by Eve Devon
Yes. And hopefully staying too.
‘I’ll take that glass of wine now,’ Emma said, her voice soft.
He turned the heat down on the chilli, noticing that her smile held a tinge of nervousness as she poured him a glass as well. ‘We should take these with us.’
‘Am I going to need a drink after I see what you’ve been up to?’
‘No. Maybe. Oh and I need you to wear this scarf. As a blindfold.’
‘O-kay,’ he said slowly, taking it from her.
She took his free hand and led him around the back. He knew his land like the back of his hand but she was a good guide as she led them through the walled kitchen garden and through the archway into the rose garden. He could feel the snow underfoot and then the surface changed and he realised they were walking through the rose tunnel. At the end of it, she reached up and whipped off the blindfold. In a repeat of his words to her when he’d carried her onto the green, she said, ‘Ta-da.’
He opened his eyes, blinked a couple of times and felt the grin stretch wide across his face.
‘This is incredible,’ he murmured, looking down at her before his gaze went straight to the bricked up area he’d broken through.
Standing either side of the archway stood a full-sized knight in armour.
‘Where on earth did you find those?’
‘Believe it or not they were in the attics at The Clock House. Daniel found them when he was clearing out to prepare the office spaces. Old Man Isaac wondered if they’d originally come from here and had been used in a play or at a party or something. You have to imagine the brickwork eventually being covered with some sort of creeper or more roses.’
Behind the knights she’d installed wall sconces with torches and lit them.
‘It’s like a medieval entrance to a secret castle.’
‘Would you like to go inside?’
‘You’ve done more inside?’
‘Uh-huh. You remember what I said you could do to the space to show the photographer when she came? Well, have a look and tell me what you think?’
He walked past the knights and poked his head through the gap in the wall.
‘Wow.’
‘Obviously, you can change it if you don’t like it.’
In what amounted to no more than a ten foot by fifteen foot space she’d managed to create the perfect winter retreat.
‘Where did you put all the snow?’ he asked, looking down at the ground that was part compacted earth, part submerged brick.
‘I didn’t think you’d want it shovelled up in the rose garden so I wheeled it down to the copse.’
She must have been working flat-out the entire time she’d been out here.
As he looked up he saw hundreds of fairy lights criss-crossing their way across the open sky and she’d draped more over huge pots of box that she’d brought in and dotted about.
There was a wrought iron café table and chairs at the end nearest the extra wall sconces she’d installed. The chairs were covered in thick fur rugs and blankets that he’d ended up buying because he’d been so enthralled with the picture she’d painted.
The reality was even better.
On the café table she’d put a large clay pot filled with roses, hypericum berries and mistletoe, from the gardens. Huge storm lanterns had been lit and in the centre of the space was a fire pit she’d stocked with dry wood.
‘Is it okay?’ she asked, a slight breathless quality evident in her voice.
‘It’s pretty much the best thing anyone’s ever done for me.’
‘Okay. I thought if you wanted to grab a couple of bowls we could eat out here.’
‘I love that idea.’
‘There’s one more thing…’ she moved over to the wall by the open archway. ‘This was what I really need the hammer and drill for. It’s a sort of Christmas present. This whole space is, really. An area where you can chill while you work on getting the gardens ready to open to the public. I know you’ll want to do your own design in here when the time is right, especially if you want to use it to do small wedding ceremonies, but I thought you deserved an area just for you. It’ll be getting warmer soon and you won’t want to sit in the library when you could be out here thinking and designing. Anyway, if you’d like to do the honours…’
He walked up to the makeshift curtain pole where she’d hung blue velvet curtains with little tiny silver stars on them which he thought he recognised as the same material Trudie used to make up her summer fortune teller’s tent.
He drew the curtains open and when he saw what was behind them, burst out laughing.
Chapter 39
A Winter’s Tale
Jake
Behind the curtains, Emma had hung up a handmade blue heritage plaque saying:
JAKE KNIGHTLEY
Born 26th February 1986
Garden Designer
Sometimes Crooner
Possessor of the Certain Knowledge that Jane Austen Never Once Visited Here
‘You know,’ he said, still laughing, ‘Crispin popped in earlier to deliver the sad news that his friend of a friend wasn’t exactly on the up and up.’
‘Did he?’ Emma said, her eyes sparkling knowingly. ‘He might have also delivered the lights and some of the pots before going back around to the front to ring the bell and tell you the news.’ She pouted as she looked up at him. ‘Poor Crispin, he was really worried about spoiling your Christmas.’
‘Don’t worry I cheered him up by promising to do a blog on The Whisperings website about the gardens.’
‘You mean sort of like a journal about Knightley Hall? Ooh, we could print them out and stick them in one of those leather journals and keep a copy in the library.’
He wondered if she knew she’d said ‘we’, not ‘you’.
When the emotion of all that she’d organised and done for him clogged his throat, he clinked his glass against hers and took a healthy swallow of wine.
And when looking into her silver eyes produced more emotion, he smiled, and lowered his mouth to hers.
