by Kirsty Ferry
‘Aidan originally came to show me something from his uncle. When you see it, that’ll cheer you up no end.’ Cassie wrapped her fingers around the Styrofoam cup and cast a look at Aidan. ‘It’s your great-great-uncle, I think, isn’t it?’
Aidan nodded and took a sip of his tea. ‘It is.’ He smiled at the blonde woman. ‘Here you go.’ He pulled the sketch book out of his pocket and handed it over to Elodie. ‘Check out the end pages. See if you recognise anything.’
Elodie handled the book as if she was a true archivist and understood how precious these things were. She carefully opened the book from the back and whistled softly. ‘This is extraordinary.’ She looked up at Aidan. ‘The Spa, yes? In, I would say, the late thirties, early forties?’
‘I think so,’ replied Aidan, and Elodie nodded.
‘It’s the clothes of course.’ She pointed to the tennis players and the lady by the pool. ‘The whole style of it – it just fits that era.’ She smiled at Cassie. ‘What a find. Thank you, Aidan. That’s wonderful.’
‘Isn’t it incredible?’ asked Cassie. ‘But I’m sure even you won’t know the whole story behind the book. It belonged to Robert Edwards.’
‘The war poet?’
‘The very same!’
‘I studied him for English at school. He didn’t write masses of poetry, but what he did write was so perfectly crafted.’ Elodie shook her head, as if in awe of the young man who had once owned this book.
Aidan felt his heart swell with pride over this great-great-uncle of his – he really had deserved the recognition. ‘Yes, that’s the man. If you look at the book, you can see he dabbled in many things. I’m afraid art was not his strong point though.’
‘He painted worlds with his poems,’ Elodie mused. ‘He didn’t need to draw them for us to see. It’s the imagery he uses and the words he crafts. Amazing.’
She bent her head over the book and flicked through the pages, pausing every so often at one of the scribbled pictures.
‘I’m afraid I didn’t pay much attention to the other pages,’ added Cassie, ‘but I don’t know if there are any particularly brilliant sketches in there.’
Elodie nodded in agreement, pulling a face at what might have been a dog or perhaps a horse. Aidan had never been sure. ‘So what’s the connection with Robert and the Spa then?’
‘I don’t know.’ Cassie looked up at Aidan, almost guiltily. ‘Sorry, that was probably a question you should have answered. He’s your relative. You must know more than me.’
‘That’s okay. I would have said the same thing. All I know is he must have visited here enough times to be comfortable with lounging around your pool and drawing the other guests. We’ll probably never know. Oh —and I believe they usually called him Rob. Perhaps that will help you to make the links?’
Cassie sighed. ‘It’s like we’ve got half a story here. Robert’s story. And, to be honest,’ she pointed at the girl by the pool, ‘I think she’s got the rest of it. I think it’s Stella, Elodie. The girl in the photograph we found?’
‘Oh! The Rita Hayworth lookalike? Quite possible.’
‘You could be right,’ Aidan agreed. ‘We don’t have much belonging to him, so I can’t tell you any more beyond what we know here. Jack just took what he could, I think, after Robert left. But at least I’ve got a couple of photographs.’ He frowned. ‘They’re at home. Maybe I should have brought them today. Oh, well.’ He shrugged. ‘One of them has a bit of a random quote on the back, but I think he was one of these chaps who liked to portray a bit of a persona? You know? A cryptic sort of person. The quote says Reach for the Star. Dance until we die. It’s always annoyed me that he missed the “s” off “stars”.
Cassie looked at him and it was her turn to frown. ‘Robert was cryptic? So he probably did that on purpose then.’ Her face cleared and she smiled. ‘Good old Robert. He’s got us debating what he meant in his writing even now. Just like a true literary master.’
‘I don’t know about that,’ Elodie commented, passing the book back to Aidan who pocketed it again. ‘I often wonder whether people like Emily Brontë really meant the things that people interpret in Wuthering Heights.’ She stretched, arching her back and pressing her hands into the small of it. ‘It’s all contextual reading nowadays. People love the literary debates. Maybe they just wrote a rollicking good tale without any hidden meaning at all.’
