by Jenny Kane
‘I have to carry on as if nothing has changed,’ Thea muttered under her breath as she examined the drying ornaments. There was no obvious damage, but she knew she’d have to waste time she didn’t have giving each piece a thorough inspection later. Inhaling deeply, she hoped Tina was having a productive and helpful phone call to the trustees.
Reaching the main door, she flung it open to let in some fresh, if rather cool, spring air in time to see Derek’s battered old Jaguar pull onto the drive.
Leaping from the car with his usual energy, Derek waved. ‘If you’re after Mabel, she’s in the stable. I saw her and Diane as I drove up.’
‘How did you know I was looking for Mabel?’
Derek grinned. ‘You wear a very particular expression when you’re searching for Mabel.’
‘Do I?’ Thea, suddenly very aware of all her facial muscles, put a hand to her cheek.
‘Sort of determined, but afraid.’ Derek shrugged. ‘Lots of people adopt the same posture with Mabel.’
‘I’m not the only coward in the village then?’
Laughing, Derek leant against his car, swapping his driving shoes for walking boots. ‘Far from it. Why else do you think she runs every club and society in Upwich? Her heart is pure gold, but everyone’s terrified of her.’
Unsure if she should feel better or worse about how she approached Mabel, Thea asked, ‘Any tips on how to get what I want from her, in the interests of saving the manor from a lifetime of smiling like a discarded crisp packet?’
Derek raised both his hands to the sky and winked. ‘Some secrets are destined never to be known.’
Thea couldn’t help smile. Derek, at a spritely seventy-two, had as much oomph as Tina. He reminded her of her much-missed grandfather. Thea found herself fighting an urge to give him a hug. ‘What’s your plan of attack for today?’
‘Taking a scythe to the patch of land that connects the scullery path to the old kitchen garden, boss. Then I’ll get a bonfire going. Sound okay?’
‘Sounds utterly perfect.’ Thea beamed. ‘Thanks, Derek. Actually, I don’t suppose you’d mind some help?’
‘Of course not. The more the merrier. Did you fancy a bit of fire setting then?’
‘Tempting, but I was thinking of the students who are coming to help. Three of them will be here this afternoon. I wasn’t sure where they should start, but helping you clear the pathway would be fantastic.’
‘I’d be delighted.’ Derek rubbed his hands together. ‘Better not let them near a scythe or a fire until they’ve signed some health and safety forms, though.’
‘Fear not.’ Thea gestured an arm in the vague direction of her office. ‘I have a pile of documentation all ready for them to sign their safety away.’
As Derek headed towards the old butler’s quarters, which was being used as a temporary garden equipment store, Thea thought she heard him whisper, ‘Good luck slaying the old dragon, my girl.’
The stable block was formed of three interconnected loose boxes which, once upon a time, had accommodated six horses. Two for pulling the family carriage, one for the servants’ cart, a palfrey for the lady of the manor and two hunting stallions. Now they held a mountain of broken furniture, empty-ish paint pots, trestle tables and fold-up chairs last used over thirty years ago when the village fete had annually pitched in the gardens, along with a mound of dried-out autumn leaves, cobwebs and evidence of mice.
In the midst of all this, Mabel and Diane gossiped, while sweeping as much of the blown- in foliage as they could reach with stiff brooms. Thea called out a welcome to announce her arrival, partly so she didn’t make them jump if they hadn’t heard her approach and partly because, if they’d been talking about her, she didn’t want to hear it.
‘Looks like you’re winning the battle over the spiders!’
Diane pulled a face. ‘I hope so.’
Taking her chance, Thea, hoping to appear approachable and not in any way cross, said, ‘I wanted to thank you for doing such a thorough job in the dining room. All the ornaments are drying nicely.’
Mabel’s shoulders visibly unclenched. But the sensation was short-lived as Thea added, ‘I just wondered if you’d mind not using so much vinegar in the solution next time. It isn’t very good for the ornaments and—’
‘I’ll have you know that I have it on good authority that is exactly how such things should be cleaned and…’
Mabel was getting into full flow when, against all the laws of nature, Thea’s mobile phone burst into life.
