Spring Blossoms at Mill Grange

by Jenny Kane

  Thea patted her friend’s shoulder. ‘Coffee all round? And cake?’

  ‘Please,’ Tina patted her waist, ‘although only a little slice. Now I’ve got the wedding dress, I don’t want to have to go on a last-minute crash diet.’

  ‘There’s nothing of you!’ Thea winked as she headed to the café counter, the chocolate and orange cake she’d seen mentioned on the menu firmly in her sights.

  As Thea disappeared, Tina asked, ‘Are you staying in Bath then, Helen? You can still come back you know.’

  ‘But I messed you and Sam about big time and—’

  ‘And nothing. If you want to come back, you can. But once we’re married and the guests start to come back, we’ll have to know for sure, because if you aren’t coming back, we’ll need to employ someone else.’

  ‘Of course you will.’ Helen thought of the fortlet and how much work she’d put into it already. The idea of someone else taking over made her sad. ‘I’d love to come back, but I can’t. Do you think my successor should write the book on the site?’ She sighed rather more loudly than she intended. ‘I’ll get the notes to you.’

  ‘Why wouldn’t you be able to come back?’ Tina was puzzled. ‘I thought you and Tom had sorted yourselves out.’

  ‘We have, but in the few hours between my arrival in Bath and him following me, I went back to the Baths, and found myself straight back into the fray. There’s an exhibition they need organising, and no one’s free to do it.’

  Thea arrived back at the table, her tray laden with cups and cake. ‘An exhibition? Makes sense they’d want you to sort that out. You were always the best at that.’

  Helen gave a half smile. ‘I gave my word you see, that I’d get it sorted.’

  ‘So you won’t be returning to Mill Grange?’ Tina looked disappointed as she forgot about her no cake eating policy and stuck a fork into the gooey chocolate orange filling.

  Thea sat down, pulling her plate towards her. ‘You want to though, don’t you? Return to Mill Grange I mean.’

  ‘Yes, but I’ve let so many people down lately. I can’t do it again.’

  ‘And Tom? How did he take it when you told him you weren’t returning to Upwich with him?’

  ‘Stoically.’

  ‘Is that good or bad?’ Tina pushed a bowl of sugar cubes in Helen’s direction.

  ‘I haven’t a clue. Sue called and he dashed off before we could talk.’

  ‘What did Sue want?’ A cloud crossed Thea’s face. ‘She called the house last night.’

  ‘I know. That’s why Tom’s gone to see her. She was not impressed at him leaving Dylan alone.’

  ‘Hell, I didn’t think. I should have pretended Tom was too busy to come to the phone.’

  Helen shook her head. ‘Tom wouldn’t want you to lie for him.’

  Thea stabbed her fork at her cake. ‘But you’re still together as a couple?’

  ‘Yes.’ Helen was thoughtful. ‘Ironic, really, as my eventual return to Bath was one of the reasons we took so long to get together in the first place. Tom doesn’t like long distance relationships.’

  Thea found herself thinking of all the months Shaun had been away on excavation since they got together. Over half their relationship had been spent over the phone. ‘I can understand that. But it’s only Bath, and you could meet here. Dylan would love it!’

  Helen grinned, already picturing the boy in one of the suits of armour dressing up kits hanging up in the café’s shop window. ‘He’d be battling dragons for King Arthur in no time.’

  Tina hardly dare ask the next question, but the need to know was burning a hole in her tongue. ‘You will be coming to the wedding now, won’t you?’

  Thea pounced on the opening. ‘Oh yes, please, Helen. Apart from the fact that Tom has to see you in that dress, I can’t stand there on my own. Especially now.’

  Helen didn’t miss the slump of Thea’s shoulders as she stared at her cake, her fork playing with it rather than scooping it up. ‘What do you mean, especially now?’

  *

  Shaun stood in the doorway of the room he’d shared with Thea. It hadn’t taken long for her pile of clothes to disappear from their haphazard heap on the chair in the corner. Apart from a couple of novels and a hairbrush, there was no sign she’d ever been there. With a resigned groan he tugged his rucksack out from under the bed.

  Feeling bad about upping and leaving so soon after Helen had gone, Shaun consoled himself with the fact he wasn’t doing a flit. He had to go. His job may depend on it.

