Autumn Leaves at Mill Grange

by Jenny Kane

  It had been Helen’s idea about sponsorship that had made Phil sit up and take notice. Now, as Shaun waited, trying not to pounce on him for answers, he worked through the idea again in his head. From what Thea had told him about the work Tom had done for the Wiltshire Archaeology Trust, having a tutor to train former military personnel in archaeological techniques on staff at Mill Grange was a good one. It would also be an ideal thing to sponsor. The kudos it would bring to Landscape Treasures could only be positive.

  Returning to the script he was supposed to be memorising, Shaun found his eyes constantly drifting to the producer, until at last, he saw Phil walking in his direction.

  *

  ‘Are you sure they’ll be okay about me using the bathroom, but not staying for coffee?’

  Sam was already out of the car, stretching his legs after being cooped up in the driving position for so long. ‘If they say anything, get a takeaway coffee.’

  ‘But I don’t want one. I’m nervous enough, the last thing I need is liquid. I can’t shake your mum’s hand and then instantly rush off to the loo.’

  ‘Tina, calm down. Look around you.’

  As if suddenly waking up to where they’d parked, Tina took in velvet green hills, a run of woodland and, to her side, a picturesque café that she couldn’t believe she hadn’t taken in. ‘It’s beautiful.’

  ‘One of my favourite places as a child. St Ann’s Well and café. You can take the waters here, a little like in Bath, but slightly less disgusting to taste.’

  ‘Another blast from your past?’ Tina grinned as she found herself imagining a young Sam, running around the grounds with his parents, being held back from the well so he didn’t topple down it. ‘Where’s the well?’

  ‘Inside. The building dates back to 1813. The spring comes up through a carved Sicilian marble spout and basin.’

  ‘Really? I’d love to see that.’

  ‘Then go inside and see it.’

  ‘But, I can’t leave you outside and…’

  ‘You can and you must. I need to save my bravery for when I see my father. Go on, you’ll soon be freckle-free.’

  There was no need to worry about heading straight to the cloakroom. The café was packed, and if her arrival was noticed by the busily smiling staff, then no one passed comment.

  She could see the basin Sam had spoken of, and vowed she’d take a closer look if the place was still anonymously crowded after she’d cleaned up.

  One glimpse in the bathroom mirror revealed the extent of the damage. Somehow the spray from the road had seeped its way down Tina’s neck. The collar of her white blouse was no longer white, but streaked with grey. Her jacket was dotted with mud and her hair looked like she’d been through a hedge both backwards and forwards.

  Do not cry. Do not cry.

  Knowing that tear-stained eyes would not improve the situation, Tina splashed her face with warm water, then, taking a roll of tissue paper, did her best to scrub at the dirty jacket. Seconds later she was less muddy, but had tiny fluffs of tissue all over herself, which no amount of shaking would get off.

  Resigned to literally picking them off one by one, thinking it would at least give her something to do as they drove to the house, and might help take her mind off her nerves, Tina gave up on her clothes, hoping the grey collar would be hidden by her hair, which she attacked with her hairbrush.

  ‘This is not about you.’ She tugged at a knot. ‘This is about Sam and his parents.’ She attacked another clump of tattered hair. ‘If they hate you, you’ll live.’

  Tina stared at the reflection of her anxious face. ‘I just hope they don’t.’

  Thirty-Seven

  September 24th

  ‘I wonder how Thea is getting on sorting out Sophie and the Landscape Treasures team.’

  Tina had lost count of how many bits of tissue she’d pulled from her velvet jacket. ‘Seems odd that they’re working at one stately home, we’re about to reach another, yet none of us are near the one that needs us most.’

  ‘I’m sure Thea will phone when she has news.’ Sam focused straight ahead as he spoke. There was something about his tone that made Tina stop battling the tissue fluff and look at him. ‘Are you alright?’

  ‘Not really.’

  ‘Do you want to stop again before we get there?’ Tina’s own nerves zipped up a notch as the carefree air Sam had shared during the journey evaporated.

  ‘Too late, we’re almost there.’

  He indicated left and steered the MG down a narrow lane. A sign told them they were going towards West Malvern, on a road that was not suitable for heavy vehicles. Tina thought the sign should have said: “Not suitable for anything bigger than a Mini”. She found herself wincing as the hire car scraped past the greenery, risking developing scratch marks that they’d have to explain when they took it back.

  ‘Sam?’ Tina felt her pulse quicken as she caught the determined expression on his face.

  ‘I’m okay.’

  ‘No you’re not.’

  ‘They’re just my parents. It’s not like we’re visiting the bloody Taliban.’ His tone was laden with apprehension as they got nearer to his childhood home.