‘Maybe,’ said Cassie. ‘It’s definitely a literary debate though, isn’t it? One that could rage relentlessly.’
Elodie nodded. ‘Yes. Oh, you know what you should do, Cass? Look in the archives. See if you can find anything about Robert visiting. Or Rob, perhaps. Or even Stella.’ Her eyes twinkled mischievously. ‘There’s plenty to look at, once you can find it.’
‘She means I’m supposed to rummage in the rubbish in the attics,’ Cassie told Aidan with a smile. ‘Speaking of your archives, have you found any plans for the Spa on your travels?’ Cassie sat down on the steps into the caravan.
Elodie looked at her blankly. ‘Plans? There are some plans around, but I’ve not come across any for the Spa.’
‘That’s a shame. We just discovered another one of Hartsford’s secrets over there.’
‘Oh! Please – tell me! What did you find?’
‘It’s a hidden room.’ Cassie couldn’t stop her smile spreading. ‘It’s built into the changing rooms – you know, that big block next to the pool? It’s behind the fountain in there. I think it was where they prepared to go skinny-dipping. Or where they stashed their champagne and hid away like a speak-easy. Now there’s a thought.’
Elodie seemed impressed and her bright blue eyes widened in astonishment. ‘I can’t believe I’ve lived here so long and don’t know about that. Crumbs, we used to roam everywhere when we were kids. Is that from the thirties as well, then?’
‘I’m really not certain.’ Cassie frowned. ‘We probably passed the door a thousand times and never thought anything of it.’
‘I think it might be the thirties,’ said Aidan. ‘Around about that time anyway, give or take a few years. It’s Art Deco, the same as the pool. The décor in the hidden room is a match for it. The stonework in the wine-cellar is Art Deco too. It’s all been done at the same time or later, in that style, but having been inside the room, I think it’s original.’
‘You went in the room!’ Elodie’s eyes widened even more. She closed them and groaned. ‘God, I wish I’d been there. Having said that, I’d probably get wedged at the minute.’
‘You have to wriggle behind a false wall. It was fun. I’ll take you after T-Day.’ ‘T-Day’ was what they’d started calling the anticipated date of the twins’ birth: Twin-Day.
‘Might I make a suggestion?’ Aidan put in. ‘It might be worth your while keeping the information about the room private for now.’ He looked at Cassie. ‘I don’t think you’ll be wanting tourists trying to get in during your weekend.’
‘You’re right. I was just thinking that, but I didn’t want to sound selfish.’ She looked into the tea cup and grimaced. ‘Paper cups would end up in the wine cellar, wouldn’t they? With crisp packets and God knows what else.’ She frowned, thinking of the visitors she despised – the litter louts and the ones who thought it was acceptable to hang bags of rubbish on the trees. Alex, Elodie and Cassie still lived on the estate after all; it was their home – and it just wasn’t nice.
‘If anyone finds out about it, just tell them your consultant civil engineer advised it was too risky to use it.’
‘Thanks.’ Cassie laughed. ‘On one hand, I want to shout about it and show it off, but on the other, I want it kept private.’
‘That’s understandable.’ Aidan looked at his watch. ‘I’m afraid, though, that I’m going to have to dash off now.’
‘Oh. Okay. Thanks for coming.’ Cassie’s heart sank, just a little bit. He’d be heading off to the lovely Petra, no doubt.
‘It was my pleasure.’ Aidan smiled. ‘I want to get this costed up for you while
it’s still fresh in my mind.’ He paused for a moment. ‘Would you like me to leave Robert’s book for you?’
’Oh, would you? Yes, please.’ Little bubbles of excitement rose in Cassie’s stomach. ‘That would be awesome. Then next time you come we can …’
She wasn’t exactly sure what they could do next time he came, hence the fact she left the sentence unfinished.
‘It’s okay. I’ll get it back after the event.’ He smiled. ‘Hang onto it until then. And let me know if you find anything in your archives. I’ll be in touch with a quote and my staff will be down to sort it all out for you.’
