Love in Spring BoxSet

by Jenny Lane

  “Not in the near future. Apparently, she’s staying with friends.”

  “So, why didn’t she go to Australia?”

  “Something cropped up,” Letitia said vaguely.

  “I’ll bet it did,” Lawrence thought grimly. That was Tina all over. She’d no doubt used Letitia’s money for something else.

  “I’ll come to see you again soon, Tish,” he promised before ringing off.

  He hoped he could persuade Rhianna to come with him to Brookhurst. He’d been a bit puzzled by the expression on her face when he’d asked her about exhibiting his paintings. Fiona had been far more enthusiastic than she had, and he wondered why.

  He’d decided Rhianna was a complex person and he was going to have his work cut out to win her round. He grinned as he had a sudden vision of her lovely hair, blue eyes and trim figure. He was prepared to wait for however long it took.

  *

  Rhianna was kept so busy over the next few days that she didn’t have any time to brood about the fact that Lawrence hadn’t phoned. She’d completed her painting of Brookhurst, had begun a second, and also held a taster decoupage class which had been a great success.

  On Monday morning she arrived at the gallery to find Fiona on the phone.

  “Yes, you bet we will - both of us - that’d be great.” Fiona was saying. “Oh, she’s just walked in… Rhia, we’ve just been invited to Lucy’s hen party. It’s on Saturday - a Spa day. I’ve told Emma we’ll both be there.”

  Rhianna knew it was no use trying to wriggle out of it. So she grinned and gave the thumbs up sign.

  “Yep, we’re both up for it.” Fiona told Emma. “Yes, I know you were having problems with the venue - a last minute cancellation. Well, that’s great.”

  “It’ll be fun,” Fiona told Rhianna, when she’d rung off. “I wondered why Emma had taken so long to organise things, but you know how laid back she is. Left it till the last minute and then everywhere was booked up.”

  Rhianna had forgotten all about their friend Lucy’s wedding with all that had been going on in her own life. Fortunately, it was still a month away.

  *

  On Saturday she was glad she’d accepted the invitation to the hen party, because it turned out to be a superb day at a luxury venue. They had the full works - massage, sauna, facial.

  By the end of it, she felt totally relaxed and pampered. It was just what she’d needed after the last few months.

  As they sat over dinner in the elegant restaurant one friend, Sue, who wasn’t in the know, asked, “So how’re things with you and Marcus, Rhia?”

  “Oh, Marcus is just a distant memory,” she replied lightly and realised that, for the first time, she could speak about him without it hurting.

  Sue’s hand flew to her mouth. “Oh, sorry - didn’t realise.”

  “Not to worry,” Rhianna said. “I’ve moved on.” And she realised that she had.

  “You should see the gorgeous hunk she’s dating now,” Fiona told the group of friends and Rhianna kicked her under the table.

  “I always did think Marcus was a sleaze bag,” Lucy commented. “There I’ve said it now. You’re much too nice a person, Rhia, for the likes of him.”

  The others agreed. As they were driving home Rhianna said, “You oughtn’t to have made it sound that I’m going out with Laurie. It’s early days yet and you can’t count lunch with my grandmother and supper with the vicar and his wife as being dates.”

  Fiona grinned. “Well, I’d work on it if I were you. Are you forgetting that meal in the Italian restaurant? It’s true what the others said, you do deserve better than Marcus. Laurie is a considerable improvement. He’s a lovely guy.”

  “Well, I appreciate your concern for my love life,” Rhianna told her, “but I’m a big girl now and I’ll make my own decisions. Besides, I haven’t heard from Laurie for practically a week.”

  *

  Just as Rhianna had decided to go to Brookhurst, with or without Laurie, he rang.

  “Hi, Rhia, sorry I haven’t been in touch, but I’ve been working in Reading for a few days. Tish has just rung me. Apparently, the local drama group in Brookhurst are putting on a performance in the village hall on Friday and Saturday night. Myra’s the producer and half the proceeds are going to the church roof fund. Surprise! Surprise! Would you be interested in going on Saturday?”