  Tina felt herself shrink inside. Everything she could think of to say sounded trite or feeble. Saying it would be alright would be just hollow words. She couldn’t promise that. Her own anxiety wasn’t helping either, and she wondered if Sam was picking up on it – if her nerves were contagious.

  As the track widened out, Tina exhaled loudly and Sam abruptly burst out laughing. ‘You were holding your breath, trying to make the car thinner, weren’t you?’

  ‘Maybe.’ Tina blushed, and laughed with him, relieved that something she hadn’t realised she’d been doing had broken the tension. ‘It’s a bit like ducking when you drive into a multi-storey car park. Sort of automatic, although it makes no difference to the size of the car.’

  ‘Did I mention I love how nuts you are?’

  ‘Once or twice.’ Tina was aware of the world opening out around them as the bramble hedges dropped away, and the folds of the Malvern Hills stretched out on either side as far as the eye could see. ‘It’s stunning. I’ve never been to this part of England before.’

  ‘It’s not unlike the Blackdown Hills we saw earlier, but it goes on rather further.’

  ‘Without an Elizabethan beacon.’

  Sam licked his lips nervously as he veered to the right into a private road, with a stone gateway marking the entrance. ‘But there is the house.’

  ‘This is it then?’

  He drove slowly. ‘In a mile, the house will appear in a dip off to your side.’

  ‘A mile.’ Tina suddenly wished they’d had a coffee at St Ann’s Well. That they’d stayed there for lunch too. And perhaps dinner.

  Sam broke through her thoughts. ‘I’m going to apologise in advance for my father.’

  ‘If he can’t take you for what you are, then I don’t care what he thinks.’

  ‘Liar.’ He spoke with a smile, but Tina could feel the weight of how much Sam wanted this to be alright hanging over him.

  ‘Maybe.’ Tina was about to elaborate, but the words were sucked away by the breath-taking view that assailed them to her left. ‘Wow! You grew up here?’

  ‘I grew up in the forces, but I was a child here. Mostly.’

  ‘Mostly?’

  ‘Boarding school.’

  Tina couldn’t picture Sam in a posh school. In fact, she couldn’t picture him in the mansion they were approaching with more speed than she would have liked, despite only travelling at five miles per hour.

  ‘This is the only manor house in the Malvern Hills.’

  Tina stared at the house. Its rich red brickwork was a stark contrast to the warm grey granite of Mill Grange. ‘Is it built in the Queen Anne style, or am I getting my architecture muddled?’

  ‘It is. There used to be a formal garden at the front, but my parents got rid of it, for reasons I’ve never known, and gravelled it over.
Around the back the gardens and orchards go on forever.’

  ‘I wasn’t expecting so much.’ Tina felt overwhelmed. ‘Is there a large staff working here?’

  Sam shrugged. ‘I wouldn’t know.’

  ‘Sorry. I didn’t think.’ Tina held his leg as Sam pulled the car up outside the front door.

  ‘I’m as much a stranger here as you are these days.’

  ‘How long has it been?’

  ‘Six years.’

  ‘Six?’ Tina felt her mouth go dry as Sam remained sat in the car, his eyes fixed on the imposing front door, which sat in the middle of the house.

  The more Tina looked, the more she thought Malvern House resembled a giant doll’s house. Two storeys high, plus an attic, the centre of the house was flanked by two symmetrical wings either side. These accommodated three perfectly square windows per floor. Not knowing what else to say, Tina peered up at the roof. ‘I love the chimney stacks.’

  Sam’s hands remained on the steering wheel as he followed Tina’s eye line. ‘When I was little, I used to worry that Father Christmas would go down the wrong one.’

  ‘Wrong one?’

  ‘Only three of the chimneys work. The one to the far right, at the back, is blocked.’

  Tina could easily imagine a young Sam fretting about Santa being wedged in a dead chimney. It occurred to her that perhaps Sam had always been wary of confined spaces, but she said nothing.

  After another three minutes, Tina asked, ‘Do you think we should get out of the car?’

  ‘Yes.’ Sam stared at his hands as if he was amazed to see them on the wheel.

  When Sam still didn’t move, Tina whispered, ‘I have a confession. I emailed your mum.’

  A mixture of emotions from confusion to annoyance to gratitude flew across Sam’s face so fast that Tina wasn’t sure which one was winning as he murmured, ‘What about?’

  ‘I didn’t want you to feel pressured about going inside when we got here. Nor did your mum.’ Tina held his hand tighter. ‘Please don’t be cross. I wasn’t interfering, I was worried about you.’