  Cramming all he could into his bag, Shaun left the suit he’d bought to be best man in, hanging in its plastic overcoat on the wardrobe door. A silent message to Thea, that he was coming back.

  Forty-seven

  Friday April 10th

  Thea sat on a bench in the garden, a thick jumper shielding her arms against the early morning air.

  Sam had delivered the message as soon as Thea and Tina had arrived back at the manor the previous evening. The smiles on their faces were immediately extinguished by the news that Shaun had been summoned to the Cotswolds.

  ‘He’s gone too.’ Tina had paled at the thought of another member of her wedding party disappearing.

  ‘He’ll be back for the wedding.’ Sam looked at a silent Thea. ‘I’m sorry.’

  Breathing slowly, Thea had asked, ‘Did Shaun say why he was summoned?’

  ‘Just that he needed to speak to Julian.’

  As she watched the sun rise, Thea wondered if Julian had really summoned Shaun, or if he’d simply decided to go and talk to the producer.

  At least I slept. As the dawn mist floated across the garden, Thea muttered a word of thanks to Minerva for small mercies. Tucking her knees under her chin, her feet resting on the edge of the bench, Thea realised she hadn’t been surprised he’d gone. Part of her had even been relieved. If he wasn’t there, then she didn’t have to wonder what to say all the time, wonder how to act, wonder how to simply be.

  ‘Doesn’t stop me loving him though, does it?’

  You’ve explained all you can. All you can do is wait now.

  ‘That’s so hard. Doing nothing is hard.’

  Sometimes it’s the only thing you can do.

  ‘What will Julian say to him?’

  The Goddess sent a shrug across the astral plain. Whatever is in Julian’s own best interests.

  Hugging herself tighter, Thea thought over her conversation with Tina and Helen. It had been good to lay it all out, to share the confusion that had been running around her head.

  She and Shaun hadn’t had the smoothest ride in their relationship. It had taken a while for her to allow herself to like him, let alone date him. Then, not so long ago, Shaun had been the romantic target of a student archaeologist in Cornwall, and Thea had wondered if she’d lose him to her. ‘I gave him the benefit of the doubt. I listened to him.’

  And you don’t think he’s paid you the same courtesy.

  ‘I made a mistake and said sorry. That should be enough.’

  Perhaps you need to find out why that isn’t enough.

  Thea sat up straight. ‘Hurt pride? No, not Shaun – he’d admit to that. So why? Why won’t he talk to me?’

  Fighting the urge to pick up her mobile and call him to ask that very question, as it wasn’t even six o’clock in the morning, and there was a good chance he wouldn’t answer the call even if he was awake, Thea stared into the woods before her.

  ‘What you’re saying, Minerva, is that I just have to wait.’

  And while you wait, be there for your friends.

  Thea got up and headed back to the house. In two days’ time the place would be overrun with Easter egg hunters and in just over a month her best friend was getting married. Somewhere there would be a whole heap of to-do lists.

  *

  Tom looked down at the figure asleep in his arms. Dylan had been a ball of sugar-fuelled energy when he’d got back to house the previous evening. Too shell-shocked to talk, he’d taken Dylan
on a night time walk, hoping it would both excite and exhaust him.

  Running a gentle hand over his son’s hair, not wanting to wake him, but at the same time, wanting to commit his touch to memory, Tom fought the urge to cry. He wondered if Dylan would develop an Australian accent.

  Picking his phone up off the chair next to the bed, Tom re-read the text he’d received from Helen last night. He was glad she’d gone to Glastonbury to meet her friends. At least she could stop worrying about Tina and Sam being angry at her departure. He hadn’t told her about Sue’s bombshell yet, but he would today. This was too big for him to handle alone. He’d needed Helen’s help if he was going to cope without Dylan.

  I suppose I could move to Bath now. We could be together there and not here.

  Tom looked down as Dylan wriggled in his sleep, his robot pyjamas all twisted around his legs and arms.

  But if I leave, Sam and Tina will have lost me, Helen and Shaun in one week. I can’t do that to them.

  He smiled as he recalled Dylan stalking owls in the woods last night. He’d tried so hard to be quiet, but had still managed to sound like a herd of elephants.

  Realising he hadn’t asked Sue when they were leaving, Tom closed his eyes. ‘Before that time comes, we are going to have lots of adventures Dylan, I promise.’