Did that mean he’d be sending his workmen down to do the job instead of coming back himself? He’d be spending his time with Petra, doing whatever Petra did best? The thought was depressing.
She had hoped she’d see Aidan Edwards before August, but it now seemed unlikely.
1940
Stella couldn’t forget the feeling, deep in her stomach, when she received that letter from Rob. She thought she was going to be sick, she really did.
‘I never meant I didn’t want to marry you!’ she cried, re-reading his angry words. ‘I just wanted to wait!’
He was right, of course. She had come across as silly and selfish and been all those awful things he’d called her. Her most hideous character traits looked terrible written down. Especially in his handwriting. Her cheeks burned and the words blurred and she felt even more hideous that he had thought her just exactly that bad.
The worst of it was that she couldn’t defend herself. She had no way of telling him what the hell she really meant. She knew he had to join up – but she didn’t want him to do it before he had to. She wanted to marry him eventually, of course she did, but there just hadn’t seemed any point until he was safely home. He hadn’t understood that. Or had she simply not stated it clearly enough? She wracked her brains, trying to remember how she had worded it, but it made her cheeks burn more fiercely and her stomach churn even more, every time she went there.
So, desperately, Stella wrote to Rob again, but the letter was returned unread.
After a couple more attempts, she asked Leo to address an envelope to Jack instead – perhaps she could get Rob to accept a letter via his younger brother. Jack was the only person she could think of who was a link to him. But Jack was only sixteen and as he was now living with an aunt, the letter took a little while to find him. Part of Jack seemed to miss his brother deeply, but it sounded as if the greater part was almost bursting with pride and he yearned to join him in battle.
I don’t exactly know why he joined up so suddenly, the boy wrote in untidy handwriting. He just said he had to do it. He threw out his sketch books before he went, but I managed to rescue one of them, and a photograph too. I now have a picture of him in his RAF uniform and he looks very smart. I think I’d quite like to be in the RAF. I’d love to fly a plane!
Stella thought she knew the answers to Rob’s reasoning, but she didn’t think she could share any of it with Jack. The worst of it though, was that Rob had quite deliberately attempted to destroy his sketch books and Stella cringed with humiliation. Was that her fault as well? Had he tried to erase his life with her in one of those flares of passion he was so good at? She really did feel utterly wretched.
So where, she asked Jack desperately, is Rob based? She had some strange notion that she could rush down to the base and see him, rather like she had done when she had pitched up in Cambridge.
It’s classified, came the answer. I really wish I knew. If he tells you, will you let me know?
Yes, Stella wrote back, her heart twisting, tears running down her cheeks. I’ll be sure to.
Chapter Fifteen
Present Day
Aidan was surprised at the length of time he’d stayed at Hartsford. The fact he had spent some extra time with Cassie Aldrich was a welcome bonus – and he’d not even dreamt about finding a secret room and being the first person inside it for decades. The only dark cloud had been the idea of Tom. In Aidan’s imagination, he had stayed in close contact with Cassie throughout the project and one thing would have led to another …
Ah, well. It was that day-dreamer side of him again. He smiled wryly to himself, remembering how he had described Rob as a dreamer to Cassie earlier.
Cassie was quiet as she walked him back to where he’d left his motorbike, and he wondered if she had started worrying about the event again.
‘It’ll work out right in the end, you know.’
‘What will?’ She looked up at him.
‘This.’ He shrugged. ‘The weekend. It’ll be great. We’ll get your Spa sorted out and there’ll be people flocking over to Hartsford Hall in August.’
‘Oh. Yes. The weekend.’ Then eventually, she spoke again. ‘I have no doubt the weekend will be fantastic. It’s partially the fact my mother has surfaced again that’s bothering me. My brother isn’t at all happy, as you might have guessed. I know Elodie extremely well, and I can tell it’s having an impact on her too. It’s just not fair. I wish I could do more for her.’
They turned the corner and he saw the T5 where they had left it, the helmet slung over it, along with his jacket. There was a man looking at it, leaning over, his face inches from the engine, his tousled dark hair curling around the back of his neck.
‘Alex!’ Cassie hurried over to him and tentatively reached out to squeeze his arm. The man stood up and turned to them. This, then, was Cassie’s brother – she definitely shared his looks.
