Autumn Leaves at Mill Grange

by Jenny Kane

  The pub’s bar restaurant was much as Thea had imagined. Dark wood furniture in need of revarnishing was cast into shadows by lighting that was only just on the positive side of adequate. She could find no fault whatsoever with her bacon sandwich however. Shaun had been right. It was the perfect way to start a day on site.

  Ajay and Andy had been on their second pot of coffee when they’d arrived, while Phil was making fast progress through a pot of tea that Thea would normally have used for a whole family, rather than one man. The warm welcome she got when she joined them had gone a long way to settle her imposter syndrome. Now, as she listened to Phil give a breakdown of what had to be done, and how much time he thought those tasks would take, Thea made suggestions alongside everyone else.

  Taking Phil by surprise, Thea said, ‘The remaining work won’t take so long if you don’t reshoot all the passages that feature Sophie.’

  Ajay and Andy peered up from their heavily laden plates of scrambled egg on toast, watching Phil as he replied, ‘I assumed you’d be in favour of Sophie not appearing with Shaun.’

  ‘And I can understand why you’d think that, but it’ll cause more problems than it solves if you expunge her from an excavation that has taken place in her front garden. Especially as you’ve already benefitted from local press and news coverage, all of which feature Sophie as the finder of St Guron’s.’

  Laying his fork down, Phil looked like a man caught between a rock and a hard place. ‘I know you’re right, but if we are right about her mother…’

  ‘But it’s just a theory isn’t it, about Lady Hammett, I mean? No one knows it was her, not for sure.’ Shaun refilled his coffee mug. ‘Surely we should just call her bluff and finish ahead of schedule and get the hell out of here. Sophie isn’t responsible for her mother.’

  Ajay added, ‘And, the fact remains, Sophie is good on camera, lives here and knows the history of this place better than most.’

  Puffing in exasperation, Phil poured the dregs from his teapot into his cup. ‘I know you want us to finish up here so we can get to Mill Grange by the 1st of October. I would like that too, but we’ll be pushing it, even without cutting out Sophie.’

  ‘Then that’s what we do.’ Shaun laid a hand on Thea’s leg under the table and squeezed reassuringly. ‘We push it! Sophie can stay in, and we’ll bust a gut so we can be done by the 28th, while keeping an eye on Lady Hammett.’

  ‘But the 28th’s Monday!’ Phil shook his head. ‘It’ll be a miracle. Even if we pull out all the stops, it’ll be Wednesday at the earliest.’

  ‘But the 1st of October is on Thursday.’

  ‘I know, Thea, and I’m sorry, but even with you replacing Sophie on the excavation, we’re still behind schedule.’

  ‘Then she’ll have to come back to work as well. Shaun said she was good.’

  ‘Yes, she is.’ Shaun shifted uncomfortably. ‘But I accidentally humiliated the girl. She may not want to come back.’

  ‘There’s only one option left then, isn’t there?’ Thea knocked back her coffee in the hope it would lend her courage. ‘I’m going to have to persuade her to come back to work.’

  Thirty-Five

  September 24th

  ‘Will you be alright?’

  ‘I have no idea, but if I’m not, I don’t intend to let it show.’

  Uncomfortable with Thea seeing Sophie on her own, Shaun said, ‘If you feel threatened on any level, you’ll walk away won’t you?’

  Thea, who’d been nervous anyway, did not appreciate the advice. ‘Are you seriously telling me the girl is a risk to my safety?’

  ‘Probably not.’ Shaun played a trowel though his fingers. ‘Just be careful.’

  Thea flapped his concerns away. ‘Leave me to it and get back to work before I lose my bottle and you lose more site time.’

  *

  Even though she wanted to talk to the daughter of the house, it felt wrong to go up to the front door. Thea headed to the rear of Guron House, hoping that there’d be a back door near the kitchen like there was at home.

  Home. Thea felt a rush of warmth. Mill Grange was home now.

  Not allowing herself time to pause – and therefore think – she knocked on the dark green door that she hoped was the right one.

  Silence followed her knock for a full thirty seconds before she heard the sound of shoes walking across stone.

