Watch for Me by Twilight

by Kirsty Ferry

  ‘Pretty sure.’ Cassie laughed. ‘I’ll be with you. It’s safe from me at the moment.’

  ‘If you say so.’ He shrugged the jacket off. Cassie couldn’t fail to see the muscles rippling under that tee-shirt as he did that, and she appreciated them quietly.

  ‘Have you had many people come forward with mementoes?’ He laid the jacket over the seat of the motorbike. ‘It’s a period in time that’s pretty close to living memory – or at least still likely to be talked about within families.’

  ‘We’ve had more verbal reports from the forties.’ Cassie waited as he came back across to her. ‘But that’s only to be expected.’

  She walked off towards the pool and he fell into step with her. It was nice to be able to look up at him, but it made her a little self-conscious too. She was used to metaphorically having the upper hand, as it were. Even Alex was only an inch or so taller than her. If she wore killer heels, she was taller than him. And she dwarfed poor Elodie; even more so now she’d given up high heels herself. Elodie said her centre of balance had shifted and she didn’t feel safe on them.

  ‘Yes, I suppose the twenties and thirties are a bit too far away to be real anymore,’ said Aidan. ‘But not totally. Not if you were a child then and a really old person now.’

  Cassie laughed. ‘We do have one or two of those in the village. I’ve made sure it’s all documented.’

  ‘A sad thought, but sensible.’ Aidan held up the book and shook it. ‘If Robert hadn’t done this, we’d be lost. We don’t know much else about his younger years. He seemed to prefer to let the words do their stuff and there’s always been this aura of mystery about his life. I know he went to Cambridge. He was part of the Footlights crew, but we only found that out because someone noted it in a list of alumni. And then he was only twenty-five when he went MIA. Just a few years younger than me. Tragic.’

  Cassie was intrigued. ‘My brother was about the same age when he had to take over here. He felt cheated because his plans all went out of the window, and it would have been so much worse for the people during the war. It must have been horrific to have been told to put your life on the line and call a halt to your own fun.’ She waved her hands around the estate, taking in the odd visitor dotted around the place and the house itself which looked lovely with the sun glinting on the south-facing windows. ‘I know you can’t really compare it, but Alex was forced into coming back and taking over, and he didn’t want to do it. But he did.’

  ‘I understand Robert joined up before conscription, so it must have been his choice. There were rumours, so my grandfather told me, that it was a matter of honour or something. He had one of these flaring, passionate natures and he argued big-time with a woman before he went. Allegedly. I don’t know how much of it is true though.’

  Cassie nodded and thought about the angry Alex who had taken the estate over after their father’s death. Alex and all his demons had moved in lock, stock and barrel. A different sort of person might have channelled that raft of emotions into something a lot more extreme.

  ‘Alex always says he’s the guardian of this place, the trustee. We’re just, as my sister-in-law would probably put it, transient beings in the Hartsford world. Passing through, making our little marks on it.’ Cassie looked around her again, at the overgrown tennis courts and the dank squash courts and the tatty old pool area. The reality of the situation she was in suddenly hit home. ‘Good grief, what the hell am I trying to do here? There is no way all of this is going to be ready for August.’

  It was late April now. She had barely four months to sort out the Spa area. Four bloody months.

  Oh, hell.

  Practically all she had done was order a marquee and make lists about food. Delilah had made sure they started the work on the squash courts. Elodie herself had asked the gardeners to help out.

  Cassie had a disintegrating pool, a staircase that should, by rights, be condemned, and a set of tennis courts that would, potentially, break a person’s ankle if they caught themselves on one of the raised chunks of tarmac. She couldn’t possibly have people walking around here. Not at all.

  And, as she suspected, she hadn’t managed to get a re-enactment group at all, although she had lived in faint hope. But Cassie hadn’t told Elodie about that yet. She would certainly have to ask Kate about the ice-cream bicycle. Just as soon as she got around to doing it.