  *

  Tina found Thea, Mabel and Diane blitzing the drawing room. A tour de force of dusters and furniture polish; they were making short work of any spider’s web or dust that dared to have settled since the room was last cleaned.

  Thea dropped the cloth she was using to wipe the window sill for a moment. ‘We thought we’d crack on. It’s like old times getting the house ready for the public.’

  ‘Thanks everyone.’ Tina gave Thea an appraising look. She hadn’t expected to see her. She’d also expected puffy eyes and signs of strain. ‘Are you okay, Thea?’

  Getting closer to her friend, Thea muttered, ‘Nope, but I’m tired of moping. So, I’m getting on with what needs getting on with – if you see what I mean.’

  ‘I do indeed.’ Tina inhaled the scent of beeswax polish that now hung around the room. ‘Weather forecast is good for the weekend, so looking positive for hiding the eggs outside.’

  ‘Dylan is looking forward to hiding them all,’ Mabel mused. ‘He was going to do it with Helen, but…’

  ‘I’m sure he’ll have fun anyway.’ Thea exchanged a look with Tina. ‘In the meantime, it’s all systems go for Easter Sunday, and, with the wedding just over a month away, it’s all systems go for that too. Both bridesmaids and the best man are detailed to be back here on the day.’

  ‘The best man?’ Mabel paused in the act of dusting.

  ‘Shaun’s had to go back to the Cotswolds ready for the next part of the dig.’ Thea hoped she sounded breezy. ‘I have to go back on Tuesday as well, but we’ll be here for the wedding.’

  Diane was almost jumping up and down. ‘It’s so exciting! Where are you going on honeymoon, Tina?’

  ‘We aren’t.’ Tina’s smile weakened. She’d been trying very hard not to think about that. ‘With Sam’s claustrophobia, hotels and unknown places are out so we thought we’d save the money and have a holiday in a few years’ time, when Sam’s a bit better.’

  *

  Tom swept his phone from the side of the dig as soon it rang. He expected it to be either Sue or Helen. He licked his lips, ready for either a row or a difficult conversation – but it was a number he didn’t recognise.

  ‘Hello. Tom Harris speaking.’

  ‘Mr Harris, forgive the interruption, it’s Charles Phillips. I hope you don’t mind, but I wondered if you could do me a favour…’

  Forty-eight

  Sunday April 12th

  Helen yawned as she pulled the Land Rover up the drive at Mill Grange. It was only eight in the morning, but she’d promised Dylan she’d be there for the whole day so, not wanting to risk getting caught up in the Easter Sunday traffic, she’d left Bath just before six.

  She was surprised at how quiet it was. She’d expected the Easter egg hunt signs to already be up, and Dylan running around with armfuls of chocolate.

  Feeling a little like she was trespassing, Helen wasn’t sure if she should just stroll on in as she always had, or if she should go to the front door and knock. She headed to the kitchen door anyway, hooking her overnight bag on her shoulder as she went.

  As soon as she crossed the threshold, she knew why the drive was deserted. Everyone was in the kitchen. The chatter and laughter floating along the corridor knocked away a little of the strangeness she felt at not knowing which bedroom she was supposed to leave her stuff in. I can’t share with Tom, he’s with Dylan.

  Dylan. She couldn’t believe what Tom had told her. No; that wasn’t true. She could believe it – she just didn’t want to. The thought of Mill Grange without Dylan…

  Don’t think about that now. This is Dylan’s day. It is him you are here for. Nothing else.

  Taking a deep breath Helen called out, ‘Hello! Is it okay to come in?’

  The response was instant. Dylan shot out of the kitchen, closely followed by Tom and Thea.

  ‘Can I say it first, Dad, can I?’

  ‘Say what?’ Helen hooked Dylan up into her arms, and held him tight.

  ‘Happy Birthday!’

  Helen cuddled him closer, inhaling the scent of his freshly washed hair. Her reply of ‘Thank you, Dylan’ was lost as a mumble in his shoulder, before he started to wriggle like a jumping cracker.

  Letting him drop to the floor, Helen found her hand engulfed in his as she was tugged into the kitchen. She looked at Tom, who mouthed ‘Happy birthday, darling,’ as she was towed forwards.

