by Janey Lewis
‘He contacted Gray after all the press coverage over here covering Gray and J-T. He must have understood what my poor brother was going through. Gray says he is running things over there brilliantly, has got the government trembling in its welly boots and the aid sent to where it was needed most. Anyway, going off the point.
‘Gray arrived. Before he could be shipped off into the disaster zone, he and the major apparently started where they had left off so many years ago. Says it’s as though they last saw each other yesterday and found love at second sight. The major is going to join him at one of the refugee camps, and is going to get the BBC to cover the flooding and Gray’s work to help get aid through. Then, when Gray’s work is complete, he is going to stay with the major for the foreseeable future.’ Edmund now downed the rest of his brandy, forgetting about appreciation, just needing obliteration.
‘Golly, Pa’s going to love this. Since Ma died, Pa has been doing everything he can to keep his picture-book model family; all normal, happy and easy-going, hoping we could cope without a maternal figure. And what has he ended up with? One difficult, thrice-married, scandal-ridden daughter living in Abu Dhabi, possibly never to be seen again; one useless, emotionally retarded son and heir, who is managing to ruin the estate before he has even taken over and never married, so no grandson to pass the sinking ship on to; and one gay son who has decided to settle in Bangladesh after bringing shame on the family name and is now about to announce that he is in love with an ex-army major who was saving the world on his own until my family intervened.’
Liberty said calmly, ‘I think you are missing the point. It means Gray is really happy, and that is just wonderful.’
‘But fuck it,’ said Edmund. ‘I think I had always hoped he could be my saviour. He would be perfect as custodian of Denhelm. And I was hoping I could get back to my business while he took the helm of my Titanic.’
‘Oh, don’t be so negative,’ said Liberty. ‘You have only just started out. You are a brilliant businessman, already proven, so just run the bloody estate as YOU see fit and right. It’s only because you are paddling about behind your father at the moment that you feel shaky and out of your depth. Go at it in your own way and things will be fine. Wait until he leaves the place; it would be like me trying to take over this hotel and restaurant. My cooking might be OK, but my father has put thirty-five years of his life into it, and things would inevitably change. You need to gain the respect of those around you, and you will only do that if you step out from your father’s shadow and make your own mark. Yes, you might well tread on toes on the way, but the workers will learn to respect you if you do that, and trust you, if you show them that your way works. Give them shares in the family business if you like – sort out a profit scheme, set up your own ideas. If they work, and the employees earn more, they will feel more loyalty. You said you wanted to put the land to better use; you could either set up a farm shop or raise rare breeds of pigs or cattle, or train racehorses. I don’t know the best way, but you certainly do.’
Edmund looked at Liberty. His jaw jutted out and his eyes grew hard. ‘I’m not sure I need to be told what to do by someone who is so scared to get on with what they want. They keep talking about it, but haven’t begun it yet.’
Liberty’s cheeks flushed scarlet. ‘I have to wait for the tourist season before opening! Of course I’m scared, but at least I’m going to give it a go. I don’t need to listen to this; I was just trying to put some ideas into your head. Maybe you should call parsnip girl for help. I’m going to bed.’
She managed to rise, take hold of her clutch bag and walk out in a straight line without bursting into tears. Bedroom door firmly shut, dress thrown on the floor, she kicked the very hard bed post and then let herself cry bitterly. ‘Bollocks, bollocks and fuck,’ she said. ‘It was such a lovely evening, what on earth did I screw it up for? More bollocks.’
She got ready for bed. The wonderful food and wine now sat like a brick in her stomach. Why is it that mood dictates your digestion? She splashed her face and pulled herself together. How dare he say she was scared? Of course she bloody was. All alone in the world, with a useless barren body, her only talent was feeding people. She could end her days as a dinner lady at the local school, with baked beans and chips etched on her tombstone. She must make her little café work and prove to them all she was capable.
44
Liberty opened her eyes tentatively. She had not been sleeping, not for hours, but had been lying in bed, unwilling and unable to look upon the day. Feeling as she did, a little hungover with shame at how she had behaved, telling Edmund how to run his business and ruining a perfect evening, she was a little surprised to see a glorious day shining in through the large bay window, encouraging her to believe that spring was truly here. She could discern bird calls through the open window. How can they sound so damn cheerful? she thought to herself. And how do I manage to mess things up time and again?