  Thea’s palms began to tingle as the footsteps became louder. She thrust her hands deep into her pockets, hoping she wouldn’t have to shake anybody’s hand. A mumbling from the other side of the door suggested that perhaps the key hadn’t been in the lock as expected, and whoever was trying to answer her summons was having trouble tracking it down.

  Wishing they’d hurry up, Thea forced herself to focus on the bigger picture. This is for Mill Grange. It could be argued that this is part of your job.

  She was in the process of justifying this point to herself, when the door opened to a flurry of apologises for keeping her waiting. The person stood before her was not a maid or any sort of servant. Thea felt wrong-footed as reaching out to shake her hand, Lord Hammett introduced himself.

  If he’d noticed how clammy her palm was, he made no comment. Instead he ushered Thea, with old-fashioned gallantry, into a large kitchen, that was currently dominated by a table covered with newspapers.

  ‘You’ve caught me indulging in my secret vice.’

  ‘My Lord?’

  ‘My wife does not approve of me reading the tabloids.’ He gave her a disarming grin. ‘How can I help you? One of the archaeologists I assume?’

  ‘Yes, Sir, we were wondering how Sophie was, and if she’ll be working today? Migraines can be awful, so we’d understand if she can’t, but we’re so close to the end of the dig, it would be a shame for her to miss out on the last few days after all her hard work.’

  ‘Indeed.’ Lord Hammett was clearly puzzled, but didn’t comment on the fact the archaeologists were under the impression his daughter had been unwell. ‘I haven’t seen Sophie this morning.’

  ‘I don’t wish to disturb her if she is sleeping, but it would be good to have a chat if she’s up to it. Deliver a progress report and so on.’

  Lord Hammett tapped the arm of his chair a few times. ‘I don’t recall seeing you about before. Not one of the regulars on the team?’

  Her face flushing, Thea replied as casually as she could. ‘I arrived yesterday to cover for Sophie if necessary. I’m supposed to be working on another excavation, which I’ll return to if I’m not needed.’

  ‘Sensible.’ His Lordship spoke with approval. ‘That Phil and Shaun seem to have their heads screwed on. Running the thing like a proper business. Good stuff.’

  ‘Umm, thanks.’ Thea shuffled awkwardly from foot to foot. ‘So, would it be possible to talk to Sophie, my Lord?’

  *

  ‘First on the left, second on the left, third…’ Thea stopped murmuring the instructions she’d been given under her breath as she reached the door she’d been heading for.

  She’d been quite surprised when Lord Hammett had given her directions to find his daughter’s room, rather than escorting her there himself, or even calling a member of staff to guide her. Maybe they didn’t have staff as she’d at first assumed. Or perhaps his Lordship simply hadn’t wanted to leave the comforts of his secret paper-reading lair?

  Now she was here, outside the room of the young woman who’d aimed to make herself her rival for Shaun’s affections, the whole situation suddenly felt ridiculous. Was she really about to have the sort of conversation she associated with spoilt teenage girls arguing over the hot kid in the football team?

  I didn’t even do that stuff then. I’m certainly not starting now.

  She wiped her palms on her jeans. Remember how you used to deal with difficult visitors at the Roman Baths. You can do this!

  The knock on the door was answered so fast that Thea had the impression Sophie had already known she was there. Telling herself off for being paranoid, Th
ea opened her mouth to introduce herself, but Sophie beat her to it.

  ‘Thea Thomas, I presume?’

  The way she spoke made Thea think of Stanley greeting Dr Livingstone, and she had to fight not to laugh.

  ‘And you must be Sophie. I’m pleased to meet you.’ Thea held out her hand, but Sophie ignored it.

  ‘I suppose you’d better come in.’

  As she crossed the threshold into Sophie’s private domain, Thea found herself in what she imagined to be a typical teenager’s bedroom.

  There were posters on the walls rather than framed pictures, a huge pile of celebrity magazines sat in a cardboard box between a bin and a desk that was covered in books and paper. The bed wasn’t made and there were clothes deposited in heaps all over the floor. Dirty glasses and mugs lined the lowest tier of a bookshelf stuffed with well-read copies of Georgette Heyer and Jane Austen. A computer sat in the middle of a second desk on the opposite side of the room. A vanity unit near the bed overflowed with books, make-up and bits and bobs of no real use whatsoever.

