‘That’s what my brother’s like,’ Jess said with a giggle.
‘That so? Is he audacious too? That’s how I got to know your dad so well – we were partners in crime.’
Jess stared at him in horror. ‘What kind of crime?’
Gruff shook his head. ‘Forgive me, miss. Poor choice of words. Jim and I teamed up to do something that some would consider dishonest. I don’t happen to be among them. There are times when one has to do the wrong thing in order to do the right thing, if you catch my drift.’
Jess folded her arms and said coldly: ‘No, I don’t.’
‘Let me explain. Clifford had a champion racehorse called Sun Queen, stabled at Cheltenham. She won a string of trophies before injury cut short her career. Clifford ordered Jim to take her to the knacker’s yard for slaughter. Robbie Blakeney, his father, loved horses as much as your own dad did. He was furious. Tried to talk his son out of it. But not even he could change his son’s mind. Clifford said he didn’t want the horse in the barn, eating money.
‘Jim and I came up with a plan. We moved Sun Queen to a friend’s field for three months. She had a nice rest, recovered from her injury, grew out her mane and tail, and Jim worked his horse-whispering magic on her. We renamed her Autumn.
‘Luckily, she had a kind, easy-going nature. With Robbie’s help, we brought her back to Blakeney Park as a perfect ride for visitors. Clifford couldn’t tell one end of a horse from another, so it’s not like he was going to recognize her, and none of the staff had ever seen her in the flesh. Last I heard, she was still there. Worshipped your dad, that horse. Seemed to understand he’d saved her.’
Gruff smiled at the memory. ‘I quit Blakeney Park a month later. Couldn’t get along with the foreman. But I never forgot your mum and dad. That’s all I wanted to say. They were good people, your folks. Don’t let anyone tell you different.’
He lifted his coat from a hook outside the greenhouse.
Jess said tentatively, ‘What about the accident? Do you know anything about that?’
The gardener glanced towards the teacher. ‘Don’t upset yourself thinking about that. What’s past is past.’
‘Please, Gruff. I can handle it. It’s so long ago. I just want the truth, that’s all.’
He returned his coat to the greenhouse hook. ‘It was after my time, but I heard about it. Terrible tragedy. Accidents happen, but he probably shouldn’t have been driving. Not in wild weather.’
‘My dad? Why not?’
‘Oh, it wasn’t your father at the wheel. They were in Robbie’s car. It had been specially adapted for his disability. Jim couldn’t have driven it if he’d wanted to. It wasn’t the old man’s fault. A corner of the bridge gave way. Could have happened to anyone. The car went into the river. Jim managed to get them both out and lift Robbie on to the shore, but he was swept away by the current himself. The newspapers made out that Mr Blakeney died of pneumonia. They didn’t want to call it what it was: a broken heart.’
‘You’re saying that Robbie died of a heart attack, not pneumonia?’
‘No, miss – I’m saying he blamed himself for the death of the man he considered a son. He was devastated.’
‘I don’t understand. I know that my dad was his employee but—’
‘Oh, miss, your father was much more than just a groom to Robbie. Old Mr Blakeney cared for him like a son. They were best friends. Kindred spirits. Over the years, Robbie had come to hate his wealth. To him, money had only brought misery. When Jim and Joanna came to work at the estate, their love of nature reminded him of life’s simple joys. A robin’s song. The ancient energy of an oak tree. The innocence of a newborn lamb.’
Purposefully, Gruff reached for his coat. He seemed anxious, as if belatedly regretting his candour. ‘Like I said, I left Blakeney Park a long time ago. No doubt losing his father changed Clifford as it would change anyone. From what I read in that rag, he and Marina are practically ready for sainthoods now. They rescued you and your brother, didn’t they?’
Jess returned to the main building like a sleepwalker.
‘You’re late,’ said Ms Gregory, jingling the keys to the art room. ‘I was about to give up on you. Are you sickening for something? You’re looking quite peaky.’
‘I have a headache,’ admitted Jess. ‘Sorry I was so long. The gardener was explaining something.’
‘Gruff? I’ve only ever heard him grumble.’