As Thea fumbled for her phone, Mabel growled, ‘You said your mobile didn’t work anywhere but the kitchen?’
‘I didn’t think it did.’ Thea snapped with rather more force than she’d meant to, as she connected the call. ‘Hello?’
The line crackled uncertainly, as if it had heard Mabel’s indignation and wasn’t sure whether it was allowed to connect properly or not. Thea was aware of a male voice speaking to her from the other end of the call, but she couldn’t make it out. ‘Hello, I’m terribly sorry, this is rather a bad line. Would you mind repeating that please?’
After a hiss and crackle the line cleared and a rich caramel voice that sounded vaguely familiar said, ‘Is that better? Signal is shocking here. Is that Thea Thomas?’
‘It is. I’m sorry, I missed your name. Are you calling about volunteering at Mill Grange?’
‘I am. It sounds fantastic. The way you brought the place to life on television was wonderful. Tell me, have you done much television work?’
Surprised by the question, Thea said, ‘None at all.’
‘Well you should do more, you’re a natural.’
A blush started to form across Thea’s cheeks. ‘That’s very kind of you, Mr…’
‘Cowlson. Shaun Cowlson.’
‘Shaun Cowlson?’
Thea regretted saying his name aloud as soon as she heard Mabel’s voice behind her gasping out, ‘The Shaun Cowlson? Off the television?’
Closing her eyes, Thea found herself temporarily speechless as her mind raced back to a conference she’d attended a year after finishing university. She’d been there giving a talk on behalf of Bath Museum Services on Romano-British fort construction and location. Shaun Cowlson had been the keynote speaker on the same day. He’d asked a colleague of hers out on a date.
Aware that Shaun was still talking, Thea drew her attention back to the conversation, trying to ignore Mabel, who’d stepped nearer, presumably in the hope of eavesdropping.
‘We met a few years ago, but I don’t expect you to remember.’
Thea’s free hand dug into the warmth of her coat pocket. ‘I remember. We both spoke at the same conference.’ Not wanting to go off down memory lane with a man who’d broken her friend’s heart, Thea got to the point. ‘So, how can I help you?’
‘I’m in the area for a while and I’d like to help at Mill Grange. I’m pretty sure I’m qualified.’
Ignoring the teasing tone in his voice, and dropping to a whisper in the hope that Mabel and Diane wouldn’t hear, Thea muttered, ‘But why? Surely we’re a bit out of your time range. Isn’t there an archaeological excavation you’re supposed to be recording your show from?’
Shaun’s declaration that he was between projects was overshadowed by Mabel’s cry. ‘If that man is offering to help us, then snap his hand off, girl! A TV celebrity on the volunteer list would really put Mill Grange on the map.’
Walking away from the stables to leave Diane and Mabel cooing over how much they loved Shaun’s television show, Landscape Treasures, and how if they were thirty years younger they’d be setting their caps at him, Thea gave a mental groan. She hated to admit that they were right. Frankly, if they were going to pull off a miracle and get Mill Grange open to the public, they needed all the help they could get.
While Shaun was explaining that the latest episode of his show, based in nearby Devon, had been subject to a scheduling change, hence his freedom for the next few weeks, Mabel tapped on Thea’s shoulder.
Swinging round, she was confronted with a disconcertingly excited Mabel holding up her ever-present clipboard. On it she had scribbled in capital letters, ‘ASK HIM TO OPEN THE MANOR IN AUGUST.’
*
Mabel and Diane trailed Thea back to the kitchen. They didn’t stop asking questions the whole way.
‘Was that really Shaun Cowlson?’
‘Is he coming here?’
‘When’s he arriving? I ought to get a haircut before then?’
Thea’s eyebrows rose up her forehead as Diane added, ‘So should you, Thea dear. He’s single, you know, and quite a catch.’
She was spared from responding when Mabel spoke up. ‘Don’t be ridiculous Diane, the man could have anyone he liked.’ Thea bit her tongue at this implied slight. A slight that Mabel instantly trumped with an accusation of job negligence.