  ‘I can’t see why it won’t be ready.’ Aidan startled Cassie with his quiet, country voice. ‘It’s really just a bit of weeding, a bit of cleaning and a bit of maintenance. The squash courts should be okay, shouldn’t they? Last time, I’m sure I saw – never mind.’ He shook his head. ‘No. Let’s just concentrate on now. There’s not too much to do, I expect, when you break it all down.’

  ‘Not too much? All those things you mentioned?’ Her voice rose quite hysterically. ‘Really? What about the exhibition and the swimming and the bunting and the teas—’

  She stopped abruptly. She couldn’t even think straight.

  ‘One thing at a time. And how about that one thing for now is simply seeing whether this picture relates to your Spa at all? Here, I think this is about right for the angle. What do you reckon?’

  Before she could object, he opened the book and flipped to the last page. He held it up, so it was kind of superimposed on the modern-day scene in front of them.

  Almost as if the sketch was drawn on a clear piece of glass, Cassie suddenly saw the angles and the buildings match up to the Hartsford Hall she’d grown up with and blend into it seamlessly. The image startled her enough to cut through her hysteria, which was rather an impressive feat.

  There were the tennis courts, there was the corner of the squash court building, its old bricks merging with the charcoal lines on the sketch. There was the pool, the old book blanking out the real mess of rubble and weeds, and looking – if she squinted – like it would have done years ago, just like the old photograph she had used for the press release. And there was a girl lounging on the side of the pool, a squiggle of lines and shadows but recognisable as a figure all the same. For a moment, as Cassie shifted focus and moved her head to view the modern-day scene, she saw a wavery image of the girl, sitting on the side of the pool. She blinked, and the image was gone, but she was convinced she’d seen a glimpse of the Hartsford that was depicted in this sketchbook.

  Her heart skipped a little, a surprised beat, as it always did when one of these images came to her. ‘Good grief, I think you’re right. I’m certain my relative Stella used to host plenty of parties around about that time. It would be nice if they knew each other, wouldn’t it?’ Cassie looked up at Aidan and saw he was beaming. She wondered if he’d seen the same thing, then thought how unlikely that would be.

  He turned and met her gaze. ‘It would. Amazing. You know, the location of this sketch is something that’s puzzled me ever since I was old enough to understand about this book. Now I finally know where Robert spent at least part of his time. We have so little information about him, anything is a bonus. I can’t quite believe he was here, at Hartsford Hall. Imagine that. He might have stood on this very spot.’ He looked back at the Spa and smiled even more widely. His face lit up the Spa and Cassie thought she had never seen anything quite so perfect. But then reality hit her again and sent her into a tailspin.

  ‘Well, I’m really pleased you’ve solved your mystery.’ Cassie folded her arms and stared around the place again, the bubble of anxiety which had been momentarily quelled bursting through her body again. ‘But it still makes me quake when I think about what I have to do to this place.’ Her voice came out high and squeaky and she raised her hand, beginning to chew on her thumbnail; something she hadn’t done for years. ‘I think I need to go off and panic actually,’ she managed to say through the chewing. ‘Maybe they were right – I should forget it. If only someone would give me a sign. This is ridiculous. Okay.’ She put her hands back on her hips decisively. ‘I’m cancelling it. That’s it. We’ll get it sorted for next year. Tha
nk you for bringing the book. I truly doubt I’ll be needing any mementoes at all for this August, but it was lovely to see yours. I do appreciate it, I do.’

  Aidan lowered his book and opened his mouth to speak, but Cassie’s attention was taken by a figure at the side of the pool, and for a moment she wondered whether the figure from the sketch had suddenly materialised properly and was standing on the poolside ready to give her a good talking to.

  Then the figure waved and began hurrying towards her. She blinked and saw now that it was Margaret, carrying a huge bag stuffed full of something. As she came closer, Cassie saw that not only was the bag full, it was overflowing and trailing behind it was the end of a colourful jumble of fabric on a string.

  ‘Bunting!’ Cassie cried, realising what it was. ‘But I haven’t ordered any yet.’ She hurried across the grass to meet Margaret, whose thin face was flushed prettily with the sunshine and the exercise.