  Her heart beat quickened. “Well - er - that would be good, but wouldn’t there be a problem getting home afterwards?”

  “Tish will put you up and I can stay with Tim and Myra. I can collect my paintings from them. So what do you say?”

  “That would be great. I’ll give Letitia a ring to confirm things,” she told him, her heart singing.

  Chapter Nine

  Lawrence dropped off some more of his paintings when he came to collect Rhianna on Saturday morning. They took a basket of provisions so that Letitia didn’t need to think about lunch.

  “My mother’s made Tish one of her cherry and almond cakes. Mum knows how partial she is to that.”

  It was strange to think that Lawrence’s mother knew more about Rhianna’s grandmother than she did. There was so much she needed to find out.

  They made such good time that Lawrence stopped en route at a garden centre so that they could have coffee.

  Lawrence was aware that something had happened to make Rhianna wary of him all over again. She was friendly but distant. He knew about Marcus, having had a snatched conversation with Fiona, on the day of the pottery workshop. Well, he was prepared to wait until she took him into her confidence. Perhaps she just wasn’t ready for a new relationship yet.

  “We’re going to put up the new exhibition next week,” she told him.

  “Great I’m going to collect several more of my paintings from Brookhurst and you’ve got the rest.”

  She used her spoon to take off the froth on her cappuccino.

  “We had intended to close the gallery for a while – just concentrate on the online business but, since all the publicity, it’s taken on a new lease of life.”

  “You must be made up. How are the card-making classes going?”

  “We don’t start them properly until next week. We had a taster session and that went well.”

  The awkwardness between them had eased and Rhianna was more relaxed. He wanted to ask her something else but knew he’d need to wait for the right moment. Move slowly, Laurie, he told himself. After all, only a short while ago he had decided not to have anything more to do with women. He had had his fingers well and truly burnt with Tina, and Rhianna had obviously had a bad experience too.

  “Did Letitia tell you that she’d heard from Tina?” he asked casually.

  Rhianna was startled. She set down her coffee cup and stared at him.

  “No, where is she?”

  “Apparently she didn’t say exactly - staying with friends in London.”

  “Right. Do you think she knows about me going to see Letitia?”

  “I should think it’s highly likely. It’s hardly the sort of thing Tish can keep secret making contact with her grand-daughter. After all, if it hadn’t been for those newspaper cuttings Tina left behind, Tish mightn’t have ever tracked you down. Does it bother you?”

  Rhianna considered. “I don’t think so except…”

  “Except?” he prompted, but Rhianna didn’t hear him.

  She suddenly remembered the phone call and it crossed her mind that it might have been Tina warning her off her territory. Had she left the cuttings in the drawer by mistake? If she’d left Brookhurst in her hurry; she might well have done.

  Perhaps, she hadn’t expect Letitia to find them or she’d been convinced the older woman would do nothing about them, even if she did. After all, Tina had obviously made no attempt to find her father during all these years.

  Rhianna came to with a start to find Lawrence looking at her curiously.

  “What’s wrong, Rhia?”

  “Sorry, I’ve just remembered something. It’s p
robably nothing, but…”

  When she told him, he looked serious.

  “I’d hate to think it was Tina, but we can’t rule it out. She does have a jealous streak in her, but I also believe she’s fond of Tish and could be a bit possessive where she’s concerned. Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

  She brushed some biscuit crumbs from her fingers.

  “Fiona and I thought it was just someone playing silly whatsits. We occasionally have that to deal with.”

  Lawrence stroked his chin, “Rhianna, promise me that if anything like that happens again, you’ll let me know immediately.”

  He didn’t want to believe that Tina could stoop so low, but was aware she could be unscrupulous if anyone got in the way of her plans.

  He shuddered as he had a sudden vivid memory of the incident at the studio. Oh, yes, Tina could be vindictive. He knew that to his cost.

  “What’s wrong, Laurie?” Rhianna asked, blue eyes wide with concern.

  He came back to the present with a jolt.

  “Absolutely, nothing – just for a moment, it was as if a ghost walked over my grave.”

