by Katie Ginger
Over the last few weeks their relationship had become, at times, awkward. The whole beard-stroking incident had made John wary that Jaz was getting a little too fond of him. It wasn’t that he thought himself a catch and that it was only natural she should fancy him, quite the opposite in fact. He didn’t have much to offer anyone. But there’d been moments recently when she’d been what he considered over-friendly, even flirty. In order to keep their relationship strictly business, he’d overcompensate and bark out orders, being too harsh. Now John was worried he’d made Jaz so unhappy she was going to leave.
A few nights ago, he’d had a strange dream in which the ceiling of the study collapsed, pouring in a flood of paperwork and he’d drowned, unable to swim through it to the door. His subconscious was clearly telling him something. He’d woken shivering in the breeze from the open window and felt the light sheen of sweat dry on his torso. Normally, John would have ignored a dream like that, but the next morning he’d convinced himself it was caused by the worry that his and Jaz’s steady, business-like relationship was changing, and that she might not stick around if he kept being grumpy. He’d really come to value her and her skills and was determined to get her something as a thank-you for all her hard work, not to mention her dedication to him and his family. He just needed to figure out what.
Jaz once again adjusted her grip on the diary and notepad in her hands. ‘You’ve been dreading this weekend, haven’t you?’ John repressed the urge to correct her.
‘I wouldn’t say dreading it. It’ll be different, that’s all. And it could make us some real money. That hole in the east wing roof really needs fixing before winter. And though I’ve requested a loan from the bank, they’re taking their time to decide.’ He glanced back at the house over his shoulder.
‘Not to mention that we need to fix the landing ceiling,’ she teased.
‘Yeah, that too.’ He grinned. ‘It’s Mother who’s my main worry this weekend.’
‘I’ll make sure she’s fine. No one should be coming up to the house. And as long as she sticks to the grounds, she won’t come across anyone. I’ll keep an eye out for any wanderers.’ From the corner of his eye he saw her turn towards him.
‘Are you sure about working this weekend?’ Jaz had kindly volunteered to help with any food festival problems. He really didn’t deserve her. ‘You really don’t have to. I don’t expect you to be here.’
‘I know I’m paid out of Thornhill Antiques, but I’m your assistant.’ She met his gaze and gave him an easy smile. She really deserved much more patience than he’d shown her recently. ‘If you want me here to help, I’m happy to come. Besides, I was going to book a long holiday to Mexico when things slow down and I need the extra days of leave.’
John chuckled. ‘Just mark the dates in the diary. Whenever you want time off is fine. I’m sure I’ll manage while you’re away. I’ll just leave everything in a big pile until you get back.’ Her mouth fell open in surprise and she giggled.
John’s phone rang in his pocket and he fished it out, scanning the horizon again. In the lower field he caught sight of the statuesque figure of Hetty Colman striding about in bright blue trainers, rather than purple-spotted Wellington boots. She was only wearing jeans and a long T-shirt but with her short-cropped hair and glasses she looked cute. He hadn’t thought about romance in a long time. His heart had been too closed off with his own business and then his family’s worries. But Hetty entered his thoughts with increasing regularity. The shrill ringing brought him back to reality and he saw it was Felix. For some reason he glanced back at the house again. Felix should have been at work.
‘Hey, Felix, everything okay?’
‘John, are you in the grounds?’ Felix’s blunt and to-the-point sentences were so much like John’s own, that it irritated him when he heard them, probably because it reminded him of his own failings. This time there was a different edge to Felix’s voice, something more – John braced his jaw.
John scanned the windows for Felix but couldn’t see him. ‘I was watching them set up the food festival. Why?’
‘Can you see Father?’