‘Did I hear you say you’d spoken at the same conference as him? You didn’t let on you knew famous people. You should have roped him in the minute you got here if he’s a friend. Anything and everything to get the house reopened – isn’t that what you said?’
Reaching the kitchen, Thea waved at Tina to leave the pile of paperwork she was doing at the end of the table, to come and join them. ‘Sorry to disturb your account checking. We have just had an interesting call.’
‘Interesting! Is that all you can say?’ Mabel was incredulous. ‘It’s a gift from God. I don’t understand why you didn’t bite his hand off and have him here within the hour!’
No, you wouldn’t, you stupid old bat. That man hurt my friend, Becky, badly. His history with women alone is enough for me to want to keep him away from me, and more specifically Tina. My friend is vulnerable when it comes to wealthy older men – not that I expect you’d ever understand that!
As these thoughts swam around Thea’s head, she turned to Tina. ‘Do you remember the first conference I attended as a speaker, not long after I joined the team in Bath?’
‘I do. You were excellent.’
‘Thank you.’ Thea brushed the compliment away. ‘And you remember that Shaun Cowlson was the keynote guest?’
‘Ah, yes.’
Grateful for Tina not elaborating on the memory, but picking up from her tone that she too recalled Becky Gibson’s post-relationship reports about her time with Shaun, Thea explained the situation.
Once the contents of the phone call had been relayed, Tina poured everyone coffee. ‘He would bring in interest. Extra volunteers would come here just so they could meet Shaun and get an autograph. Landscape Treasures is very popular.’
This statement met with fervent agreement from Diane and Mabel, who simultaneously straightened their aprons, as if expecting their archaeological hero to walk in there and then.
Thea doodled a flower against the corner of her notebook. ‘You agree then, Tina, that he would be an asset and we should ask him to cut the ribbon for us on Open Day?’
‘I do. Although, I’m less sure he should work here before then. If he did, it would have less impact to have him here to launch Mill Grange as a heritage centre. Better maybe, if he helps while keeping out of the public eye if he wants to. Then he can appear during Open Day as a fresh face. What do you think?’
Rather than protest as Thea had expected, Mabel seemed to like this idea even more. ‘You mean us original volunteers would get him here, all to ourselves?’
For one mad second Thea thought she could see the old woman’s mouth watering. ‘I’m not sure we could pull that off. It is a good idea, but he’s six foot four. That’s a big man to hide, and word is bound to leak out. And, let’s not overlook the fact that Shaun might not like that idea. Remember, I haven’t even mentioned Open Day to him yet.’
Two shrill female voices rang across the room. ‘Then ask him!’
Eight
April 8th
It had been a relief to turn her attention to the group of students from Exeter University, who’d arrived for a tour of the house and grounds before their health and safety checks.
For a moment Thea had been worried that they wouldn’t want to wade around in the damp chill of the garden with Derek, but her fears were unfounded. The chance to engage in some physical, messy and non-academic industry was welcomed by three lads eagerly pulling on wellington boots.
As she’d hoped, Derek was fantastic with them. Within minutes they were pulling up brambles and weeds while sharing risqué jokes and life histories.
‘That man’s a godsend.’ Thea sank onto her rickety desk chair and pulled her laptop closer.
‘Derek?’ Tina smiled. ‘He’s one of the good guys. Used to be a master craftsman. I imagine he’s always been good with his hands.’
‘Tina!’ Thea couldn’t help but laugh as her friend winked at her. ‘He’s old enough to be your granddad.’
‘I was merely appreciating our luck at having such a skilled man on site.’
‘Yeah. Right.’ Logging onto her emails with her habitual sense of trepidation stirring in her gut, Thea said, ‘What sort of craftsman?’
‘A thatcher.’
‘Wow. That is a craftsman. No wonder he’s so good with people.’
‘What do you mean? Thatching must be a lonely job.’
‘Possibly, but you would never employ a thatcher you didn’t trust. And it’s a long job – you’d have to get on with the residents of whichever property you were re-roofing for weeks, if not months, at a time.’
