Midsummer Dreams at Mill Grange

by Jenny Kane

  ‘What do you mean I don’t need a makeover? Look at me!’ Thea ran her hands over her face. ‘I’m a mess, and yet John still—’

  ‘Ahhh…’ Tina suddenly understood, or thought she did. ‘You haven’t been bothering in the hope that John would be put off, and you’ve got into the habit of not bothering. That makes sense.’

  ‘I haven’t bothered because it never crosses my mind to bother. Of course, now I’m wondering if I should put a bag over my face and invest in some cotton gloves.’

  ‘Don’t be daft. You know I didn’t mean anything like that. I’m saying you’d feel more confident if you made an effort sometimes.’

  Thea groaned. ‘And I’d look better in front of the television cameras. I really don’t think I can do it, Tina. Are you sure I can’t persuade you to step in? You’re used to talking to strangers. These days I’m more comfortable talking to broken pots, bits of brick and the spiders whose cobwebs I dust away.’

  Tina pushed Thea’s wine glass closer to her friend’s hand. ‘John might not watch the local news. Chances are slim if you think about it.’

  ‘He’ll see it.’

  ‘Why so sure?’

  ‘John thinks it’s everyone’s duty to keep abreast of the news. Local and national, and sadly, as Somerset encompasses Bath these days, he’ll get the same news as us.’

  ‘Oh.’ Tina’s forehead creased into furrows. ‘I’m beginning to feel grateful I never met him. Hang on, why didn’t I meet him?’

  ‘Largely because you were busy here, and then you had that two-month sabbatical in Tuscany.’

  ‘So I did.’ Tina beamed. ‘Tuscany, land of Roman remains, excellent red wine and a very attractive waiter called Ethan.’

  ‘Ethan? Hardly Italian?’

  ‘Scottish, darling… very much so. Son of some Lord or other in the Highlands.’

  Thea laughed. ‘If you say so.’

  Reluctantly dragging her mind from her Scottish-Italian encounter, Tina returned to the matter in hand. ‘John finding you via Facebook bothers me a bit.’

  ‘Yeah. I know what you mean. Me too.’ Thea stared at her glass. ‘After that first time, he kept popping up in Bath to ask me out. Each time I said no, I felt sorrier for him.’

  ‘Maybe he was trying to wear you down until your patience snapped, and you took him back.’ Tina dabbed some cake crumbs up with her finger. ‘I wondered why you wanted this job so badly. It is several centuries away from your historical period of passion.’

  ‘To be honest, he was merely the catalyst. I fancied a fresh challenge. Although I loved my job at the Baths, I wasn’t meeting new people.’

  ‘Men, you mean?’

  ‘People in general; but I wouldn’t say no to the chance to meet a decent bloke. Wouldn’t you like someone to come home to sometimes?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Remembering the queue of chaps interested in you in Durham, I wouldn’t have said you’d have problems finding one.’

  ‘Finding one isn’t a problem; finding the right one, on the other hand…’

  ‘And your version of “the one” is still someone with a castle and a unicorn?’

  Tina laughed. ‘If you mean someone older and more experienced than me, with a bit of money in the bank, then yes.’

  Thea’s eyebrows rose. ‘That matters to you? The money I mean?’

  ‘Too right. My last two boyfriends were nice enough, but we hardly did anything or went anywhere as we never had enough cash. I’m tired of making do.’

  ‘Your job’s not that badly paid, is it?’

  ‘It’s not a disaster, but my rent is high and it costs forty quid in petrol to get from home to here – or wherever else I’m sent – each week. Even with the Trust’s token gesture towards mileage allowance it costs a fortune to run my car. Then there’s food and clothes and…’

  ‘I get it. You’re expensive and high-maintenance!’

  Tina stuck her tongue out. ‘Pretty much.’

  ‘All this makes no difference though. I came here to restore this house and meet new people. So far, all I’ve met is a load of pensioners and a wall of silence. After making a breakthrough tonight, it would be churlish to refuse Mabel’s offer of a television interview. Especially as it’s an excellent idea.’ Thea could feel the alcohol soothing her insides. ‘Maybe I can sweet-talk Mabel into doing the broadcast, or perhaps I could bribe you into doing it after all? I’ll buy you all the wine and chocolate you could ever want.’