She flung back the covers, made herself an espresso on the machine and sipped the steaming cup while nibbling a biscuit. She gazed at the gardens below which stopped at the river; wild flower meadows flanked the croquet lawns, and the daffodil buds were already in evidence. The meadows would look spectacular later in the year when the wild orchids and poppies were flowering. She had often tiptoed through the dewy grasses barefooted, holding a glass of champagne after dinner. She pondered briefly whether Edmund might have left the hotel without her, but she hoped not; she had been over and over the apology she needed to make. After checking her make-up was perfect and her hair shining she found him alone downstairs, eating kippers and drinking coffee. He glanced up from The Daily Telegraph he was scowling over and pretending to read, then stood politely.
‘I’m so sorry,’ he said immediately. ‘I turned into a priggish bore last night, most unlike me, and I apologise unreservedly.’ In fact, he had been awake until the early hours as well, reeling with his own stupidity. He had felt so happy for Gray and yet he had allowed his own frustration to turn to gloom. He had so wanted to sweep Liberty off her feet. Before taking over Denhelm he had felt he could eventually manage to run it successfully, but now he was all at sea and his confidence was being tossed and turned on the waves. Always sure of himself when it came to his work, he was unused to feeling inadequate – and in this job he had expected his genes to instruct him, instead of which they had downed tools and hidden away. Now he had ruined any chance with Liberty by being a horrible beast, and telling her she was scared, when what she needed was positive reassurance. Stupid fool I am, he thought.
Liberty surprised Edmund by sticking to coffee for breakfast. He felt it was an indication of her desperation to get back home, so he quickly finished what he was eating and went to pay the bill.
In reality, she was wondering if she was different from the women he was used to. She had stuffed her face last night, and had talked only of food. She was so selfish, always discussing her own worries, when what he needed was encouragement and support. The journey home was far too slow and silent, the road filled with Monday morning commuters.
With one hand on the door handle as the car came to a halt outside Deirdre’s house, Liberty said, ‘Please let me pay half the bill. I feel so ashamed of the things I said. You deserve a better friend, but I really enjoyed myself, and thank you.’ She got out of the car quickly, leaving Edmund unable to reply, let alone take her in his arms and whisk her off to Denhelm, which is what he wanted to do. He had to prove himself first, get his pride back, and then do the whisking! God, he even thought like a girl . . . what had happened to him? Love weakens and it hurts, he decided, as he swung the car through the park gates, but goodness me, I want to get it right.
After picking Teal up at The Nuttery, and thanking Sarah for looking after her, Liberty raced back to Duck End, immediately feeling better. The little pug rushed around, obviously just as excited to be back as she was. Liberty loved her home. It enveloped her, and made her feel safe and strong again. How had she ruined suc
h a lovely time?
Teal ran to the sitting room and plonked herself on the sofa while Liberty checked her emails on the computer and realised she hadn’t taken Gray’s message off her phone.
There was one email from Gray telling her to look on Facebook, another similar one from her mother.
There were photos of Gray and a very handsome, tanned man, with chiselled cheekbones and white-blond hair, or was it grey? She couldn’t tell, but it appeared to be brushed back with two hand brushes, in the old-fashioned way, very army. Both men certainly seemed happy. One picture showed them both looking slightly the worse for wear with three dogs, two Dobermans and a Ridgeback, sitting next to them on a garden bench like statues. ‘Me in the Garden of Eden,’ was Gray’s caption. ‘Nelson, Spitfire and Radar all send love to everyone who has supported the Bangladesh Raise Aid for Swept Away Food Campaign.’
Liberty then clicked on ‘search for Deirdre James’. As she suspected, her mother had no Facebook page, so she tried Alain James. There, alongside a photo of her parents’ wedding day, sat Alain’s details. Profession: restaurateur. Relationship status: engaged.
‘Hooray,’ shouted Liberty out loud, so Teal leapt off the sofa to join her and raced round the room. She dialled her mother’s mobile, only to learn it was switched off, as always. Almost immediately Liberty heard a knock at the front door and, thinking it was her parents, she rushed to open it, only to find Fred leaning against the frame, looking as naughty and gorgeous as ever.