Ms Gregory unlocked the door to the art room and went over to her desk. She fired up her laptop.
‘I thought you might like to know that my art sleuthing finally paid off. In the middle of last night, I remembered where I’d seen a painting similar to that little oil of yours. It was in the Dulwich Picture Gallery. The artist is Amelia Starr. The way you can tell for sure is that she never signs her name, just paints a little star. Look, here’s her website.’
Ms Gregory read aloud: ‘Originally from Tasmania, Amelia has worked all over the world. The Scottish Islands, Ireland, Nantucket in the US.’
Jess stared in wonder as Amelia Starr’s gallery unfolded on the screen before her. Most of her paintings were seascapes. Otters paddling in the shallows. Seabirds wheeling over cliffs. A lighthouse in a storm.
‘Still doesn’t tell us where your mum bought the painting,’ said Ms Gregory, ‘but it’s a start. From here, you can try to find out more. It may not be easy. From the little I’ve learned, Amelia’s become a recluse in recent years.’
‘Where does she live now?’ asked Jess.
‘I’m still working on that.’
‘Are there any photos of her?’
‘I’ve only found one. Going on her age, this was taken ten or more years ago.’
Ms Gregory clicked on Amelia’s biography, and the picture sharpened into focus.
Jess blinked.
It was the woman she’d seen watching her the week she’d started at Geraldine Rose. The woman from the leafy London square.
28
SPIES AND LIES
The Dragon Ridge Medal of Courage earned Jude a helicopter ride back to Blakeney Park for the holidays, sparing him a repeat of the grim drive to Wales. All Clifford had asked for in return was a shot of Jude with the trophy for Saturday’s Daily Gazette. Jude had happily agreed. Anything was better than another bout of motion sickness.
The best part about the flight was that Jess was on it too. The pilot, who was based in London, had collected her earlier that morning before setting off for Dragon Ridge.
Jude, who’d counted the hours until he and his twin were reunited, found himself strangely shy when he stepped into the helicopter. To begin with, Jess was just as tongue-tied. But it didn’t take long for them to start teasing one another again.
‘Did the drill instructors force you to play rugby and pump iron?’ Jess asked Jude when they hugged. She squeezed his bicep and raised an eyebrow.
‘Nah, I just built a library,’ he said with a grin. ‘I have so much to tell you, sis. Believe it or not, you and Ms Flowers – she’s the world’s coolest librarian – finally got me reading!’
‘She must be the world’s coolest librarian if she’s got you liking books,’ said Jess, laughing. ‘Oh, Jude, I’ve missed you so much. I can’t wait to hear your news and to tell you mine. I can feather a mainsail and trim the jib in my sleep now! My art teacher got me into e-sailing!’
They smiled almost all the way back to Gloucestershire.
It was the pilot who brought them crashing down to earth. Not with an actual crash, but with a brusque remark as they zoomed across the River Severn: ‘The old man must be spinning in his grave.’
Jess exchanged glances with Jude. The dragonfly shadow of the helicopter shivered over the coppery water and crossed the northern boundary of Blakeney Park.
‘Why would Robbie be spinning in his grave?’ Jess said into her headset.
‘Haven’t you seen the newspaper reports?’ growled the pilot, who was temporarily filling in for the Blakeneys’ regular man. �
�The ancient forest beneath us is being flogged off to developers. If the sale goes ahead on May third, Robbie Blakeney’s paradise will be paved over with apartments and a car park.’
The helicopter zoomed so low over the forest that the tree tops swished like palms in a cyclone.
‘I had the privilege of flying him a couple of times,’ said the pilot. ‘A true gent. He understood that some things are more valuable than gold.’
Jude glimpsed a ribbon of silver through the leaves. Something quivered near the inlet that cut into the forest. He tried to focus on it, but the chopper had turned and was approaching the golden house before he could be sure that he’d seen what he thought he had.
Jess gave her brother a questioning look, as if to say: ‘What’s the pilot going on about? Who’s paving over paradise?’
‘Tell you later,’ Jude mouthed back.