  More a cross between a former boarding-school girl’s room and a student bedsit than a regular teenage bedroom, then. A notion that was reinforced as Thea saw the titles of the books lying open on the desk. They were all local history books or archaeological textbooks. Say what you like about the girl, Sophie was plainly as passionate about her subject as she claimed.

  ‘Are you feeling better?’ Thea crossed to the bedroom window as she spoke. She could see the excavation below in full flow, the aerial view giving an excellent perspective on the church’s layout. ‘Migraines can be nasty.’

  Sophie didn’t bother pretending. ‘You know I didn’t have a migraine.’

  ‘True.’ Thea kept her eyes on Shaun as he and one of the local archaeologists set to work with a tape measure, taking down the dimensions of the area that had been uncovered. ‘Are you coming to work today? We need all hands on deck so we can finish on time.’

  ‘We?’ Sophie’s voice cracked with either anger, frustration or embarrassment, Thea wasn’t sure which. ‘You turn up when almost all of the work has been done, and have the cheek to make it sound as if you’re part of my dig.’

  Thea concentrated on the view beneath to stay calm. ‘Your dig? It’s an interesting point isn’t it, who excavation sites really belong to? I’m sure several of those textbooks on your desk will discuss the ethical and legal issues often thrown up when varying bodies claim ownership.’

  ‘Don’t try and lecture me! You know what I mean. You are nothing to do with it. If you cared about Shaun and his work, you’d have been here the whole time.’

  ‘I think you’ve been reading too much Heyer and Austen. It’s the twenty-first century. I have my own job and my own life apart from Shaun, as well as one with him.’

  Sophie appeared so shocked by her answer that Thea felt a tiny bit sorry for her. Would she think that way if she’d been raised in a house where her father had to hide if he wanted to read the popular press and her mother, according to Ajay, walked around like Lady Bracknell after the handbag incident? It must be like living in a time warp.

  Thea tried again, ‘Are you coming back to the dig?’

  Sophie sat down suddenly on the edge of her bed. ‘They’ll laugh at me.’

  ‘Who will?’

  ‘Everyone. They’ll all know by now. You know how gossipy it is down there.’

  Thea forced out a smile. ‘Shaun hasn’t told anyone except Phil and me, and he’s only told me because he felt guilty. And so he should – he behaved like a prize idiot.’

  ‘He told Phil how I humiliated myself! That’s just great. Not!’ Her eyes glared, not at Thea, but at the heap of magazines on the floor.

  ‘Phil won’t say anything.’ Thea sat down. ‘We’ve all done stuff we wish we hadn’t. Making ourselves feel small, trying too hard, trying to help and it going wrong, reading signals incorrectly and all that. It’s okay.’

  ‘How is any of this okay?’

  ‘You have to make it okay. Accept you made an error of judgement and move on. Look outside; you did that. You made that happen. That’s an incredible thing.’

  Sophie stopped staring at a pair of striped socks she’d discarded on the floor, and peered at Thea through her fringe. ‘You aren’t angry with me?’

  ‘For being a human with a misguided crush on a famous bloke? No.’ Thea licked her lips. ‘I can’t say I understand the way you got Shaun here, or your motive, where he’s concerned, but you did find the lost church of St Guron. Can you imagine how many tourists are going to want to see it?’

  Sophie hid her face in her hands, mumbling. ‘I suppose at least Mother will be pleased. From not wanting you here, she is now keen to show the site off.’

  ‘Perhaps with you running the place? I could see you as head tour guide and site manager.’

  ‘What?’ Sophie’s pale face creased into confusion. ‘I don’t even have a degree yet.’

  ‘Not everything in life needs a degree. Anyway, you’ve done a lot of work already.’ Thea gestured to the books on the desk. ‘Your parents must be proud.’

  ‘Father yes. Mother, even though she is suddenly all for the church on her land – not so much.’ Sophie gave a hollow laugh. ‘I thought this might help convince her. Seeing how hard I was willing to work to make my dream of being an archaeologist come true.’

