by Jenny Kane
‘Why?’
‘Because I can’t face carpentry tonight. Let’s cover over the gap to stop anything else getting in and worry about it tomorrow.’
Shaun smiled. ‘You fetch them. I’ll get the stepladder from the laundry room.’
The act of doing something helped calm Thea. With only a minor sense of guilt, as she drove staples into the Victorian wallpaper, reasoning with herself that things were not so bad, that a few microscopic holes in the wall weren’t going to make things worse, she soon had the gap covered with three layers of black plastic bags.
‘You were right,’ she called down to Shaun as he held the stepladder steady. ‘The pulley is almost completely frayed. Looks like it could have snapped at any time.’
‘Very inconsiderate of it to choose the middle of the night.’
Thea slammed one final staple into the bags to hold them taut. ‘Does that seem firm enough to you?’
‘Come down and I’ll look.’
‘Can’t you tell from there, save me going up and down?’
Shaun growled, ‘For God’s sake, Thea, it’s the middle of the night, you are wearing nothing but pyjamas and, as I may have mentioned, I fancy you something rotten, so don’t you dare ask me to look up at you from this angle or I may forget that I’m a gentleman!’
Thea scuttled down the ladder, half wishing she’d stayed where she was and told him to look anyway. ‘So, I’m down, what do you think?’
‘I think I should have got us a bottle of whiskey for emergencies.’ Shaun nodded at her handiwork with the staple gun and turned back to the table. ‘This is going to take a bit of thinking about.’
Thea wanted to close her eyes. Suddenly she felt beyond tired, but at the same time she knew there was no chance of sleep until she’d cleared up the debris from the vase. ‘I’ll get the dustpan and brush.’ She pointed at the shattered china.
‘Tell you what, I’ll get that swept up and sorted, and you put the kettle on. I left some decaf coffee in the kitchen. I could do with a hot drink.’
Too tired to argue, Thea headed to the kitchen, via the scullery, where she picked up the file containing information on all the items of value in the house. She knew the vase was in there, she just hoped that being knocked over by a bird was the sort of accident it was insured for.
Thea knew that the tears she’d been determined not to cry since she’d first seen the fallen vase were causing red rings to circle her heavy eyes.
Oh well, at least Shaun will have no trouble keeping his hands off me looking like this.
The coffee was made, poured and cooling fast before Shaun joined Thea.
‘What’s that?’
‘The artefact catalogue.’ She picked it up and flashed the relevant page at Shaun. ‘The vase is – was – a nineteenth-century Imari porcelain vase, of baluster form with flared neck, painted panels of figures and animals in landscape, on a brocade ground.’
‘Do I dare ask how much it was worth?’
‘Just over three thousand.’
‘Damn.’
‘Quite.’
‘Insured?’
‘Yes. Everything listed in this catalogue is covered, but I can’t say I’m looking forward to telling Malcolm that we need to make a claim.’ Thea cuddled her mug, as she read the additional notes about the piece. ‘It was a gift from Lord to Lady Upwich. Apparently she fell in love with the vibrant blues and reds.’ Thea sniffed as she lay down the book, ‘He must have loved her very much. There’s so much in this house that was brought here out of love and now it’s all falling apart and however hard I try, I don’t seem to be able to stop it disintegrating.’
Shaun’s arm was around Thea’s shoulders and she was buried into his side, sobbing her heart out, before she’d noticed what she was doing. ‘Oh God, I’m so sorry. This is pathetic.’
‘It is nothing of the sort. You came here to do a job under stressful circumstances. Not only have those circumstances followed you, but everything that can go wrong seems to have done just that.’
Shaun stroked his fingers over Thea’s hair, sending the same sensations of need shooting through her as when he’d de-cobwebbed her in the mill. She wanted to protest that she was ashamed of herself. That she should have been more professional, more businesslike, stronger, but no words would come out. She felt as if she was in delayed shock.
‘What you need to focus on is how much you’ve achieved. The manor is in a much stronger position than when you arrived. Hard decisions needed making, and you’ve made them. More such decisions are required and you’ll make the ones which will work best for the future of this place.’ He leant forward and kissed the top of her head.