  ‘Stop right there! You’re doing it. You’re the face of Mill Grange now. Anyway, I’d go to pieces.’

  ‘You wouldn’t.’

  ‘I hate large-scale public speaking and stuff. It’s very different to having a conversation with a landlord about an abandoned cottage or whatever. You’ve done it loads, at meetings and conferences and stuff.’

  ‘True, but not for ages and I don’t like doing it. I’m much better off chatting to the spiders. I’m a ball of nervous tension the whole time I’m addressing more than two people at once. It’s terrifying.’

  ‘You’re still good at it though.’

  ‘Maybe.’ Thea pushed a stray hair from her cheek. ‘Anyway, I haven’t got much choice if we want to keep things smoothed over with Mabel, have I?’

  ‘Don’t worry, these things take ages to arrange. It may never even happen.’

  Thea pushed herself to her feet. ‘Come on, let’s clear up or you’ll never get home tonight.’

  ‘Talking of home, where did you find lodgings in the end? Did they have room at the pub in the village?’

  Thea had almost told Tina on a few occasions that she was sleeping on the job, but they’d never been out of earshot of other people for long enough. ‘Well, actually I’m staying—’

  The high-pitched bell of Thea’s mobile phone echoed through the kitchen.

  ‘Oh my God!’ Tina jumped off her chair in surprise at the shrill sound in the otherwise silent house. ‘How come you have a signal? This is a dead zone for most phones.’

  ‘I only get a phone signal in here, nowhere else.’ Thea looked at the number. ‘It’s Mabel. You don’t think…’

  ‘Answer it!’

  *

  Thea managed to contain her nerves until Tina had gone. Promising her friend she’d be leaving to find her bed very soon, which wasn’t exactly a lie, Thea locked all the doors.

  Adopting her nightly routine of telling herself the house absolutely was not haunted, as she walked up the ill-lit servants’ stairways and along the deadly quiet corridors to the attic, Thea dropped onto her bed. Thanks to Mabel’s vast supply of useful connections, Thea was to expect a small television crew to arrive at the manor in two days’ time. She felt her palms start to sweat. The only saving grace was that it was to be a pre-recorded interview and not a live one.

  ‘John won’t see it,’ Thea told the crack in the ceiling plaster. ‘It will be a tiny feature at the end of the news. He will have got all the depressing information of the day he desires and have switched the TV off before the “and finally” bit. And, even if he does see it, he’s only just started a new job, so won’t be able to take time off.

  I hope.’

  Five

  April 5th

  Turning over, Thea punched her pillow and checked the time. It was five o’clock in the morning. She couldn’t have had more than an hour’s sleep for worrying about being seen on television by John. The spectre of that one person witnessing her first ever broadcast far outweighed any natural nerves she may have had about appearing on screen in the first place.

  Giving up on sleep, Thea hauled herself out of bed and pulled on yesterday’s clothes. She needed a plan, a way to persuade Tina that she couldn’t appear before the cameras – one that was more convincing than her fear of John seeing her. And that meant she needed coffee and fresh air.

  *

  The dew-soaked grass seeped moisture across her trainers’ toes at record speed, but Thea ignored the sensation as she surveyed the scene be
fore her. The vista across the gardens and down into the woodland beyond deserved to appear on television. ‘But not with me stood next to it!’

  Sitting on a bench, making a mental note to add ‘sand and paint benches’ to her to-do list, Thea sighed. It all came down to persuading Tina that, as the Exmoor Trust’s representative, she’d be much better off representing Mill Grange.

  ‘The Trust!’ Thea felt the stirrings of an idea nudge at her brain, but it would involve a little underhand persuading.

  Thea addressed a pheasant that was having an early morning stroll across the lawn. ‘Tina will forgive me – eventually. And she knows how worried I am about John seeing me on the local news. After all, I’d do it for her if our places were reversed.’

  Thea swallowed back an attack of guilt and got to her feet. If she got started now on writing out how her conversation with Malcolm at the trust office might go, then by the time he got to work, she’d be ready to turn on the charm – or at least try to.