  Thea pounced on the opening Sophie had unwittingly given her. ‘Then come and prove it, to her and yourself. Prove it to Shaun. Help us. The dig has to be finished in the next four days or the Mill Grange excavation will never be part of Landscape Treasures. And for that matter, prove it to me. Show me you aren’t the shallow, selfish, partner-stealing woman I’ve been taking you for!

  Thirty-Six

  September 24th

  The signs to Gloucester and Cheltenham had come and gone in a blur of freezing numbness. Tina was beginning to think she’d imagined them in her desire for the journey to be over.

  Although they’d avoided the motorway for as much of the way as they could, eventually they’d had no choice but to join it, and the wind against Tina’s face felt as if was coating her in ice. Tugging her scarf higher over her face, she wished she’d brought a thicker one with her, rather than the pretty chiffon she’d hoped Lady Malvern would like.

  Seemingly impervious to the elements, Sam drove smoothly along the motorway, exhibiting a confidence in the freedom of travel Tina hadn’t seen in him before. It was the first time she’d witnessed his adventurous side. However much her eyes streamed against the onslaught of cold, it was worth it to see Sam relishing a few hours’ freedom from his condition. If the sound of the road and the wind hadn’t made speech impossible, she’d have told him so.

  When the sign to Malvern appeared on a signpost, Tina felt a surge of relief that they’d be turning off the motorway. This was instantly followed by the arrival of a whole farm’s worth of butterflies moving into her stomach, and showing every sign of setting up camp for the foreseeable future.

  ‘Bit blowy, wasn’t it?’ Sam said as he came off the roundabout that ultimately led towards the town of Malvern.

  ‘You could say that.’ Tina pulled off her hat, and unwound the scarf, which was no longer the pristine item it had been two hours before. It was damp from the combined forces of her breathing and the rush of air. Tiny flecks of mud and grit from the road spotted it and, she suspected as she ran a hand through her hair, her face as well. ‘Is there anywhere we can stop and have a wash before we get there? I can’t meet your parents like this.’

  Pulling the car into the next lay-by, Sam twisted in his seat. ‘Nice freckles.’

  ‘Mud-coloured?’

  ‘With the odd hint of grey and even some green. They add variety to the look you’ve got going there.’

  ‘You seem to have avoided the green, but you haven’t escaped the beige spottage.’ Tina’s stomach contracted into a tight ball of nervous tension. ‘I can’t go to see your parents like this. ‘I’m scared st
iff as it is. I can’t turn up covered in mud. I want to make a good impression.’

  Sam wrapped an arm around her shoulders. ‘And you really do care about that don’t you, about them seeing you as a respectable partner for their son, even though I don’t care what you look like at all?’

  ‘You don’t?’

  ‘I think you’re drop-dead gorgeous, but that’s just extra for lucky me. It’s you I fell in love with – the part that’s on the inside. The woman who’s so afraid of upsetting people that she upsets herself instead. The one who asks advice from the chickens. The girl who sleeps out in the cold with me, even though she deserves a feather bed and silk sheets.’

  Tina rested her head on Sam’s shoulder. ‘I love you.’

  ‘Good response.’

  ‘Sam?’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Will you tell me more about your past?’ Tina twirled a finger around her hair. ‘It really is important to me. I want to know all of you.’

  ‘I will. I promise.’ He gestured ahead. ‘But can we get this done first?’

  ‘We can.’

  As he turned to kiss her, Sam’s hand started to travel up her leg, before he pulled back. ‘This isn’t a good place to get to the point of no return, and I’m almost there already.’ He flicked his eyes to his crotch and up again, making Tina giggle.

  ‘Flirt!’

  ‘A flirt who is only ten miles from Malvern House.’

  ‘What?’ Tina’s head shot up, expecting to see the manor house on the horizon. ‘We can’t be.’

  ‘No need to panic.’

  ‘Too late, I’m already panicking.’ Tina tilted her head to one side. ‘But you’re not?’

  ‘More apprehensive about going back there than nervous.’ Sam gave her another kiss. ‘Come on, there’s a café two miles from the house. You can use the cloakroom to sort those freckles out.’

  *

  Shaun didn’t say anything as Phil put down his phone after a long conversation with the television company. Prior to the call, he and Thea had brainstormed every possible angle they could think of to help persuade the management that they should film Mill Grange – no matter what.