  ‘Look! Eve sent the first lot of our bunting down from the community centre. The ladies’ Knit and Natter group abandoned the woolly vests for those penguins and made this instead. They said hemming triangles was just as easy as knit one, purl one – so they did this for us. Isn’t that kind of them?’

  ‘Yes, but those poor penguins,’ Cassie said stupidly. ‘They’ll get cold.’ She reached out and fingered one of the smooth, cotton triangles. This one was pale green and pink gingham. The one next to it was china blue with white spots on it. They were eclectic, mixed up, beautiful pieces of cloth that proved someone was thinking of the Living History Team. She felt a lump in her throat and blinked back a tear. ‘How did the ladies know?’

  ‘You think you can do anything privately in this village?’ Margaret laughed. ‘Think again. They said they hoped it would save some money for you. I just mentioned we needed bunting a couple of weeks ago, and they’ve offered to do the rest if we want any more.’

  ‘So you’ve sorted the bunting out for us? Margaret, I love you. I’ll take as much as they can make.’ It was Cassie’s turn to laugh, and even that came out slightly hysterical.

  Margaret looked at her affectionately. ’We have to work as a Living History Team, darling. That’s what we’re all here for. There’s no way you could have done all this on your own in this sort of timescale. I think you’re doing super well.’ She patted her arm. ‘I have every faith in you.’ Cassie didn’t dare tell her that she hadn’t organised anything truly practical yet.

  ‘So that’s your sign then,’ came a quiet voice, just above Cassie’s ear. She turned quickly, getting a little shock at seeing Aidan there, up above her. ‘Now tell me you want to quit?’

  She shook her head and took a deep breath. ‘No. I’m not quitting. I just need to rope more people in. I can’t do it alone. I’m not Elodie.’

  ‘Few people are,’ said Margaret, ‘and she doesn’t do it on her own. She calls on all her contacts and sub-contracts when she has to.’ She nodded. ‘She might do it quietly, but she does it. You need to learn to do the same.’

  ‘I do.’ She looked at the pool. ‘Does anyone know any swimming pool sorter-outerers? Or have I just invented a trade?’

  ‘You just invented a trade’, said Aidan. ‘But I do know a pretty good civil engineer with a local company who could help you out with that one. Reasonable rates and all that.’

  ‘Who?’ Cassie asked, probably far too eagerly.

  ‘Me,’ he said simply.

  Aidan grinned, enjoying the look of surprise on Cassie’s face.

  As soon as he’d seen the shambles that had been the pool, he’d had his doubts as to whether Cassie could get the place sorted out before August Bank Holiday. But she seemed to be efficient, confident and to know exactly what she was doing.

  Okay, so maybe she wasn’t that confident, he’d realised, just after she had her mini-meltdown, but he knew that he could help her out and could see no reason not to.

  ‘I run a company just outside Ipswich. It’s no problem for us to do some work for you. I can give you a quote.’

  ‘Really?’ Cassie stared at him. ‘You can clear all this up?’ She indicated the broken concrete and the dangerous-looking diving board and the rusty ladder in the deep end.

  ‘No problem.’ He narrowed his eyes. ‘I think, after all that’s done, how about we give the interior of the pool a layer of nice blue tiles as well? Make it look welcoming.’

  ‘Is that what the pools were like then? We have no coloured pictures of this place at all. Or at least none that I’ve seen.’ She frowned, perhaps thinking of some place she could go to see some.

  ‘I’ve seen photographs of outdoor lidos and pools of that era, and they all seem quite colourful. Anyway, even if it was never tiled with blue, this is your project. It’s got to be future-proofed too. Would you like a blue pool?’

  ‘I’d love a blue pool.’ A smile lit up her face. ‘Yes. Can you cost it out for me please? I don’t care what you charge – just do it. Oh. Just so long as my brother agrees.’ She frowned. ‘I really don’t want to bankrupt him.’

  ‘I’ll do my best to keep it low for you. But I take it you understand standard practice is to get several quotes and go with the cheapest?’