John hadn’t seen him all morning. As usual he’d pecked at some breakfast placed in front of him by Lucinda, and then disappeared into the grounds. John was beginning to think it was time they called a doctor. They’d always assumed his father’s problems were brought on by stress and worry, but now John was beginning to wonder if it was medical. The thought there might be something wrong with his father’s brain made him feel sick. Even worse was the thought they had ignored it for so long. And if it was more a psychological problem, maybe therapy would help. His mother wouldn’t want to face either possibility, and John had decided to wait until after the festival to mention it. If he did it now, she’d have a panic attack. She’d been steadfast for a long time, but the strain was beginning to show. John checked around again for sight of his father. ‘Umm, no, he’s not out this way. He’s probably in the secret garden.’
‘Get him and bring him into the house, will you? I need to talk to you all.’
‘Why? What’s happened?’
‘Just get him, will you?’ Felix was growing bossier and ruder by the day. He’d always had a tendency to take over, but it was getting worse. Right now, his voice was so much the authoritative big brother, John had to bite the inside of his cheek to let it slide. ‘I’ll speak to you all together.’
‘Okay. Fine.’ John scowled at his phone and placed it back in his pocket. This was all very odd. Felix should have been at work and he sounded tense. Maybe another bill had come in that John hadn’t seen, or perhaps Felix had received a call about one of the final demands. Whatever it was, John needed to find his father and meet them inside.
‘Everything okay?’ asked Jaz.
‘Not sure.’ He paused for a moment and peered around.
‘That was Felix, wasn’t it?’ Seeing John’s concerned gaze, she moved beside him and laid a hand gently on his forearm. ‘Are you sure there’s nothing I can do?’
Her touch was like a static shock, triggering a warning in his brain again. ‘It’s fine,’ he barked and as Jaz virtually jumped back, he knew he’d overreacted again. ‘Have you seen Father this morning?’
Jaz shook her head. ‘Do you want me to look for him?’
‘No, I think I know where he is. Can you get some draft responses done to those queries we talked about yesterday and I’ll check them later? It’d be good to get those off the to-do list today before the madness descends.’ She nodded making a note on her pad. ‘I’ll find us something nice for lunch as a thank-you.’ Jaz’s eyes lit up.
Things would be back to normal between them soon enough, he reassured himself as he strode off to the back of the house and the secret garden. He just needed to let her know how valued she was and stop snapping at her all the time.
Walking back through the formal gardens, John noticed how messy they were becoming. The topiary animals were more like Doctor Who monsters, and the grass needed a cut. Last year, his father had become so upset about the state of the tall privet hedges John had agreed to hire someone in for a couple of days to straighten them up. He should have seen that as a warning sign that his father needed help. He expelled a deep breath, hoping to exorcise some of the guilt with it.
As he came to the front of the house, John glanced up and took a moment to appreciate its beauty. Sometimes he was so caught up in all the work it entailed he didn’t get a chance to really admire it and all it meant. The house had been in his family for generations and, like his parents, he wanted it to stay that way. Even though it was a pain, the wisteria made the house look like something from a fairy tale when it bloomed in spring, and even in the winter the vines wrapped the house like a protective hand. The trouble was, John realised, he only saw Thornhill Hall’s faults these days. Too caught up in work of one type or another.
Gravel shifted underfoot as he stepped off the lawn and onto the turning circle, passing the edge where Hetty had parked o
ver a month ago. A spark of excitement started in his chest at the idea of the food festival. He was looking forward to it and hoped he’d get a chance to speak to Hetty again to make up for the weird generator conversation.
Smelling the sweet scent of roses on the air, he entered the rose garden and strolled through it to a high flint stone wall that marked its boundary, and a tall wooden gate. The paving was uneven where the plants were growing underneath and forcing their way up. Another thing they’d have to have fixed if they were ever to open the house to the public or they’d face a lawsuit should someone fall over. So far, there was no sign of his father, but the secret garden had become his sanctuary.
John still loved it as much as he had as a child when he and Felix would play together for hours and hours. There’d been family picnics in the summertime made by his mother. And in the winter, when the colours faded and the weather grew cold, it was the perfect place for him to build dens.