‘Hello, beautiful. I’ve got something large, solid and awesome to show you. It’s in the van.’
‘My sign! Yes, of course,’ said Liberty, giggling but trying, without success, to ignore the innuendo. Fred had done her proud. Not only was the sign ready to hang from the large iron rod he had already fixed above the door of LIBERTEAS, but he had made six hanging baskets for the front with knives and forks as the supports to do their magic around the courtyard.
‘It’s wonderful, I love it. Thank you,’ Liberty said admiringly. Before she knew what was happening Fred hugged her and told her it was his pleasure, and as she was the only girl who had ever refused him, would she now do him the honour of taking him up to her boudoir? So brazen was his offer, and so firm and beautiful his body, she hesitated before bursting into laughter and saying no, but would a coffee and piece of cake do instead?
‘It will do for now, but I will have to bill you in that case,’ he said, apparently regretfully. ‘So you will have another chance when I bring it round!’
His Irish brogue really was extremely charming, if the man himself was a little rough around the edges. As they walked to the house from his van Edmund drove past, slowed and sped off.
‘Bloody prat,’ said Fred. ‘Sydney the gamekeeper said he’s so stuffy you are lucky to get a good morning out of him.’ Feeling he had been a little harsh, he followed with, ‘Good rider, though.’
After feeding Fred and ushering him out, although not before receiving a kiss planted firmly on her lips, Liberty was wondering whether she should call Edmund to explain. But there was no need; Edmund had been driving round the village waiting for Fred to leave, and now here he was, banging on the front door.
‘Sorry to be such an ass yesterday. Of course you don’t pay half the bill, or any of it. Despite your damning assessment of your father regarding freebies, there was no bill, and I wouldn’t have accepted your request anyway. Can I come in?’
‘Oh, yes, of course,’ replied Liberty, amazed that he was apologising when she felt it was her fault the evening had gone so wrong.
‘I’ve decided to pull myself together and get on with things,’ he said, finding the courage to say what he wanted to relieve himself of. ‘Starting with using Denhelm Park to help you. I thought the day before you officially open, we could hold some sort of village fair to celebrate. Put trestle tables out on the green with lots of your cakes and tarts and scones, and so on. Have a few traditional village games – throw the horseshoe, Punch and Judy, stuff like that. Americans love it. It will be almost Easter, so the school children can contribute something, and you can introduce everyone to your food, and at the same time raise money for the Raise Aid for Swept Away Food Fund.’
‘What a brilliant idea,’ said Liberty, immediately taking it up. ‘Too early for the maypole, but we can do everything else – coconut shies, archery, tombola. What fun! Lots of bunting and local stall holders, honey, jams, that sort of thing. Maybe a dog show. Everyone loves that. Scruffiest, prettiest, most like its owner. You are so clever, thank you so much for having such a brilliant idea.’
Edmund immediately felt seven feet taller and able to conquer anything he was challenged with. So what if his workers didn’t like him? He had never cared what people thought of him. Why change now?
They sat and wrote some ideas down. Fliers would have to go out very soon, and did he know anyone who could organise perfect weather?
When Deirdre and Alain appeared at the kitchen window Liberty gasped. ‘Oh gosh, I forgot to tell you, they got engaged!’ She went to kiss and congratulate her parents, who were obviously in no fit state to have driven home. Thank goodness for the driver!
‘No, not drunk, darling, just deliriously happy,’ insisted Deirdre, ‘but what a good idea. Let’s open some bubbly.’
Alain watched quizzically as Edmund took a bottle of Ruinart from the fridge. ‘Didn’t it get drunk last night?’ he asked.
‘Two bottles and we had wine with supper. Thank you so much, Daddy, it was utterly perfect.’
‘I’m glad you enjoyed it,’ said Alain, somewhat puzzled that his daughter didn’t seem any closer to Edmund. What was wrong with that idiot of a man? How could anyone resist his beautiful girl? Maybe he would put in a bill after all.
‘What is your ring like, Mummy?’