It was surreal landing at Blakeney Park after everything they’d been through. On the one hand, it seemed only yesterday that they’d left under a cloud after the row with Caspian and his parents. On the other, so much had happened.
As the helicopter rocked to a standstill the twins’ eyes met. The journey had reconnected them. Whatever fate had in store for them from now on in, they’d face it together.
For weeks, Jude had promised himself that the first thing he’d do once he got back to Blakeney Park was tear down to the kennels with Jess to cuddle Sam.
That plan was scuppered when Clifford, Marina and Caspian greeted the twins like long-lost friends beneath the hallway chandelier.
Assembled behind them stood a crescent of beaming staff. Only Lizette was missing. Later, the twins learned that the au pair had been ‘let go’ after an undisclosed ‘incident’.
‘She probably got fed up with Caspian ordering her around as if she was his personal assistant,’ Jess said to Jude.
She wondered again if the newspaper story about the Blakeneys’ shady ‘enforcer’ was true. Could such a character exist? Had Lizette complained to Marina about Caspian, then suddenly found herself being accused of laziness, or ‘mislaying’ something belonging to mother or son?
Much to the twins’ disappointment, there was no time to see Sam before lunch. They barely had time to freshen up before they were ushered into the main dining room. There, too, the Blakeneys were niceness personified.
Caspian had had a major attitude adjustment. He smiled and nodded and even congratulated them both on their awards: Jude on his Dragon Ridge medal, and Jess on her art and English prizes.
‘I almost preferred it when he was behaving like a beast,’ Jess whispered to Jude when they had thirty seconds to themselves between courses. ‘What have they done with the real Caspian?’
After a maddeningly slow lunch, the family moved to the drawing room for coffee and biscuits. Some visitors arrived and talked about the media world and golf until Jude thought his head might explode.
Even after the visitors left, the twins weren’t free because Marina insisted on personally showing Jude his new room. ‘It’s finally ready. Sorry it took so long, Jude. I hope it meets with your approval.’
The room was hard to fault. It was the ideal teenage den, as envisioned by an expensive interior designer. Jude felt bad for wishing he could be in the stable room instead. He’d been looking forward to being within breathing distance of Autumn again.
‘It’s amazing! Thank you so much,’ said Jude with what he hoped was the right degree of enthusiasm.
Jess was happy at first because their rooms were linked by a connecting door, but it turned out that the key was missing.
‘I’m sure it’ll show up,’ Marina said, in the tone of someone aiming to make quite sure it never would.
Jude was unable to contain himself any longer. ‘Please may we be excused to go and see Sam?’
Marina seemed perplexed. ‘Who’s Sam?’
Jess struggled to conceal her irritation. After all this time, how could the woman not know the name of their Swiss Shepherd?
‘Sam’s our dog.’
‘Ah, the dog.’ Guilt flitted across Marina’s flawless face.
Jess paled. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘You can explain, can’t you, darling?’ Marina said to Clifford, who’d entered the room like a dark star, in his thousand-dollar suit. ‘About the dog?’
‘What dog? Oh, that dog. Couldn’t be helped, I’m afraid. Slipped his lead and got in with the sheep. Cost us a king’s ransom in vet’s bills getting a lamb stitched up. We couldn’t have a dangerous animal like that around the farm. Some of our rams are worth their weight in gold.’
Jude felt a freezing rage seep into his bones. ‘I don’t believe it. Sam has never wriggled out of his collar, not once in his whole life. And he’s not a killer. There were kittens and chickens around the diner and he never touched them. Where is he?’
His voice rose. ‘What have you done to our dog?’
‘When did this happen, Mr Blakeney?’ asked Jess, as softly as if she were asking about the weather. Had Clifford known her better, he’d have been worried.
‘Not long after you left,’ snapped Marina. ‘Eddie dealt with it. Obviously, we didn’t want to distract you from your schoolwork by telling you we’d been forced to send Sam to the local shelter. The good news is, he was adopted within days and has gone to a good home. If you love him, you’ll be happy that he’s happy. It’s a win-win situation.’
‘How is it a win-win for me and my sister?’ demanded Jude with cold fury. ‘Sam’s our family. Our ONLY family.’