  ‘Well, of course. But I don’t think anyone who owns a T5 can be anything but honest with me. Can they?’ There was a steely little challenge in her eyes and he was impressed. ‘Remember, I now know your name, your trade and that you work in Ipswich. I can hunt you and your bike down very easily. And actually,’ she lowered her eyelashes, ‘I don’t really have time to ask anyone else.’

  ‘Fair point. Okay. Is it all right to come back within the next couple of weeks and I’ll be a bit more prepared?’

  Cassie nodded. ‘Of course. Do you want to see anything else here today? I need to get on with something I was doing in the squash courts so I’ll be in there.’

  ‘Great.’ Aidan started to walk towards the pool, feeling his practical non-biker side coming to the fore. ‘I’ll just have a quick look while you do that and get an idea.’

  ‘Thank you.’ The girl smiled at him and he matched the expression. He’d be happy to help her out, he really would. And he told himself it had nothing to do with the attraction he was feeling for her. Not at all.

  The place would need quite a lot doing to it – he could tell that even from here. But – he looked back at Cassie who was stuffing bunting back into the bag and appeared to be having a word with the lady who had brought it over to her – it looked like the sort of thing he would enjoy, and if he pulled his best team in, he was confident they could do it. He loved refurbishing things even more than creating new things. This would be a great project. He would most certainly do it at cost price for her at least, in fact he—

  He started, surprising himself with the train of philanthropic thoughts running through his head.

  He was a businessman at the end of the day. Some people would argue that the best strategy was to trample over people to get what they wanted. He could make a tidy profit from this job. If Lady Cassandra was desperate to get it done and he was the only person she was going to ask – this would be a very nice way of making that tidy profit. Yet already, he was thinking of cost price and what he could do to prioritise this on the company’s schedule.

  Or, he reasoned, he could do it at slightly less than cost price, and hope Cassie Aldrich allowed him to advertise his services to the visitors.

  That seemed a good idea.

  He’d go for that one.

  Chapter Nine

  September 1939

  War came, and it didn’t seem real at first. It was announced in the September, when Stella was still thinking about her birthday party, still having little, secret smiles about the time she had spent with Rob in the concealed room. They’d even mentioned the “M” word: marriage. It made her toes curl pleasurably just thinking about it – but they’d been sensible. They’d agreed they were far too young and had far too much living to do before they settled down and became respectable.

&nbs
p; ‘And anyway,’ Rob had tangled his fingers in her hair and drawn her closer, his breath warm on her skin, ‘being married is quite an outdated concept.’

  ‘We don’t need to be married right now, do we?’ she had agreed. ‘We can just do this and have fun.’

  He’d laughed and kissed her again. ‘I will marry you. But I want to make sure I can support you properly first. And that, my dear, means having oodles of money, actually making money, and not relying on a trust fund that could dry up if we played too hard.’

  ‘You have to leave some of the trust fund for Jack.’ Stella was indignant.

  ‘Of course I don’t. Now don’t look at me like that. Jack has his own which he can access when he’s twenty-one.’

  ‘Oh, ha ha! Poor bugger – that’s a long time to wait.’

  ‘Isn’t it – I’m glad I’m finally past that age now.’

  And they had both laughed and made love again, slowly and carefully, so she could enjoy every sensation. It had been a wonderful birthday.

  Summer was, absolutely, the best time to have a birthday. Why, if her birthday was in the winter like, for instance, Leo’s was, then it would be atrocious. She often thought if she had been that unfortunate, she would have to have a half-way birthday party in the summer; but then again, did she really need an excuse to have a party?

  In fact, she was writing one of her interminable lists, dealing with the idea of a party, when the announcement was made over the radio, and it took Leo to tell her what had happened.

  ‘So what does that mean for us?’ Stella asked.

  ‘Hell on earth,’ he replied, quite seriously. Leo was old enough to remember the Great War, and that had been bad enough apparently.

  ‘They all say it’ll be over by Christmas though.’

  ‘I doubt that.’ Leo was still deadly serious.

  ‘Do you think you’ll fight?’

  ‘No. I can’t.’

  ‘Of course.’ She nodded. ‘I’m pleased about that.’

  ‘Ezzy, if it gets bad, they’ll enlist your friends. Do you understand?’