‘I’ve never taken it off, you silly girl. But Alain has given me this wonderful necklace.’ She pulled back her shirt collar to show a three-strand pearl choker with an emerald drop. On anyone else it would look like costume jewellery, but on Deirdre it glittered and looked regal.
‘Wow! That is certainly a piece and a half,’ whispered Liberty. ‘Are you sure you can afford it, Daddy, as you are shutting the hotel?’ And she laughed. ‘Talking of hotels, how was the Manoir? I haven’t been since my twenty-first birthday.’
‘Too bloody lovely. That place never fails to amaze. Raymond’s ability to stick with what seems classical, but is always extraordinary food, is the tops.’ Alain reeled off what they had eaten and drunk down to the last detail.
‘Yes, yes, but I want to hear how you proposed again,’ said Liberty.
‘Darling,’ said Deirdre, ‘you know Daddy – never one to shy away from embarrassment. Down on one knee in the middle of dinner, just so I couldn’t refuse him. Everyone turned to watch.’
‘Presumably so as to see if I could get up again,’ roared Alain, totally pleased with himself.
‘And they clapped when I accepted. As if I could have turned the old man down!’ finished Deirdre.
Edmund told them about Gray’s news, and Liberty showed them the Facebook pictures. Love hung in the air. Then Deirdre asked Edmund if he knew when Jonathan was off to France.
‘Tomorrow.’ His face fell a little. ‘He will want to see you all before he goes and said to invite you quietly. He doesn’t want a big send-off, so come for a drink tonight about seven? I need to make some arrangements for LIBERTEAS’ grand opening, and I have to check some details. Liberty, why don’t you fill your parents in about the fair, and I’ll get back home.’
Jonathan had packed and was saying goodbye to everyone and everything, wondering for the hundredth time if he was doing the right thing. Just as he was fondly bidding the sundial he and Helena had placed to celebrate the birth of Edmund farewell, his mobile rang. His face softened as he said, ‘Darling, I was just thinking about you!’
‘No you were not!’ was Paloma’s sharp comeback. ‘Stop worrying and crying over what you are leaving behind. It wil
l be there when we come back for Liberty’s opening or for Deirdre and Alain’s wedding. I need you, big man, so be excited, stop moping and get on the damn plane!’ With that she put the phone down. She had been rightly terrified that Jonathan was having second or third thoughts. However, her words had the desired effect. Feeling his first ever thrill at leaving his beloved Denhelm, Jonathan quickly went back to the beautiful house, took his bags, and left for an earlier flight, eager to get away, to lose the weight that had pressed down on his shoulders since Helena left him so alone.
The next day was a strange one after Jonathan’s unannounced departure. Deirdre and Alain had arrived for farewell drinks, only to be greeted by a weeping Mrs Goodman and an angry Edmund. Deirdre told Edmund his idea for LIBERTEAS’ opening was brilliant, and that he would have no problems taking over the helm, but after a quick drink she made her excuses and hurried Alain home.
‘Why did we have to leave?’ demanded Alain. ‘That was damn good whisky he was pouring!’
Deirdre pouted. ‘I cannot believe that Jonathan went off without so much as a by-your-leave. I couldn’t tell him our news, or wish him well.’
Alain put his arm through hers and chuckled. ‘Any lesser man would be jealous. Are you upset he left or upset he left you?’
Deirdre’s cheeks flushed a becoming pink. ‘I just think he could have said goodbye. And leaving poor Edmund like that! I shall tell Ed that Liberty needs him to help test some recipes tomorrow, get him out of the house. I wonder why they seemed so uncomfortable with each other today, they could barely look at each other! And there was me telling you that they were in love!’
‘I don’t think you are wrong there, my darling,’ said Alain as they continued their walk home, ‘but something went askew last night. When I phoned Gary to find out what I owed, he told me that after a good meal, Liberty suddenly left the dining room and disappeared to her room – alone!’
Edmund was delighted to be invited to Liberty’s home – any chance to get away from the feeling of wearing a coat two sizes too large. But later that day, on his return to Denhelm, he felt somewhat uncomfortable from eating too many delicate anchovy straws and tiny choux buns filled with a smoked haddock brandade topped with tapenade, and a vast selection of other titbits. He had not known that canapés could be so delicious, and an entire meal (when you ate fifty of them).