carer and Lia the dutiful daughter because the other Lia simply didn’t exist, and never would.
‘Please eat your sandwich,’ said Jasper softly. ‘And if you really want to, I’ll take you home straight after. Just tell me one thing: earlier today you said you wanted me to show you what it was that made me different from who I usually am, the thing that relaxes me. Why did you want that?’
Lia looked up in surprise. She had completely forgotten that. Despite herself, she could feel the corners of her mouth curving into a wry smile.
‘Because you dance like a duck trying to ride a horse,’ she said. ‘Your body thinks it’s a duck and therefore there’s no possible way it can either ride a horse or dance for that matter. You have all the technical stuff down but you don’t feel the music – you don’t let it fill you up and work itself right down deep inside, so deep that it becomes a part of you so that when you dance the music comes spilling out too. People want to see the music, Jasper, not your arms or legs moving through a routine. Your body needs to feel the rhythm and become part of it. In fact, it must be the music.’
‘So, I need to relax, to feel like I do when I’m up on the hill?’
‘Partly…’ she agreed. ‘But it’s more than that,’ she added, nibbling at the edge of her sandwich. ‘Think about how you feel when you watch the kites and why that relaxes you.’
The taste of the sweet onions rolled over her tongue and she took a bigger bite, chewing slowly while she waited for his reply. She saw the moment when he found the answer for himself.
‘They’re so at one with the sky,’ he said. ‘Huge birds and yet they glide and soar as if they’re weightless.’ He broke off suddenly, his own emotion catching at his throat. ‘I imagine that’s what freedom must feel like.’
Lia leaned forward. ‘And that
’s how you must dance,’ she whispered. ‘Let go. Feel the music around you like air.’
Jasper nodded, his hand reaching out once more to take hers. ‘Shall we?’ he said.
It was different the minute they stepped foot onto the floor. Jasper pressed a button on his phone and the whole room filled with the rich sound of the piece they had been dancing to. He turned up the volume.
Lia smiled. ‘Don’t watch your feet,’ she said, marvelling at seeing them reflected in the huge mirror at the far end of the room. She took his hand and laid her other gently on his shoulder waiting for the cue in the music, and then she stepped out to follow his lead.
Three and a half minutes was all it took for them to find the freedom they both so desperately craved. The music soared above them, taking them higher one minute and then swooping them down to the ground the next, as they moved around the ballroom in effortless flight. At times, Lia felt as if her feet were hardly touching the ground, and as her own inhibitions relaxed she became aware of another sensation. Strange though it was to her, she let herself be open to it. By the time the music faded, the boundaries between her and Jasper were blurred and indistinct. She was as much him as he was her, and as they came to a stop she rested her head against his chest.
They stayed that way for several minutes, catching their breath, calming their emotions to the point where they were able to speak once more. Lia could feel Jasper’s heart beating through the thin fabric of his shirt, a sensation she could never remember feeling before, and it suddenly struck her what it was to be human.
‘Not a duck in sight…’ she murmured and felt a ripple of amusement pass through the muscles in Jasper’s stomach.
He pulled away from her, holding her at arm’s length as if to see her better.
‘I didn’t just imagine that, did I? Please tell me I didn’t.’
Lia shook her head. ‘You didn’t,’ she replied. ‘That was the most real thing I’ve felt for a long time. See, all it took was something special to unlock it—’