‘Thank you,’ he whispered against her lips and after he’d kissed her, turned to look around the room she’d created for him again.
‘I’m glad you sorted everything out with Seth,’ Emma mentioned later as they sat quietly chatting in the secret garden room.
With the heat from the fire-pit keeping them warm and the bowls of chilli long since eaten, he replied, ‘Me too,’ feeling mellow and happy and all without having put in a day in the gardens. ‘He’s not still in love with Joanne but I think it really shocked him seeing her with another man.’ He looked up from his wine glass and caught Emma’s gaze. ‘I should tell you that the real reason Alice broke off our engagement was because she’d met someone else.’
‘Oh.’
That was all she said.
No judgement.
No trying to coax out a few more details, or hurry his story along.
He watched the candlelight play in her eyes and wondered how he’d ever thought her a chatterbox. She never did that waiting for someone to finish talking simply so that she could start talking again thing and he loved that about her.
Loved that she listened with her heart.
And by doing so, made it easy for him to tell his tale.
‘I didn’t actually discover that nugget until Christmas Day, which was a couple of weeks after she’d broken things off. I should go back a bit,’ he said with a frown. ‘Alice and I were supposed to get married last summer.’
‘I thought your wedding date was the same day as The Clock House opening?’
‘It was. But originally we’d planned to have a summer wedding. Three months before the big day though she asked to postpone it. There was a new contract her office had won and she wanted desperately to be the lead on it. I didn’t see a problem. I knew how important her work was to her and to be honest it left me more time to work in the gardens.’ He glanced up at her. ‘Pretty awful, right?’
‘I guess if yo
u were both happy with postponing…’ she said diplomatically.
‘Yeah, I hear what you’re not saying. And I agree with you. Once I’d had time to think about it, and realise postponing your wedding because of work opportunities wasn’t what getting married was supposed to be about, I said I’d only be comfortable if we could name the new date there and then. Because there was always going to be work opportunities, right? A wedding shouldn’t come second to that. I knew she loved Christmas so I suggested a December wedding.’ He watched as Emma reached forward to top off her wineglass and waited until she’d taken a large sip before he continued, ‘Other than asking if we could go somewhere hot for our honeymoon, she seemed genuinely happy with the new date. She worked crazy-hard on her new project and I did the same here. She had to miss a couple of wedding-planning things because of work but they were mostly family get-togethers to celebrate the upcoming nuptials, stuff like that. The village meeting last Christmas where I announced I’d be donating the Christmas tree for the green, she phoned to say she wouldn’t be able to make and I was really disappointed because I’d told her family and friends would be coming back to the Hall to celebrate. She arrived halfway through the party, very upset, and almost as if she’d lose her nerve if she didn’t just come out with what was on her mind, she told me in front of everyone that she couldn’t go through with the wedding because she couldn’t handle rural life and she knew I was meant to be here.’
‘Wow, she said that in front of everyone?’
‘Hmm. The thing is it was true. She couldn’t handle the lifestyle. I knew it deep down but I ignored it. Alice and I used to ignore a lot of things. Most especially difficult conversations. So I didn’t blame her for announcing it in front of everyone.’
‘What did you do?’
‘I think I just stood there.’ His hand went to the back of his head as he confessed, ‘It’s hard to admit now but while everyone was thinking I was numb from my heart getting broken, I think I was just feeling incredibly sad to have let my family down. I knew how strongly they felt about having someone at my side to share all this with.’
‘So when did you find out she’d met someone else?’
‘She called me on Christmas Day. I thought it was because she’d made a mistake and wanted to talk things through – maybe try again. So I left all my family who’d gathered to have a big day because they thought I needed cheering up, and I went to London to visit her.’
Now, with a trembling hand, he reached over to top up his own wineglass.
‘When I got there she was in a really bad state. At first I thought she’d—’ he broke off, unable to complete the statement. ‘There was so much blood. I mean, I knew she’d self-harmed before but I’d never seen her get so out of control with it.’
‘That’s why you looked so upset when Seth cut himself,’ Emma said almost to herself.
‘Yes. Alice used to self-harm as a form of control. Not over me, but to help her deal with life getting too stressful.’
‘That makes sense.’
‘Does it?’ He took another sip, grateful that instead of looking shocked and horrified she was sympathetic. ‘I don’t think it ever did to me. But then I guess I always had this place and design or gardening as an outlet. Somehow, I could put my hands in the earth, or my head into a design and the world and its problems could, if not melt away, at least quieten to bearable background noise.’
‘For me it’s reading,’ Emma said, her smile gentle, as she leaned forward to rest her chin in her hand.
‘No one knew, which I guess was a pressure-cooker waiting to explode in itself, especially added to our lifestyle in London, which was too much about networking and not enough about simply enjoying each other’s company. She held a senior position in her firm and she felt like she had to keep outperforming in her job in order to keep relevant. She was convinced if anyone ever found out she wasn’t one hundred per cent in control, she’d be judged and sacked.’
‘That’s quite a heavy burden to carry around.’