‘That would explain his patience.’ Tina picked up a piece of paper and waved it across the desk. ‘There was a call while you were out. A Sam Philips. Said you were expecting him for his volunteer induction at two o’clock. His train has been delayed, so it’ll be nearer three.’
‘No problem.’ Thea scanned her email inbox through narrowed eyes, as if not looking properly would ensure she didn’t see the name she dreaded seeing. It wasn’t there. Perhaps John had missed the broadcast after all.
‘I got hold of the trustees.’
‘Ah.’ Thea looked up. ‘I was putting off asking you about that.’
‘Basically, I don’t think we need to worry. Money is going to be tight and the timing is going to be tighter, but as you and I thrive on impossible situations we will win this. Mill Grange will open on time and it will be amazing.’
‘Since when did we like impossible situations?’
Tina laughed. ‘We’re British, darling. “Spirit of the Blitz”, “Never Say Die” and all that.’
Not feeling full of the derring-do Tina was expounding, Thea regarded her friend shrewdly. ‘But will it be sold anyway?’
Tina tipped up her chin. ‘Not while I live and breathe!’
*
Thea was standing in the doorway to the butler’s pantry, wondering if they had enough garden equipment to supply the growing taskforce, when a taxi pulled up.
She hadn’t asked people to declare their age when they applied to be volunteers, so she’d assumed Sam Philips would be over sixty-five. As he climbed from the cab she found herself staring. He clearly wasn’t a retired gentleman. Far from it.
Suspecting she was gawping like a goldfish, Thea snapped her lips closed and headed towards the taxi. ‘Mr Philips?’
‘Sam.’
‘I’m Thea. Pleased to meet you.’
As he turned around, Thea realised he was probably older than she’d initially guessed. Her assumption on seeing his short but decidedly muscular frame in garden-worn jeans and a fisherman’s jumper with a ponytail tucked safely between that and his back, had been that this was a man in his early twenties. Now she saw his life-worn face, Thea added another ten years.
Sam hooked a large backpack onto his shoulder and looked at the manor. ‘It’s as beautiful as it looked on the television.’
‘Thank you.’ Thea felt the heat of the newcomer’s eyes flick from her, to the house, and back again. ‘Would you like to look around?’
There was the briefest hesitation, before Sam replied, ‘Just outside, if that’s okay with you.�
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‘I’m happy for all help, inside or outside, but don’t you want to leave your things indoors? You can lock them in the old scullery. It’s doubling as my office for now.’
‘You are very kind, but I’ll stick my bag in there, if that’s alright.’ He gestured to the pile of forks and spades lying on the floor outside the pantry. ‘I’m guessing that’s acting as a shed?’
‘It is.’ Wrong-footed, but sensing she shouldn’t ask too many personal questions, Thea said, ‘Let’s explore the grounds. They are even more stunning than the house, in a way.’
*
Tina hung up the phone with a sense of satisfaction. While she hadn’t managed to magic any additional time or money, she had persuaded her employers that, if they were going to have any chance of getting Mill Grange open on time, then she would be better off forgoing her usual circuit of their properties for a few weeks and mucking in at Mill Grange full time. She’d also, to her personal relief, been told her job was funded separately to Thea’s, and was secure.
Feeling a little guilty that her livelihood was safe when Thea’s wasn’t, Tina glanced out of the little office in the kitchen garden. She was about to call out to Thea, when the latest volunteer came into view.
‘Whoa!’ Tina watched as Sam Philips smiled at Thea as he bent down and pointed something out to her. Her friend looked radiant in the company of the newcomer.
‘Not a pensioner then.’ Tina caught herself preening her hair from her eyes, and then sharply told herself off. ‘Don’t be arrogant, woman! Just because a man who isn’t old enough to be your grandfather has arrived on the premises, it doesn’t mean he’d be interested in you. Anyway…’ She took in his tatty clothes and slightly lopsided walk. ‘He has a ponytail and is way too scruffy.’
Realising she was still staring at the newcomer, a contrary voice at the back of her told Tina that, while she hated long hair on men, his face sported the perfect amount of stubble. He was probably scruffy because he’d come to dig the garden. Forcing her eyes to her desk, Tina was surprised to find her pulse racing.