  *

  ‘Me and Mabel?’

  ‘That’s what Malcolm Ware said, and as he’s the head trustee I didn’t like to argue.’ Thea was struggling to disguise her relief at not having to risk the discovery of her newfound hidey-hole. ‘He was thrilled with Mabel’s idea for getting Mill Grange on the television. But rather than me take the helm, he wants to flag up the Trust’s role in the proceedings by having you front the interview. Then he suggested that Mabel should be on hand in case they want her to chat about what future volunteers could expect to do.’

  Tina looked as sceptical as she sounded. ‘Are you sure you didn’t persuade Malcolm that’s what he wanted?’

  ‘All I said was that Mabel had got us a slot on the local news, and how it was an excellent opportunity to put the work the Trust is doing in the local area on the map.’

  ‘So you did steer him into choosing me to do it!’

  Thea blushed. ‘Well, maybe a little bit, but you know I can’t do it Tina. I’ve worked so hard to go off-grid, if John sees it he might come here to help, and it’d all have been for nothing.’ She passed a consoling cup of coffee in her friend’s direction. ‘I swear I didn’t have to say anything to Malcolm about how I thought you’d be the perfect face of Mill Grange.’

  ‘But you would have if he hadn’t got in first.’ Tina anxiously twirled her pigtails.

  ‘Maybe.’ Thea confessed. ‘Look, I’m sorry I landed you in it, but as Malcolm never even hinted at me doing it, he clearly expected you to be the one to front the report anyway.’

  ‘Possibly.’ Tina took a sip of her extra strong coffee. ‘Have you told Mabel yet?’

  ‘I have. She repeated her claim that someone younger and prettier should be there with you, before accepting the situation without a fight and booking a haircut.’

  Tina laughed despite herself. ‘Alright, you win on this one, but if they ask Mabel who is in charge of the restoration and she gives out your name, you’ll be no better off, will you?’

  ‘Oh God, I hadn’t thought of that. She wouldn’t, would she?’

  ‘Not unless she’s asked to, but there’s a good chance the question will come up. I don’t mind saying that I’m in charge on behalf of the trust, but Mabel’s a law unto herself. If you want to make sure your name isn’t mentioned, then you’re either going to have to tell her about John, or you’ll have to come up with a damn good reason why not.’

  *

  April 6th

  ‘They just called. They’ll be here in an hour.’ Mabel patted her new coiffure as she arrived in front of Thea’s desk.

  ‘An hour?’ Thea checked the clock at the corner of her laptop screen as her stomach did a backflip. ‘Right, so that’ll be about two o’clock. Have you told Tina?’

  ‘I came straight here. I’ll go and track her down now.’

  ‘I’ll come with you. She said something about wanting to check if a safety rail would be needed between the garden and the steeper parts of the drop into the wood.’

  Having spent the last twenty-four hours trying to think of ways to ask Mabel not to mention her name on air, and having come up with nothing that didn’t sound false, Thea was about to ask Mabel to only give out trust details and not her name, when she saw Tina dashing towards them.

  ‘I have to go!’

  ‘What? Why?’ Thea felt her stomach turn to jelly as Tina came to an abrupt halt.

  ‘A text just came through from my housemate. God knows when she actually sent it. The house could be ankle deep in water by now what with the crap signal round here.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘A burst pipe. Apparently our kitchen resembles a pond. I’m really sorry, I must go.’

  ‘But…’

  Tina kept marching towards her car with Thea and Mabel hot on her heels. ‘But what?’

  ‘The television people are on their way. They’ll be here in under an hour.’

  Tina’s hand came to her mouth, ‘Oh my God, in my panic about the house, I totally forgot. I’m really sorry Thea, but you’ll have to do it. I have to go home.’

  ‘Of course you must!’ Mabel cut in before Thea could suggest she went to dry out her friend’s kitchen instead. ‘Thea and I will be just fine. Now off you pop.’

  Having virtually shooed Tina away, Mabel turned to Thea and gave her a critical stare. ‘If you hurry you’ll have time to go grab a shower and change into something presentable. Off you go! This is for Mill Grange, remember!’