He nodded. ‘I thought when we came here to Knightley Hall that it would stop. I thought away from the rat-race she wouldn’t need that kind of control or outlet. And then I found out that she was still doing it and I went ape and shouted, when I should have listened.’
‘You shouldn’t feel guilty for not reacting in the perfect way, Jake.’
‘Why not? You are.’
‘But I’m listening second-hand. I’m not hearing the person I love in pain and not knowing what to do to help. So what happened on Christmas Day?’
‘She’d really scared herself and needed help. It took me a while to realise she hadn’t called me because it was me she wanted. She’d called because I knew about the cutting and because I was dependable. It was so bad I had to take her to hospital. While she was being treated she finally told me all about the new guy at work she’d been seeing for months and begged me to phone him and explain.’ He felt his molars grind together at the memory, almost as bad as when she’d opened her front door and he’d seen what she’d done to herself. ‘It wasn’t a pleasant conversation and let’s just say he didn’t want a bar of it. Bastard would have left her sitting there in that hospital getting stitched up all on her own.’
‘So you stayed with her.’
‘What else could I do?’ He lifted his glass to his lips and drank the contents straight down.
‘Nothing, Jake. You did the right thing. You were the friend she needed.’
He stared at the roses between them and bitterness was a chaser to the wine. ‘When she realised the new man in her life had taken the first exit, she sat on that hospital bed asking if I would take her back.’
‘You weren’t tempted?’
He shook his head, adamant. ‘She didn’t love me and as bad as I felt for her, I knew then I wasn’t in love with her. And I was so angry. Angry she didn’t choose me until she felt all other choice had been taken away from her. Angry she would choose a life with me, a man who didn’t make her happy, in a place that didn’t make her happy, just so she wasn’t on her own. And most especially angry that this place I loved so much couldn’t console someone who could’ve done with somewhere peaceful, tranquil and inspiring to recover. But she was never going to see any of those things in Knightley Hall.’ He swallowed and noticed some of the bitterness had subsided. ‘So, yeah…’ he dragged in a breath, ‘I’ve been pretty angry.’
‘Wait – I’m not sure I’m hearing you correctly – you’re saying you were angry?’
His dark eyes flicked to hers in shock and then he saw the teasing glint in her eyes and shook his head that she could make him laugh after telling her all of that. ‘I might have mentioned it.’ He kept his eyes on her as he added, ‘I’m not so angry now. This year, getting closer to finishing the gardens … meeting a minx-like mixologist has made me realise … I thought I needed to get away this Christmas to lay all the anger aside and let it go but I’d already let it go.’
‘Do you still keep in contact with Alice?’
‘Nope. We wasted all that time never properly talking and then we fitted in everything we needed to say to each other in one day. I told her I was going to visit her family and explain everything and she convinced me she’d get help. The last I heard she was doing well and after staying with her parents, ready to start looking for a place of her own again.’
‘Well that’s good. It sounds like she’s getting herself happy and healthy again.’
He reached across the table to link his hand with hers. ‘I needed you to know about Alice because I don’t want this place to be a source of unhappiness for anyone else. I’ve seen it be a fear, a burden and an albatross. It deserves better now.’
Reaching out to lay her other hand over his she said, ‘And so do you. I get it. I really get it.’
Jake looked at their joined hands.
This time last year no way would he have believed in magic.
But Emma being here…
She made him believe in
it again.
He thought about the fact that tomorrow they’d be sitting under the chandelier in The Clock House.
Was it so inconceivable to think that this time next year there might be a wedding in Whispers Wood?
She’d done all this for him for Christmas.
Was he absolutely insane to be thinking about what he could get her for Christmas and wondering if a proposal would make a good present?
Chapter 40
On Christmas Day in the Morning
Emma
Emma Danes was in love.
Proper, grown-up, stuff-books-are-written-about love.
And not just with The Clock House, although she certainly couldn’t deny the pride and the love she felt walking into Cocktails & Chai every day, knowing it was hers to run, to nurture, to grow.
No.
The person responsible for the truly, scary, crazy-wonderful state of being proper grown-up in love with, was Jake Knightley.
Releasing a happy sigh because she’d got to wake up next to him on the morning of her favourite holiday, she took the place-cards Juliet had plonked in front of her and started writing guest names on them. For an extra flourish, and because she was so happy, she drew a little holly leaf next to each name.
‘Are you using the metallic pen to write the names?’ Juliet asked her as she followed Kate around the long table, straightening the angle of every Christmas cracker Kate set down.
‘Um … sure,’ Emma answered, immediately putting the three she’d already written in her bag under the bar and diving back into the box Juliet had given her to search for a gold metallic pen. ‘So just to check I have everyone, I’m writing place-cards for Old Man Isaac, Gloria, Seth, and all of us?’
‘Sounds right,’ Kate said, counting on her fingers as she tallied names. ‘But add in Betty. Daniel’s going to go and pick her up when he gets Isaac so that neither has to trudge through the snow. Oh, and can you add my mum and Big Kev?’
‘So with Daniel, you, Juliet, Oscar and Melody and then me and Jake, that’s thirteen.’