Love in Spring BoxSet

by Jenny Lane

  She lay awake for a long time that night. Was she really so transparent that Keir was able to see into her heart? He was ten times the man Brett was. In that moment, she made up her mind to let go of the past and concentrate on the future.

  ***

  ‘You’ll never believe what I’ve done,’ Aunt Rose said, greeting Sophie at breakfast the following morning. ‘I’ve only double-booked myself. Should have looked on the calendar. I’m supposed to be at the vicarage this afternoon discussing church matters with the friends of St. Bartholomew’s.’

  ‘Right, that’s no problem,’ Sophie told her. ‘Keir and I can manage perfectly well between us at the shop.’

  ‘Well, if you’re sure.’ Aunt Rose hesitated. ‘But what about locking up and setting the alarm? I don’t think Peggy would be too happy if I gave the code out to all and sundry.’

  Sophie laughed at this and Aunt Rose clapped her hand to her mouth, as she realised what she’d said. ‘Oh, you know what I meant, dear.’

  ‘Yes, I’m only teasing. Don’t worry about a thing. I’ll sort it out with Keir,’ and she picked up her mobile.

  It was arranged that Sophie would drive Aunt Rose to the shop before John Munn left and that as soon as Keir arrived, Sophie would then transport Aunt Rose to the vicarage for her meeting. After Rose’s meeting, Sophie would collect her, so that she could lock the shop and set the alarm.

  ‘What a palaver!’ Rose said. ‘I’m getting forgetful in my old age!’

  ‘Nonsense,’ Keir said. ‘You’re just a spring chicken!’ Rose dissolved into laughter and Sophie reflected that he was good with old and young alike.

  ***

  ‘Right,’ Keir said, once they were on their own in the gift shop. ‘I’ve redone the window display whilst you were taking Rose to the vicarage. Shall we have a look at some of those boxes? I reckon there must be around thirty.’

  Sophie whistled. ‘As many as that! Where do we begin?’

  ‘If you’re in agreement, I’d actually like to start with the top shelf. There’s something that’s caught my attention.’

  ‘I’ve gathered that, but you’re obviously not prepared to tell me what it is, are you?’

  ‘Patience is a virtue,’ he said. ‘Give me a hand, will you?’ He clambered up the step stool and perched precariously, stretching up to reach the top box which he then handed down to Sophie who placed it on the table. He brought down two more and said, ‘That’ll do for now. Shall we take a look?’

  Sophie nodded. The boxes were sealed carefully with parcel tape and labelled in a bold marker, but then she gasped as she saw another label on the side which she recognised as being in Hugh’s handwriting.

  ‘These have come from Rowanbank, haven’t they?’

  He nodded. ‘I don’t want to say any more until I’ve had a chance to look at the contents.’ He reached in the backpack he’d brought with him and produced a knife which he used to slit the tape. The first box revealed a number of objects wrapped in newspaper.

  ‘We need a system, otherwise we’ll have nowhere to put these and they’ll ultimately have to be repackaged,’ he told her.

  Sophie found a wastepaper basket, scissors and cellotape and Keir impatiently cleared a space by putting a number of the display items on the floor. He then turned his attention to the contents of the box. Sophie watched in amazement as he unwrapped a number of pottery bowls and vases, some glass dishes and some wooden ornaments.

  ‘I don’t understand,’ she said. ‘What are all these things doing here?’

  But Keir was studying the items, turning them this way and that, a preoccupied expression on his face.

  ‘Right, there’s not much to get excited about in that lot, so if we relabel the box we can eventually dispose of it. To answer your question, Sophie, I think someone was having a bit of a clear out and got over enthusiastic.’

  The second box was much the same as the first — mainly bric-a-brac.

  ‘Third time lucky,’ Keir murmured, and shook his head as he unwrapped some of the stuff on the top of it. After a moment or two he looked up.

  ‘It looks as if I might have been wrong, after all. What a disappointment!’

  ‘Keir, I wish you’d tell me what it is you’re looking for ...’

  ‘To be honest, I’m not sure, but when and if I come across it, I’ll let you know.’