Frustratingly chaste, the kiss still warmed Thea enough for her to wipe the tears from her eyes. Sitting up, she took a sip of coffee. ‘Forgive me, I’m overtired. By tomorrow I’ll have pulled myself together.’
‘I don’t doubt it.’ Shaun was regarding her with something very close to pride. ‘But for now, how about you cuddle back and rest.’
Not wanting to break the spell, Thea said nothing as she snuggled against his shoulder, inhaling the scent of maleness, Aran wool and the light fragrance of fabric conditioner.
‘Because nightjars are nocturnal, they’re usually only spotted at dawn or dusk when they’re hunting for food. Even then, you have to concentrate to spot them as they are well camouflaged. They’re a sort of grey-brown, mottled, streaked colour with barred plumage as well. In the past they were considered unlucky or even supernatural.’
‘Really? Why?’
‘They fly in silence.’
‘Unless they’re trapped under tables.’
‘Naturally.’ Shaun’s fingers teased another knot from the lower tresses of her hair. ‘They had a mythical ability to steal milk from goats, but I don’t know why.’
‘They live on the moors?’
‘Moors, heath-land, open woodland. Nowhere too enclosed, but with plenty of ground cover. I’ve never heard of one coming so close to a house.’
‘A lost nightjar.’
‘Possibly.’
‘I hope it’s alright.’
Shaun’s fingers stopped moving and he turned to look at her. ‘That’s it. Right there.’
‘What is where?’
‘The reason why I want to take you out for dinner tomorrow night, or should I say tonight.’
Thea rubbed her tired eyes. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘A bird gets in and causes thousands of pounds worth of damage, and you’re worried about the bird as much as the damage.’
‘It didn’t mean to come in. I bet it was terrified.’
Shaun smiled. ‘So, will you come out with me tonight?’
‘I’d like that. But not locally.’
‘Deal.’ Shaun drained the remains of his coffee. ‘Come on, we’re going to bed.’
‘Are we?’
‘We are.’
Twenty-Five
April 18th
Tina hadn’t opened her dedicated dating email inbox since the ill-fated evening with Leon. Guilt nudged her every time she remembered how she’d walked out of the restaurant without a word. If their roles had been reversed and he had walked out on her, she’d have been furious, hurt and confused. After a few days of quiet stewing, she’d probably have emailed him to ask what she’d done wrong.
She was also aware that there might be potential date requests waiting on Superior Singles for her response. Mr Right could be there, right now, in her inbox, being ignored because she was ashamed of her behaviour. Behaviour she didn’t understand. Leon had ticked every box she’d wanted ticking…and yet he’d made her feel inadequate.
Or did I do that to myself? Was it my insecurities that took me out of there, not him?
Turning her mobile phone over and over in her palm, Tina trailed a lacklustre spoon around her uneaten cereal and then threw the spoon down in frustration. ‘Get a grip, woman!’
Acting quickly in case she changed her min
d, Tina switched on her personal email, and scanned down a list of nineteen messages awaiting her attention. Eighteen of them were alerts from Superior Singles telling her that her profile had been viewed and associated messages, likes, winks and communication requests awaited her attention. The final one was from an incredibly optimistic Nigerian company, kindly enquiring if she’d like to benefit from the joys of penile extensions.
Fat chance.
There was nothing from Leon. Nothing at all.
‘Serves you right!’ Tina placed her phone face down on the table and abandoned the remaining cornflakes. ‘He clearly has more pride than you do. What did you think was going to happen? Did you think a man like Leon would be begging for an explanation or another chance? He’s probably already found a sophisticated blonde to massage his ego.’
Annoyed by the fact she was hurt by his lack of communication, when she knew he was not the man for her, Tina swept her bag onto her shoulder, grabbed her car keys and marched towards work.
*
Thea doused her eyes in cold water and stared into the age-spotted mirror. ‘Look at yourself woman! The chickens will take one peep out of their travel crate and demand to go back to the farm you’ve ordered them from!’