  A ghost called Christina Soames, Rhianna wondered?

  *

  Letitia was delighted to see the pair of them and they sat over a leisurely lunch, filling her in with what had been going on in their lives since they’d last been in Brookhurst.

  “Have you heard any more from Tina?” Lawrence wanted to know.

  She shook her head. “No, not a dicky bird. Mind you, she always was a bit naughty about keeping in touch. Just so long as I know she’s OK, that’s all I ask. I expect she’s off having a good time somewhere.”

  Using the money Letitia had given her for her trip to Australia, thought Rhianna. After lunch, she gave Letitia the photographs she’d taken on her last visit.

  Letitia was delighted. “Oh, Rhia, they’re lovely. Have you seen these, Laurie?”

  “No.” He peered over Letitia’s shoulder and the elderly lady reminisced happily about the afternoon Rhianna had spent with her and the places they’d visited, and then Rhianna produced the painting.

  “After the exhibition you can have it to keep, if you like.”

  Letitia’s face lit up. “Need you ask? Oh, my goodness. What a delightful present! Look, Laurie, she’s managed to get everything in. There are the duck-pond and the village green; the cottages and even the church spire.”

  “She certainly has. She’s captured the very essence of Brookhurst. Well done, Rhia. Tim would like to see this.”

  Letitia snapped her fingers. “I’ve just had a really good idea. Why don’t you have an art exhibition here in Brookhurst to raise money for the church roof?”

  “You sound just like Myra, Tish,” Lawrence teased. “Actually, I think it’s a very good idea. What do you say, Rhia?”

  “Well, if you think anyone would be interested, why not? Although I do need to produce a few more paintings first of all.”

  She felt a glow of pleasure. “What about you, Laurie? Would you be prepared to exhibit some of your work, too?”

  “Me! Oh people have seen mine before,” he protested.

  “Not for a long time,” Letitia said. “I’m sure they’d like to see them again. Think about it.”

  “I’ll do that,” Laurence promised; his eyes twinkling, and got to his feet.

  “Sorry you two. Got to dash. I’ve agreed to help Myra with a few things at the village hall. I’ll pick you up around six forty five.”

  Rhianna wondered if he’d made an excuse so that she could spend some quality time with her grandmother. He had a very considerate streak.

  “Come on,” Letitia told her as she went to clear away. “Leave that for now. I’ll show you your room and then we can take a look at the one that used to be your father’s. Irene’s cooked a chicken and prepared some vegetables for our evening meal. She’s a wonderful help and nothing is too much trouble.”

  Rhianna followed her grandmother slowly up the winding stairs and along a passageway. Letitia flung open a door.

  “I thought you’d like this room, dear. It always was the guest room.”

  The room she showed her into was attractive; decorated in white and green with tinges of pink here and there. The furniture was old-fashioned but right for the house.

  “Irene helped me to get it ready. The beds all nicely aired.”

  “It’s lovely, Letitia. Much more comfortable than the room I had at the pub.”

  Letitia looked pleased. “Now, I’ll just show you your father’s room and then I’m going to leave you alone for a bit.”

  Rhianna followed her back along the passage way where she opened another door.

  “It’s much the same as it was all those years ago. Reg wanted me to get rid of everything, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do so.”

  Rhianna felt as though she’d stepped into a time warp. There was the desk under the window, all set out with pen holder and blotter. The bookcase still had a number of books in it. She could imagine her father sitting there, pen in hand, and felt a lump in her throat.

  “You are free to come in here whenever you feel like it,” Letitia told her gently as if she sensed how she was feeling.

  “I’ll be downstairs. Thought we’d have a cup of tea around three thirty and eat about five thirty - if that suits you. Oh, I should have said - the bathroom’s just opposite your room. There’s plenty of hot water and I’ve got my own en suite, so it’s all yours.”

  Left alone, Rhianna unpacked her bag and looked out of the window which looked over the back garden. It was a pretty garden, full of spring flowers. Daffodils were beginning to open and she could see a magnolia tree in tight bud.