Alex started when he came face to face with Aidan, but his brooding expression lifted for a moment and he held his hand out to Aidan. ‘Nice bike. I don’t think we’ve met?’
‘I’m here on business. My company is going to sort out the pool for Cassie. Aidan Edwards.’
‘Ah, nice to meet you. I’m Alex Aldrich.’
While they shook hands, Cassie slipped away from Aidan’s side and headed towards the gates.
She pressed the panel on the side and they slid open, then she turned back to Aidan. ‘So you’ll definitely call me with the quote?’ There was a little light of fear in her eyes as if reality had hit again and she thought it was never going to happen.
‘Yes. Definitely. I have your number. And here.’ He handed Robert’s book over to her. ‘Take care of it. I hope you can add a little more to Rob’s story – I want to know what he was like when he was younger. I think I would have liked him.’
As she took the book, their fingers brushed, and they caught each other’s eyes, just for a moment and Aidan knew he hadn’t imagined the little thrill of electricity that zinged up his arm. Cassie was the first to look away, a blush creeping over her cheeks.
‘Thanks. It’s been an interesting morning.’
‘It has.’ Aidan paused for a moment, feeling he needed to say something – but nothing seemed right. And really, what did he need to say to her? Hey, d’you fancy a drink later? Can I spend a little more time with you?
It eventually boiled down to five words and a smile. ‘Thanks. I’ll be in touch.’
He took his jacket and shrugged it on, then pulled the helmet over his head. Fastening the straps, he watched Cassie through the smoked glass visor. There was just something about her that made him feel – different.
Aidan climbed on the T5 and wheeled it around so it faced the gates. He switched it on and revved the engine. He roared off towards the lane and lifted his hand in a wave.
He saw Cassie through his rear-view mirror. She was hugging the book to her, and she lifted one hand in a wave.
And funnily, he didn’t like that feeling of driving away very much at all.
‘So are you going to tell me what’s going on, or not?’
Alex’s voice broke into her thoughts. She had been staring rather stupidly at the cloud of smoke and dust that was settling over the lane in the wake of Aidan’s T5.
‘Nothing’s going on.’ She was still staring at the lane. She noticed that the trees had a smattering of dust on them from
the road. They’d had a very dry spell and the roads were baked a bit.
‘Who is he?’ She could tell Alex was making a great effort to impart that gentle teasing note in his voice; the one she heard more often now that he was settled with Elodie, but hadn’t heard at all over the last couple of weeks.
She sighed. ‘Just a man. A man who owns a civil engineering company who I’ll be outsourcing work to if you’re happy with the quote. He’s got a girlfriend called Petra, so don’t even try to be funny about it. Oh. And he brought this along as well.’ She raised the book. ‘It’s fascinating.’
‘How so?’ Alex held his hand out for the book.
‘It’s the last page. His great-great-uncle was Robert Edwards – yes, the war poet – and he drew a picture of our Spa in that book. So he must have visited. I’m allowed to use it for the Country House Weekend.’
‘Incredible.’
‘Yes.’ She turned her back on the lane Aidan Edwards had just driven away down. Then she tugged the blue scarf off her wrist and stuffed it in her pocket. He’d forgotten it, which was a good thing, as he might want that back long before the end of the Bank Holiday weekend. Surely, Petra would miss it, if nothing else. ‘And we found a secret room behind the changing block. I think it was for skinny-dipping.’
‘Really?’ Alex looked at her, his eyes wide, the book half open in his hands. ‘A secret room? In that rotten old building? How come we didn’t know anything about that one?’
‘One of the many things Daddy didn’t bother sharing with us,’ she said, slightly sarcastically. ‘A bit like that information from our mother. About the court battles, and the post-natal depression. Have you had a think about it?’
Alex nodded briefly. ‘I have and I still don’t know if I believe any of it. Why would she leave it twenty-odd years? Wouldn’t you think she would have tried to stay in touch with someone, just to see how we were getting on? Wouldn’t you think that once she was over the PND she’d try to make it up to you, somehow, at least?’