The previous night, when Shaun had said they were going to bed, she’d briefly thought he’d meant together. And she’d been willing to go. Wanted to go. In that moment nothing had felt as welcome as the idea of being curled up next to Shaun’s bulky frame. Thea hadn’t considered anything happening between them beyond sleep. Not consciously anyway. Too many shocks, too much fatigue, had crept in to want anything other than the comfortable arms of a man she realised she liked far more than she’d intended to.
In the cold half-light of the dimly illuminated bathroom, Thea could admit to herself that, if they had headed to the same bed, something else would have taken over, and the meagre hour of sleep she’d had before her alarm had woken her wouldn’t have existed.
Although I suspect I’d feel better than I do now.
The application of a layer of foundation seemed even more of a token gesture than usual. Only grouter’s putty would be able to disguise the dark shadows around her eyes and dull the yellow tinge to her complexion.
A vision of the smashed vase, scratched table and broken window pulley attempted to dislodge images of herself and Shaun in interesting states of undress from her mind. Leaning forward over the tiny servants’ sink, Thea closed her eyes. ‘This is not the time to be falling in love. Especially not with a man who could have his pick of the celebrity world… and then there’s John.’
The memory of agreeing to go out for a meal with Shaun warmed her for a while, until Thea saw how impractical it was. He wasn’t supposed to be there. How could they be seen out together? The whole thing was impossible.
Sweeping her hair into a ponytail, Thea returned her gaze to the mirror. ‘Today you are going to call Malcolm and tell him about the damage done by the nightjar. You are going to work out how to claim on the insurance. You are going to take delivery of six chickens. You are busy. There is no time to think about anything except what you are supposed to be doing. Restoring a manor and rescuing its mill. Nothing else. Nothing.’
*
Tina looked as horrified as Thea felt when they inspected the damage caused by the snapping of a single window pulley and a lost bird. In the early morning light, the scratch on the table was glaringly obvious and the space where the vase had once stood on its wooden plinth loomed large.
‘A bird did all this?’ Tina stared at the makeshift cover afforded by the black bags.
‘Can you imagine what would have happened if two or three had got in?’
‘Doesn’t bear thinking about.’ Tina sat on the nearest dining chair to the scratch. ‘At least it’s a clean mark. No side cracks. There’s a good chance a polisher could hide it and… Hang on, all this must mean Shaun knows you’re staying here.’
‘Yep.’ Thea wiped a hand over her forehead. ‘Thank God he was here. I’d never have coped on my own. From upstairs it sounded like a major burglary was in progress.’
Running a fingertip over the wounded table, Tina said, ‘I wonder if Derek or Bill knows of anyone who could see to this. They must have come across French polishers, considering their former thatching and carpentry occupations. They may even be able to do it themselves.’
‘It’s worth asking them and Mabel. She has a vast list of contacts for every occasion.’
‘The advantages of living in one place for so long I suppose.’ Tina opened her mobile. ‘I’d better take a photo of the damage to show Malcolm. Do you have the pieces of the vase?’
‘Shaun swept them up. I’m not sure where he left them and as I wasn’t officially here last night, I haven’t seen them yet. But, unofficially, if you’re hoping we can jigsaw the vase back together, then I can end that wishful thinking right now. It all but disintegrated.’
Tina tugged at her right pigtail. ‘And there I was thinking the biggest problems today were what we were going to do with the mill, settling in the chickens and deciding if I should unsubscribe from Superior Singles.’
‘Seriously? You’re going to stop chasing older men?’ A yawn overtook Thea.
‘I think so.’ Tina kept her eyes on the table. ‘Can we leave that conversation for now?’
Recognising the anxious expression on her friend’s face, Thea, vowing to broach the subject of Tina’s private life later, returned to business. ‘As soon as we’ve reported what’s happened to the trustees and worked out if we can fix the window ourselves, or if we’re going to have to spend more of our budget getting it sorted, then we’ll make a decision about the mill.’