The secret garden was a long oblong, enclosed by the sturdy tall flint stone wall heavily coated in green from the plants that had been left to do what they will. Here and there, specks of the black flint poked out among the different types of flowers. Honeysuckle grew down one end, tumbling into a corner and near the gate where he had entered, roses scrambled towards the floor. In the gaps of the same worn, uneven paving stones, tufts of grass grew upwards, reaching towards the sun. A huge oak tree, tall and magnificent, grew in the corner, providing some welcome shade from the hot summer sun. Rupert was underneath it, on all fours, pruning a plant that had managed to grow behind the great wide trunk. He could see why his father found comfort here. The whole place gave a sense of remoteness and serenity.
‘Father,’ John called loudly, his voice penetrating the peace and quiet. Rupert looked up and smiled at his son. He had a kind, oval face, wrinkled heavily and pink from the weather. John suddenly noticed that his father’s clothes were hanging looser. He hadn’t realised his father had lost weight. ‘Felix wants us all at the house. He said he needs to talk to us about something.’ Rupert stood, his face contorting into a pained and panicked expression, which tugged at John’s heart. His poor father had been blamed for so much by all of them and they had been so unfair.
In the immediate aftermath of the fire, when the dire situation became clear, they’d all shouted and screamed at their father. His mother had shrieked and cried. Angered that Rupert had ignored both his and Felix’s advice, they too had vented their spleens, leaving Rupert in no doubt that he was entirely to blame for everything. John remembered shamefully that he had even told Rupert that he could never forgive him for the pain he’d caused his mother. Even now, after copious apologies, the shame still reached down his back, burning him.
‘Oh, right. Well – I guess I’d better – shall I just—’ With jerky movements he stepped one way and then another, finally dropping the pruning shears he’d been holding.
John motioned for him to come. ‘I’m sure it’s nothing serious, Father. And if it is, we’ll deal with it together.’ As Rupert reached him, John put his arm around his shoulders and began to guide him towards the house.
‘I do hope it’s nothing – did he say …’
They exited the secret garden and took the direct route through the rose garden to the back of the house. ‘I’m sure it’s nothing too serious, Father,’ John said again, but he didn’t believe it. Felix’s tone had been even more offhand than usual.
‘I know that I’ve …’ He didn’t finish the sentence, letting the words fall behind them as they moved onwards.
‘Please, Father, don’t worry. I promise whatever it is I’ll sort it. Okay?’
They reached the steps and through one of the windows John could see Felix staring out. He smiled, but his brother’s face was forbidding. John’s worries ramped up a notch and when he led them inside and opened the door to the parlour, Felix was still standing by the large sash window with his back to the room. Lucinda sat primly on the sofa. She’d never been one for jeans and T-shirts and the floral pattern of her dress almost matched the chintzy sofa she was perched on. Rupert went and sat next to her. She took his hand in hers, resting it on her lap.
Taking the air of authority he always did, Felix rolled his shoulders back and marched to the middle of the room. In front of the grand marble fireplace, he said, ‘Thanks for finding Father, John.’ But the look on Felix’s face wiped out all hints of John’s good humour and instead his stomach knotted tighter. Felix was grave and stern as the light shone in through the windows highlighting the drabness of the room. ‘I wanted you all here because I have something to tell you.’
As Felix tugged down the front of his suit jacket, John checked his hand for a wedding ring, worried that he was going to announce he and Elizabeth were getting divorced. But the ring was still there, and his feeling of dread heightened. It must be about the family’s finances. Felix cleared his throat and continued. ‘This morning I invested as much of the family’s money as possible in the investment my friend told us about.’
Anger electrified John’s muscles making him stand. ‘You’ve done what?’
‘I think you heard perfectly well,’ Felix replied, lifting his chin. ‘John, this is a good chance for us to make some real money. You can’t always play it safe—’
‘How could you, Felix? You knew I disagreed with this. When everything first happened we agreed we’d make decisions together.’