  *

  Cursing fate and dodgy plumbing with every step she took, Thea ran up the manor’s back staircase. With Tina’s words about her less-than-well-kempt appearance echoing in her ears, Thea risked a glance in the ancient bathroom mirror. It had been just over two weeks since she’d started working at Mill Grange. Eighteen days of using mirrors which were spotted with age and clouded with years of neglect. Hardly reliable indicators of one’s appearance. Thea rather liked them.

  Now she was being forced to peer beyond the clouded parts of the glass, she saw just how much of a bird’s nest her hair had become, and how huge the bags under her eyes were. Neglect felt like a word she could apply to herself, along with the manor’s mirrors.

  The lack of an iron at Mill Grange also meant she’d had to (semi) un-crease her only shirt and smart black trousers by hand. Although her outfit had served her well for years, now that she examined it properly, Thea saw how the black suit material had taken on a washed-out grey tinge, and the white blouse was thinning in places.

  Crossing her fingers and hoping that the crew would bring a makeup artist with them – and that they wouldn’t take one look at her inexpertly applied foundation and despair – Thea left the bathroom with a resigned groan.

  All the time she’d been washing and changing, Thea had fought to keep the spectre of John at the back of her mind. If that was going to remain the case, she needed to keep busy right up until the television people arrived. After wasting ten minutes guessing what sort of questions they’d ask her, Thea had reached the point where she feared she’d forget her name and the reason she was at Mill Grange as soon as the camera rolled, when a knock on her bedroom door broke through her nerves.

  A buoyant Mabel was virtually hopping from one foot to the other in excitement. ‘They’re early! Come on, Miss Thomas, it’s time to show off Mill Grange.’

  *

  Mabel picked up the television remote control and pressed the off button. Pulling the notebook she used exclusively for her WI committee work towards her, she switched her attention from the local news to the allocation of seats in the coach she’d hired for an outing to Buckingham Palace.

  ‘What you up to, love?’ Bert lay down his newspaper and watched as his wife attacked her latest project.

  ‘Making a seating plan for the trip to London.’

  Bert chuckled. ‘You can’t tell people where they’re allowed to sit on a bus.’

  ‘I can and I will.’ Mabel wrote a few more names on her seating plan. ‘Anything to stop
a repeat of Mrs Paxton’s wind ripping from the front of the coach to the back, and gassing us all in the process. If I sit her on the wheel at the back, the noise will be disguised and the air conditioning will limit the damage.’

  ‘Won’t she fart more due to the juddering of the wheel beneath her butt?’

  ‘Oh, go and play one of your silly games!’ Mabel gave her husband a stern look, before switching her attention back to her plan.

  Chuckling, Bert picked up his tablet. ‘I wish the grandkids hadn’t introduced me to Tetris. Bloody addictive!’

  ‘Bert! Language!’

  Rolling his eyes, Bert Hastings eased himself from his chair and joined Mabel at the tiny table that was squashed against the living room’s far wall. ‘Come on, love, enough work for one day.’

  ‘Maybe.’ Mabel picked up the remote control and aimed it at the television. ‘I just want to watch the news again in case…’

  Bert gently prised the remote from his wife’s fingers. ‘It won’t be on again tonight. Thea did a good job. You know she did. You should be pleased; it was your idea after all.’

  ‘She did Mill Grange proud.’

  ‘But?’

  ‘She comes in without so much as a by-your-leave and…’

  ‘And you feel sidelined because they didn’t have time to interview you as well, and after all your years of hard work someone else has arrived at the last minute to steal your glory.’

  ‘Bert! It’s not about glory, it’s about—’

  ‘Mabel, my girl, I’ve loved you since the moment I laid eyes on you fifty-six years ago. As a result I know when you’re disappointed and put out. In this case I can see why. It’s a real shame you didn’t get a go in front of the cameras, but I’ve met Thea; she’s a good kid with a job to do. Why don’t you let her take the strain? It isn’t as if you haven’t got your plate full.’ Bert gestured to the pile of labelled box files on the table. One for each of the seven committees his wife ran.