  ‘Surprise!’ Mabel, Thea, Tom, Sam, Tina and Bert chorused, as Dylan pushed Helen onto a seat and climbed onto her lap.

  The kitchen table was heaped with more birthday presents than Helen had had in the last decade’s birthdays combined. A bunch of six balloons sat as a centre piece and a large lemon cake with four lit candles was positioned at the end.

  ‘I-I don’t know what to say,’ Helen stuttered. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘No need for thanks, lass.’ Bert waved from his seat at the head of the table. ‘Your birthday gave me an excellent excuse to leave the house. Thought I was going to be stuck on that sofa forever!’

  ‘It’s so good to see you, Bert. You look well.’

  ‘I am well. Just slow. Darn slow… hate that!’

  Dylan giggled. ‘Bert said a bad thing, Dad!’

  Tom rolled his eyes. ‘And I’m sure Bert is very sorry. Aren’t you, Bert?’

  ‘Whoops, yes. Very sorry.’ Bert winked at Dylan. ‘Now come on lass, open these pressies. We’ve got an Easter egg hunt to prepare!’

  *

  An hour later, stuffed with lemon cake, her cards all lined up on the table before her, a mountain of wrapping paper at her feet Helen was overwhelmed and incredibly happy.

  When she’d woken up that morning, her first thought had been that Tom wasn’t there. Her second had been that she was forty years old. This second thought had made the first infinitely worse.

  Deciding she’d done enough wallowing over the past week for a lifetime, Helen pushed down her feelings about waking up alone on her fortieth birthday, and focused on the day ahead. It hadn’t occurred to her that her friends would remember her birthday, not with the Easter egg hunt, the wedding, Bert being unwell and now Dylan’s imminent departure.

  Deep down though, she’d hoped someone would remember. And most of all, she’d hoped that someone would be Tom.

  ‘Do you like it?’ Dylan had wanted her to save his present until last, and now, as Helen held up the A4 sized notebook with a cartoon dinosaur on the front, complete with a dinosaur pen and pencil case, she knew that, if someone didn’t rescue her soon, she’d burst into tears.

  ‘It is the most perfect gift of all, Dylan, thank you.’ She gave his cheek a kiss, making him grimace and wipe it off with his sleeve, which, in turn
, made everyone laugh. ‘What shall I write in it?’

  ‘Stories!’ Dylan started to bounce around the room, making Helen wonder how much of the sugar he’d had off the top of the lemon cake. ‘The stories you do me at bedtime. My stories.’

  ‘That’s a great idea.’ Helen slipped her new pen into the pencil case. She had no idea how to write a children’s story, but suspected she was about to learn.

  Mabel, who’d been keeping a careful eye on the time, stood up. ‘I hate to break up the party, but we have two hours until the Easter egg hunt starts.’

  Tina nodded. ‘Best get busy then. Sorry, Helen.’

  ‘Sorry?’ Helen shook her head. ‘How can you be sorry? I’ve never been spoilt like this, ever. And I’m looking forward to the hunt.’ She turned to Dylan. ‘Got that map ready for hiding the goods?’

  Tom had been relatively quiet as his friends and his son fussed over Helen, asking about Bath and her plans; making sure she knew this would always be a second home, even if she didn’t come back permanently. Now, as the party broke up, he caught her eye. ‘Do you have time for a quick word before you are covered in chocolate?’

  ‘As soon as I’ve helped clear up this lot.’

  Batted away from having to tidy up by both Tina and Thea, as Sam steered Dylan towards the egg mountain in the drawing room, Helen found herself in the scullery turned office with Tom.

  Something’s happened. Sue must have told him when Dylan’s leaving. Helen found her pulse racing, and suddenly her euphoria turned to nausea.

  ‘I wanted to say Happy Birthday privately.’

  Feeling her rush of anxiety lessen as Tom’s lips met hers, Helen leaned into his arms.

  ‘Did you like all your gifts?’

  ‘Loved them.’ Helen smiled. ‘The mini dustpan and brush set from Mabel might have made us all chuckle, but actually, it will come in very useful.’

  ‘Here.’ Tom fished a small box, all wrapped in gold paper, form his pocket. ‘From me. I wanted to give it to you alone.’

  ‘But I’ve had your present.’