‘Well, we couldn’t agree in this case, so I made the decision for us both. This is a sound investment. It’s all about timing the market. In at the bottom, out at the top.’ His hand jabbed the air first low then higher up. ‘A lot of profit if we time everything right and I’m confident my friend won’t lead us astray. I met with the investment company and I’m confident in them too.’
John ran a hand through his hair and placed one on his hip. Lucinda watched on, glancing now and again at Rupert, whose eyes were cast down. ‘It’s too risky.’
‘I disagree,’ Felix said calmly, with a dismissive shrug of his shoulders. ‘The profits from this will wipe out a huge chunk of our debt and pay for some immediate repairs.’
‘Why did you just ignore my feelings, Felix. What if—’
‘It’s a timebound investment, John. It’s called timing the market for a reason. And time was running out. I couldn’t wait for you to think things through, explore every possible outcome, then change your mind.’
As his anger mounted, John paced the room. ‘That’s not it at all. You knew I wouldn’t change my mind. You’re so bloody high and mighty—’
‘I am not,’ Felix announced. ‘This is the right decision for the family, John. It’s not my fault you’re too pig-headed and stubborn to see a good opportunity when it comes up and smacks you in the face. Just because you built your business slowly, taking tiny baby steps, doesn’t mean everyone else sees things the same way. Sometimes, when a debt is as big as ours, you have to take big chances.’
John ignored Felix’s deliberately provocative comment and turned to his mother to check she was okay. ‘Mother?’
But Felix jumped in before Lucinda could answer. ‘You know I’ve done what I think is right, Mother, don’t you? And I’m sure this’ll be a success.’ He was such a suck-up, John thought. It was all right for him, waltzing in and out of the house like it was some holiday home. He didn’t have the burden of being here every day. He was lucky enough to have his own life. Lucinda hesitated for a second, her back ramrod straight thanks to her Swiss-finishing-school-perfect posture. She looked tired and fed up. Heavy dark circles had formed under her eyes, and her skin – which John always remembered as being soft and plump – was now thin and grey.
‘Felix if you think this is the best thing for us, then I support your decision.’ She turned to Rupert whose eyes had glazed over.
John shook his head incredulously. How could his mother sit there and just agree with what Felix had done? But he wasn’t going to shout at her. It wasn’t her fault. She’d been born of
a generation of upper-class women who left the finances to the men, and though they’d tried to include her after the fire, as their father wasn’t able to make decisions anymore, she’d backed away as much as possible. John’s eyes fell on Rupert and he tried to gently coax him into the conversation. Rupert had a say in this too, even if he’d made some bad decisions in the past. ‘Father, what do you think? You get a say in this too.’
‘Oh, well,’ he mumbled, and Lucinda squeezed his hand tighter. ‘I think we all know that I’m not – that is to say – bad choices – not really my thing anymore.’ He chuckled to himself. ‘Gardening now.’
An unspeakable sadness filled John’s soul. Rupert had been so completely stripped of his confidence and it was all their fault.
‘It’s far too risky, Felix,’ John said again. Maybe there was a cooling-off period, and they could still get the money back, but he knew that chance was slim. If Felix had signed on the dotted line, which they both had the authority to do, there’d be no going back.
‘Well, it’s done now,’ Felix replied. ‘And we’ll find out soon enough if it was the right decision. I’ve been told it’s a dead cert. I have every confidence this will change our family’s fortunes.’
No matter what Felix said, investing the money meant risking losing it; at least if they had it in the bank it was there for part-payments or for when something came along that was more of a certainty. Every spare minute John wasn’t working, and a lot of the time he should have been, was spent looking at different business models and opportunities, figuring out how to get the house making money. He’d thought of opening to visitors, selling more land, converting the east wing to a boutique B&B, a million and one different things. And all that hard work had been thrown out of the window by his overconfident, self-important brother.
‘Your decision is exactly what it is,’ spat John. ‘If this doesn’t work you could have cost us everything, Felix. I hope you know that. If this investment fails—’