‘ENOUGH!’ Clifford shook slightly, as if he was struggling to control his own temper. ‘He’s a dog. We’ll get you another someday. For now, I’ll have no more of this fuss.’
‘We can’t stay here till we’re eighteen,’ Jess ranted to Jude the next morning. ‘We’ll go nuts. These people are like pantomime villains come to life.’
The twins were at the stables, stroking Autumn. Neither of them had slept. They were too devastated and too angry. Walking down to the stables, they’d taken a detour to Sam’s former kennel, hoping that the Blakeneys had relented overnight and sent Eddie to retrieve their dog from his new home. But he wasn’t there. A vicious young Rottweiler had taken his place.
Jude had been so enraged that Jess had done everything she could to distract him. She’d told him all about Letitia and the painting. Now, as they bonded with Autumn in the stables, she made him laugh with the story about Gruff and their father conspiring to defy Clifford by saving the racehorse from the slaughterhouse.
‘I can’t believe they rebranded Sun Queen the exracehorse as Autumn, a beginner’s ride,’ Jude said with a grin. ‘That’s hilarious. If Clifford can’t even recognize his own racehorse, he’s not as smart as he thinks he is. Neither is Marina. Our parents stood up to them. We can too. We just have to figure out a plan.’
The horse in the next stall shifted. A groom they didn’t recognize ducked under its neck and grinned at them. ‘Don’t mind me. Just checking for ticks.’
‘Everywhere we turn at Blakeney Park, there are spies and lies,’ despaired Jess as the twins walked off up the lane ten minutes later, anxious about how much the man had overheard. ‘I’m starting to believe that our mom fled this place for a reason. Not because she was grieving, or had stolen Marina’s ruby ring, but because she was afraid. Jude, what are we going to do? Without money, where do we run to?’
‘Why did they even foster us?’ Jude said. ‘That’s what I don’t understand. They’ve never wanted us here. Do you think they felt guilty about falsely accusing our mother of theft or something—?’
Right then, an SUV with blacked-out windows came hurtling around the bend, its engine purring so quietly that the twins only just had time to flatten themselves against a yew hedge.
As it whipped by, all of the hairs stood up on Jess’s neck. There was no apparent cause. It’s not as if she could see anyone in the vehicle.
The twins were almost back at the house when the post van came rattlin
g down the lane. That, too, almost mowed them down.
The postman pulled up beside the SUV and jumped out. ‘Sorry, kids,’ he said as they walked up. ‘I didn’t mean to give you a fright. My fault for driving too fast. An overturned tractor held me up for ages, and now I’m running behind.’
He took a stack of mail from a bag. ‘Would you mind calling Terence, the valet?’
Jess was about to answer when she spotted the Geraldine Rose School for Girls logo on the top letter. She said sweetly, ‘We’ll take the post.’
‘I have strict instructions to only hand it to Terence or Marina.’
‘We’ll take it to Marina. No problem at all.’
The postman looked at his watch. ‘I s’pose that’s OK. Mind you carry it directly to Her Majesty.’
‘Oh, you can count on it,’ said Jess, crossing her fingers behind her back.
The minute the post van roared away, she slipped the Geraldine Rose letter into her pocket. If, as she suspected, it was her school report, she didn’t want any lectures on trying harder from Marina.
Jude was flicking through the rest of the mail. ‘Hey, Jess, this one’s for us. And here’s another that looks the same, only addressed to the Blakeneys.’
He handed her a blue envelope with a curlew stamp on the front.
Jess recalled seeing a similar letter soon after they’d arrived in England. With a glance at the house, she ripped open the envelope addressed to her and her brother and read aloud:
Dear Jess and Jude,
I hope this finds you in the best of spirits and health. This is the last time I will write in hope of hearing from you. I understand that your superb new schools and wonderful new life at Blakeney Park must be keeping you busy. Forgive me if my correspondence is unwelcome. As your godmother, I would so love to meet you, even if it’s only once. Your mother entrusted me—
‘How dare you!’ Marina swooped on Jess and snatched away the letter. ‘How dare you read my private mail, you monstrous child.’
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