  Several times they were interrupted by customers coming into the shop, plus one or two other folk who’d seen the shop open and wanted to enquire after Peggy Munn.

  After they’d repacked and relabelled the third box Keir shimmied up the step stool yet again. Sophie watched as he reached up and exclaimed.

  ‘There’s one more here! I’d almost overlooked it! Fingers crossed, Sophie!’

  ‘But I don’t know what I’m crossing them for,’ she protested laughingly and, stretching up, took the box from him.

  First he unwrapped a couple of attractive pottery bowls.

  ‘Ah, these are more like it. Now, what have we here?’

  He moved aside a layer of newspaper and handed her a carefully wrapped parcel.

  ‘This, I believe, is the property of your father.’

  Sophie stared at Keir in astonishment. ‘But how — what? I don’t understand.’

  He did not reply, being intent on rummaging further into the box before straightening up, clasping another smaller package. ‘At last, I think this could well be Rose’s inheritance. Wait a minute, there are more.’

  Sophie looked at the carefully wrapped parcels and read the labels in Uncle Hugh’s unmistakable writing.

  ‘A voice from the grave,’ she murmured. ‘Did he give them to Peggy for safe-keeping and then she forgot about them?’

  Keir shook his head. ‘No, I think they were mistakenly brought here by Erica. I spoke to her on the phone last night.’

  ‘Oh, I might have guessed Erica would have had a hand in it!’

  His eyes blazed. ‘And why aren’t I surprised at your reaction?’

  The pair of them stood glaring at each other for a moment and then Sophie said unsteadily, ‘Why do you always stick up for her? What is it between the two of you?’

  Keir paused for so long that she thought he wasn’t going to reply and then he said in a low voice, ‘Erica and I — we’ve been through a lot together. It will probably surprise you to know that she was with me at a charity dinner when I introduced her to Hugh.’

  The knowledge sank in slowly. ‘Right, but the fact remains that Erica denied all knowledge of the gifts Uncle Hugh had left Rose and my parents, but she obviously brought them here at some stage.’

  ‘It was a mistake, Sophie. Don’t judge her so harshly. She had no idea the packages were in those boxes. She wouldn’t have done that intentionally. Anyway, the wretched things have been found now, so does it really matter how they came to be here?’

  Sophie shook her head, not trusting herself to speak. There were so many unanswered questions.

  Keir sighed. ‘The problem is, we’re going to have to clear this with Peggy Munn. Erica says she didn’t receive any money for the boxes, because she agreed to wait until Peggy had sold the contents. Erica assures me she’d completely forgotten about them until I spoke to her, but technically, as they’re on Peggy’s property, I suppose we can’t just walk off with them and so, for the time being, we’d better not raise your family’s hopes by mentioning our find.’

  ‘If you say so.’

  Keir saw the crestfallen expression on her face and, moving towards her, caught her hands in his. ‘I know how much this means to you.’

  ‘I just wanted to sort it out. Uncle Hugh intended Aunt Rose and my parents to have a keepsake that he had selected for them. Aunt Rose loves the bowl you gave her for her birthday, but although it belonged to Hugh and Mary, it isn’t quite the same as if they had intended it for her, is it?’

  His expression softened. ‘You’re a very caring person, Sophie,’ he said gently. ‘We’ll sort it out.’ Keir turned back t
o the box. ‘I thought I’d completely emptied this, but there’s something else.’

  He removed another package and unwrapped it carefully to reveal an exquisite pair of ceramic candlesticks.

  ‘I don’t believe it — no wonder Erica said she couldn’t find these!’

  He set them down on the counter and then picking one up, turned it over in his hand.

  ‘Hugh bought them for Erica for their first wedding anniversary,’ he said slowly. ‘I thought she would treasure them.’

  ‘Perhaps she didn’t realise they were in the box with the other things.’

  ‘Thanks, Sophie. I’d truly like to think that was the case,’ he said gruffly.

  ‘Were they made by the same potter as the other pieces Hugh left you?’ she asked quietly.

  He nodded, as if not trusting himself to speak and bowed his head, but not before she had seen the raw emotion in his eyes. She moved to his side and caught his arm.

  ‘Tell me, Keir. What happened.’