‘Are you sure you don’t want to leave calling Malcolm to me?’ Tina studied her friend more closely. ‘No offence hun, but you look and sound dreadful. Your voice has gone all low and husky. Did you get any sleep at all?’
‘An hour about five til six this morning. Otherwise, none at all.’
Tina gestured to the window. ‘Not even before our uninvited visitor flew in?’
‘I felt so bad about not telling Shaun I was staying, that I couldn’t settle. Ironically, I kept worrying he’d hear me moving about and think I was an intruder.’
‘And it was nothing to do with the fact you two have the mutual hots for each other, and you were wishing he knew you were here so Shaun would come visiting?’
Bright red on the instant, Thea blustered, ‘We do not.’
‘Yeah right, whatever you say.’ Tina took her friend by the arm and led her towards the office. ‘Let’s get these phone calls sorted, and then we can face the day. You can convince me I’m better off being poor but happy, and I can convince you that you’re destined to have at least a short fling with a celebrity.’
Thea tried to smile, but the spectre of the phone call ahead stopped her lips curling in the right direction. ‘What if Malcolm says that’s it? That the extra expense of this new disaster is the final straw and he stops the restoration here and now.’
‘He won’t.’
‘You sound very sure.’
‘He’ll get more in a sale if the house is fully restored.’
Thea sighed. ‘I wish that didn’t make sense, but it does.’
‘At least it means you’ll be employed for as long as possible.’
‘I suppose so.’ Thea fiddled with her ponytail. ‘After that, who knows?’
‘Hopefully you’ll be managing this place as per the original plan.’ Tina’s hands came to her hips in a manner that reminded Thea of Mabel at her most decisive.
‘Until last night I was hanging onto that. Now, I can feel the whole thing slipping away.’
Unable to argue with Thea’s gloomy outlook, Tina waved her mobile. ‘I’m going to call Derek. He’s always up early to walk his dog. Let’s see if he can fix the window and the table, or knows someone who can. Then at least we can show Malcolm we’re already on the case when we tell him what’s happened.’
&
nbsp; ‘Thanks hun.’ Thea paused. ‘Hold on, what about Sam? I’d forgotten he was outside. His tent is pegged in the wood on the left side of the garden. He might know about windows.’
Tina agreed. ‘He might well do, but no way would you get him inside to take a look.’
‘But he wouldn’t have to come in. He could get a ladder from the outside.’
‘Do you think he’s up yet?’
‘Hun, it’s eight in the morning, I’d be very surprised if Sam hadn’t done an hour’s clearance in the garden already. The man is unstoppable.’
*
‘How about felting?’
‘Pardon?’ Tina dragged her gaze away from watching Derek pass tools to Sam, as he balanced on a ladder and contentedly got on with digging Mill Grange out of its latest pothole.
‘Felting. As one of the craft demonstrations in the mill if we open it up as an attraction alongside the manor?’
‘Oh yes. Good idea.’ Tina paused, ‘Did they have felting here?’
‘I have no idea, but it’s popular and it would fill a gap.’
Tina studied the rough plan of the mill building Thea had drawn. She’d divided it into three spaces, which could potentially be rented out by local crafts folk after the Open Day, but which would also have to provide some form of attraction on the day itself.
‘So, we’re saying spinning, weaving and felting?’
‘If we can find the spinners, weavers and felters to go with them. I wondered about asking Sybil in the tea rooms if she knew anyone that Mabel didn’t.’ Thea doodled a flower on the edge of her plan. ‘Or maybe we should admit defeat on this one. So much needs doing to make the mill usable. Right now, health and safety would close it before it was opened. I reckon it needs about three grand spending on it to make it even vaguely rentable.’
‘That’s not that much really and we’d make it back in rent money.’ Tina jotted some numbers onto her ever present notepad. ‘We need to air the place, whitewash the walls and get in some tables, chairs and work surfaces, cupboards and so on. Then we can invite some local craftspeople to take a look. Potentially we could charge a lot of rent for each section. It’s in a tourist village on Exmoor for goodness sake.’