  Presently, she wandered back to the room that had once been her father’s. She went across to the desk and opening the drawers, found drawing equipment and writing materials.

  The heavy mahogany wardrobe was practically empty but there were just a few clothes hanging up, which she supposed had one time belonged to her father.

  It was the oddest sensation, knowing that he’d once been here in this very room. She sat at the desk as he had done all those years ago. The view from the window was of a large cedar tree, its lower branches sweeping the lawn and she suspected he’d climbed it as a small boy.

  It was a lovely room and he’d obviously wanted for nothing. She felt quite emotional and brushed a tear away.

  Presently, she went downstairs and, peeping into the sitting-room, discovered her grandmother was taking a nap, Tansy stretched out beside her. She smiled and, seeking out the kitchen, washed up the lunch things and tidied away as best as she could. Everything was ready for supper as Letitia had said. She put on the kettle.

  When she carried the tray into the sitting-room at around three thirty, her grandmother looked at her sleepily.

  “I must have dropped off. I’ve had such a lovely dream. Your father was here and you, and me and your grandfather. It was May and the Wisteria was out.”

  “That was nice,” Rhianna said, carefully. “I’ve had a lovely look at my father’s room. He was lucky to have such a comfortable place to study. Where did he do his painting?”

  Her grandmother smiled. “Oh, wherever the mood took him. Sometimes up in his room or the garden. Of course, when he was at college it could have been anywhere. When his father wasn’t using the studio at Lilac Cottage, he sometimes went there. It was at the bottom of the garden. Even when Laurie lived there, Reg used to use it.”

  “I’d love to see it - isn’t it there anymore?” Rhianna asked curiously.

  Letitia’s face had a closed expression.

  “No, dear. It had to be pulled down….Shall we have that tea?”

  She set Tansy on the carpet. Rhianna got the distinct impression she didn’t want to say any more about the studio and wondered why.

  She poured the tea and cut two generous slices of Mrs Lorimer’s cherry and almond cake.

  “We won’t want our dinner at this rate, but
there’s only fruit for dessert,” Letitia said, taking the plate Rhianna offered her.

  They spent the next hour looking at more photographs Letitia had unearthed of her father when he was a young boy and teenager. Rhianna’s grandfather was inevitably pictured in some of them and she was forced to admit that her father had borne a striking resemblance to him.

  Lawrence picked them up promptly and took them to the village hall which was already buzzing with people. Fortunately, he’d reserved them seats.

  It was a modern comedy; an extremely funny play about relationships, by a lesser known writer who lived in the area. It was an appreciative audience and the laughter was uproarious.

  “Oh, I’ve not had such a good laugh for a long time,” Letitia said when the curtain rose for the interlude. “Last year we had an Agatha Christie - Murder at the Vicarage. Myra’s sense of humour, but I don’t like bodies all over the place.”

  Lawrence winked at Rhianna and battled his way to the refreshment hatch.

  Irene and Lizzie came across to speak with them. “It’s a hoot, isn’t it? Did you see the newspaper article about the post office raid, Rhianna?”

  “Yes, Letitia sent me a copy. I thought it was very good.”

  “I’m afraid Mavis was still feeling a bit woozy and told them your name was Rhianna Soames. I didn’t realise or I’d have put them right.”

  A feeling of relief shot through Rhianna. At least that explained one thing - those other phone calls must have been from the press.

  Lawrence returned with a tray of tea and biscuits and Irene and Lizzie moved back to their places. A few moments later Myra bustled over to them. She was wearing a fetching red dress and looked every inch the producer.

  “So how are you enjoying your first Brookhurst, Am Dram production?” she asked Rhianna.

  “It’s brilliant. I haven’t laughed so much in ages,” Rhianna told her.

  Myra looked pleased. “Of course Laurie here was a valued member of the cast for several years.”

  “Really, I hadn’t realised that! You’re full of surprises, Laurie.”

  Lawrence laughed. “It’s difficult to live in Brookhurst without Myra cajoling you to join her drama group and I thoroughly enjoyed taking part. It was enormous fun, but it’s a wonderful change - sitting in the audience.”