  He shook his head and suddenly she was in his arms and he was kissing her, but the kisses were bittersweet because she sensed he was still swamped by memories of the past.

  ‘Tell me, Keir,’ she said again, when they drew apart.

  For an answer he placed a finger on her lips.

  ‘I will, I promise — very soon, and you must tell me your story too.’

  She was saved from replying because the shop door jangled just then and Aunt Rose came in carrying another box of eggs.

  ‘Frances gave me a lift on her way to collect the children from school.’ She looked from one to the other. ‘Is everything all right?’

  ‘Yes, indeed,’ Keir replied. ‘Very all right. We’ve had an extremely productive afternoon. We’ve sorted through some of those boxes, and it only remains for me to speak to John Munn before we can dispose of the contents.’

  Sophie caught his gaze and realised that she’d need to keep very quiet about their find for the time being.

  There was something else she was going to have to keep to herself too — the knowledge that she was in love with Keir Ellison.

  Once he had seen the contents of the boxes from Rowanbank, John Munn did not waste any time. Keir phoned Sophie to tell her that John had spoken with his mother, who vaguely remembered Erica bringing the boxes to the shop. Who had been responsible for stacking them on the top shelf was a mystery in itself.

  Peggy said that it was highly unlikely that she would have paid Erica anything until there had been a sale, but there ought to be some sort of record in her stock books.

  John promised he’d take a look and get back to them as soon as possible and that in the meantime, Peggy insisted that the parcels that were very clearly labelled, should be handed to the people they were intended for.

  Keir thought the right thing to do would be to contact the solicitor on Monday. In the meantime, they agreed to remain silent on the issue.

  After they’d finished discussing this over the phone, Keir said casually, ‘Sophie, I realise this is very short notice, but I thought I’d have a run down to Rye tomorrow. There’s a pottery I’d like to take a look at so, if you’re free, I was wondering if you’d care to come along?’

  ‘That’d be great,’ she assured him, her heart pounding. ‘I haven’t got anything planned apart from going to the farm shop for Aunt Rose.’

  ‘Right, if you can fit that in early, I could pick you up by ten,’ he said. ‘Have you been to Rye before?’

  ‘I’m not sure — maybe when I was a child. It’s in Sussex, isn’t it?’

  ‘Certainly is. Medieval flavour, cobbled streets, harbour, one of the Cinque Ports — ring any bells?’

  ‘Probably, in the dim and distant past.’

  ***

  The weekend which had previously seemed as if it would be uneventful, now took on a new dimension. Sophie knew that every moment spent with Keir would be precious. She told herself she mustn’t read too much into his kisses which she accepted had been something to do with the candlesticks — something that she didn’t understand.

  She supposed Keir would confide in her in his own good time, but for now she was determined just to enjoy his company.

  They set off soon after ten o’clock. It was a bright February morning and here and there they spotted clumps of snowdrops and bright yellow splashes of aconites in people’s gardens. They could see for miles across a rather stark landscape which Sophie knew would come alive as spring approached.

  There was so much to see and do in Rye that they were spoilt for choice. First they visited the pottery where Keir spent a long time examining the goods in the showroom.

  Sophie was fascinated by the exquisite Majolica figures of animals and birds and wondered if she’d ever aspire to making such things herself.

  When they eventually moved away Keir said, ‘Let’s have some lunch. I’m absolutely ravenous!’

  Over a fish lunch in a charming restaurant, housed in a building dating from the 1800s Keir said, ‘I really enjoy your company, Sophie, and I’d like to get to know you better.’

  ‘So, what do you want to know?’ she asked tentatively.

  ‘Everything. I really want to find out what makes you tick. Tell me about the times you spent in Penbridge when you stayed at Rowanbank.’

  They exchanged anecdotes about university days and holidays and she discovered Keir had a married sister and a mother living in Gloucestershire. By the time they’d finished coffee she realised they’d both skated round anything to do with past relationships.

  ‘So how did you come to meet Uncle Hugh?’ she asked casually.

  ‘Oh, at a pottery exhibition up in London. We got talking and after that we kept in touch.’

  She hazarded a guess. ‘Would I be right in thinking it was an exhibition of that potter’s work you both admired so much?’

  She could tell from the expression on his face that she was right.

  ‘Was that pure conjecture or did someone ... ?’

  Sophie shook her head. ‘I realise she obviously meant a lot to the pair of you. I saw the way you reacted over those candlesticks — remember?’

  He nodded and his brown eyes clouded. ‘I still find it difficult to talk about — the same as I’m aware there are things you’d prefer not to mention, such as your reason for leaving the school where Peter Standish used to be deputy head.’

  She lowered her gaze. ‘OK, I expect we all have our Achilles’ heel.’

  ‘They say time is a great healer so let’s hope they’re right,’ he said softly.

  Afterwards they sauntered hand in hand along Mermaid Street, a cobbled lane full of medieval buildings. They stopped to admire the famous Mermaid Inn.

  ‘I was reading that in the eighteenth century, this place used to be the headquarters of a famous band of smugglers called the Hawkhurst Gang,’ Keir informed her. ‘Now, what would you like to do next? It’s a bit cold to hang about, but we could take a look at the antique glass shop, just as a change from ceramics.’

  ‘Brilliant idea!’ she told him, as they wandered round the most amazing display of glassware she had ever seen in her life.

  ‘Once the craft centre is up and running, we’re going to need to keep our options open. Several of the units are allocated already and we’re only interested in fairly high class stuff. We hope to have an area to encourage talented youngsters to work and exhibit their creations.’

  ‘Was that Uncle Hugh’s idea too?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes, he was so enthusiastic. It’s one of the reasons I came to Penbridge.’

  Sophie wondered what the others were. There was so much about Keir she still needed to discover. ‘Penbridge is a lovely spot. Ever since I visited as a child, I’ve really loved it.’

  ‘I suppose you knew Rowanbank pretty well — all its nooks and crannies?’

  She smiled, remembering her childhood.

  ‘Oh, yes, my brother, myself and Crystal Briggs used to play hide and seek, but Crystal’s older sister —
Amy’s mum — thought she was too old to play with us.’

  ‘You’ll have to show me some photos sometime. I bet you were a cute little girl.’

  ‘I don’t know about that. Actually, I was a bit of an untidy tomboy, always climbing trees.’

  He chuckled.

  The light was fading as they began their homeward journey and she didn’t want the day to end. He said, ‘How about us rounding off the day over dinner?’

  Her heart pounded. ‘I’d love to do that, Keir. The only problem is, I’m not the slightest bit hungry.’

  He laughed. ‘Well, I am. I could eat for England! Tell you what, how about coming back to Rowanbank and we can have omelettes and salad. You can always phone Rose so that she knows you’ll be a bit late.’

  ‘Oh, she won’t mind. She’s going to see a film in the village hall with some friends from church — except I did arrange to run her down there for seven o’clock.’

  ‘Were you intending to join them?’ he asked.

  ‘Only if I hadn’t been doing anything else. Actually, I’ve seen the film before so I wasn’t that bothered.’

  ‘I’m flattered you’ve chosen me over a film,’ he teased. ‘Now, you transport Rose whilst I prepare a salad, by which time you might have worked up an appetite.’

  It was almost eight o’clock by the time Sophie arrived at Rowanbank. She’d considered changing into some-thing more dressy, but decided against it. She freshened up and put on a pretty jumper, and redid her hair and make-up.

  Keir came to the door with a tea-towel over his arm. ‘Madame, if I may take your coat, your table awaits.’

  Sophie laughed and allowed him to help her off with her coat, catching her breath as she felt his body close to hers.

  ‘I’ve just got the omelettes to make. There’s ham, cheese and mushroom for fillings.’

  ‘Sounds wonderful.’

  Keir ushered her into the dining room where the table was already set with an immaculate white cloth, gleaming cutlery and a candelabra. There was a wedding photograph of Hugh and Erica on the unit.

  Sophie had to admit that they looked blissfully happy and was surprised that Erica hadn’t taken the photograph with her. In the glass section of the unit were the pieces of pottery Keir had displayed at the exhibition in the village hall. She wondered again about the potter. She had obviously been a close friend of his — a girlfriend perhaps?