  ‘Perhaps you’d better tell me what the upshot of my mother’s unexpected tiptoe into modern technology was.’

  ‘If we go into the back garden, you’ll see.’ Getting out of her seat, Tina ran around the car to where Sam sat. ‘We weren’t ganging up on you. I know how important it is to you that today goes well, but that’s nothing compared with how much your mum wants this to work.’

  Thawing a little, Sam swallowed. ‘What have you planned then?’

  ‘You aren’t angry?’

  ‘A bit put out, but only because I hate that this sort of plotting is needed in the first place.’

  Not sure if this was Sam saying he was okay with the situation or not, Tina thought about the message she’d sent to Lady Malvern, asking if they could eat outside, and how hard Sam was working on beating his claustrophobia. I wish that hadn’t been a lie. The response had been swift and positive. His mum had given Tina the impression that she was as supportive of her son as her husband was dismissive.

  ‘Shall we go then?’ Hoping she wasn’t shaking on the outside as well as on the inside, Tina watched as Sam unpeeled each finger from the wheel and stiffly got out of the car. He looked as if he was standing to attention.

  Looping her arm in his, Tina whispered, ‘Your mum is waiting for us around the back.’

  ‘And my father?’

  ‘No idea.’ She held him tighter. ‘Just remember, you have faced guns and mortar fire, bombs and more. Your father is one man. One man who you don’t have to see again after today if this doesn’t go well. Think about Bert, think how he got through and take courage in the fact that you will too. Think about every step you’ve made since we met. You use an indoor bathroom for goodness’ sake. Could you have done that a year ago?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Coming here today is another step in moving forward. I’m convinced you need to face your father, before you can move on further.’

  Exhaling slowly, Sam glanced at the tall red-brick structure to his side. ‘I miss my mother.’

  ‘Of course you do.’ Tina laid her head on his shoulder. ‘This is as much for her as for you.’

  Sam nodded. ‘Whatever it is you two have cooked up, thank you.’

  Tina kissed his cheek. ‘Thank me afterwards.’

  ‘I think I’m ready now.’ Sam fixed a brave smile to his face. ‘One more thing before we head around the back.’

  ‘Tell me.’

  ‘Can you make sure my ponytail is hidden down the back of my jumper? One of the first things I learnt in the army is that it’s better not to give the enemy any ammunition.’

  Tucking a few stray hairs down his collar, Tina made no mention of the fact that Sam had finally admitted he’d been in the army.

  Thirty-Eight

  September 24th

  Tina’s heartbeat got faster and faster as they walked along the side of Malvern House.

  ‘How many rooms inside? It feels like we’re never going to reach the back garden.’

  Sam peered at the rows of windows as they passed. ‘More than I remember. I swear it’s grown in my absence.’

  ‘We’ve got used to Mill Grange. I bet my old place in Taunton would feel minuscule now.’

  ‘Probably.’

  Keen to keep Sam diverted, Tina kept up the small talk. ‘Although I did love it there. I was lucky with my housemates too.’

  ‘I’m sorry I never met them.’

  ‘We got on well, but were never close. That’s why it worked, I think. Separate lives, working at different times and such. Nothing to fall out over.’ Tina risked a sideways glance at Sam’s face. He looked wary, as she kept talking. ‘We were more acquaintances than friends.’

  ‘You’re glad you left though?’

  ‘Yes of course.’ Tina hugged his arm. ‘I couldn’t cope without Mabel’s lunches for a start.’

  ‘You’re a good cook. Your lemon cakes are out of this world.’

  ‘Thank you.’ She sounded rueful. ‘Wish I was good at cooking other things. A man can’t live by cake alone.’

  ‘This man would give it a good try.’

  Tina’s mouth went dry as they reached the perfectly right-angled back corner of Malvern House. ‘We’re nearly there. I’m a bit nervous too. Your mum was friendly online, but what if she hates me when we meet?’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ Sam snapped. ‘Which back garden are we heading to?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I told you – the land runs on forever. There are twelve separate gardens, an orchard, a few acres of pastures, some fields for horses, a meadow and a pond.’ Sam sounded exasperated, as if he wished himself a million miles away. ‘Where will your plotting take us?’

  ‘I wouldn’t call it plotting exactly; we just…’

  Sam stopped walking, bringing his girlfriend to a halt next to him. ‘Oh hell! That came out all wrong.’ He stroked a finger across her worried face. ‘I know that whatever you’ve sorted with Mum was to help. I’m just so nervous. The instinct to get back in the car and drive away, so I don’t have to go inside and see my father’s expression of triumphant disappointment when I faint or bolt for the door, is huge right now.’

  ‘That isn’t going to happen because—’

  Not listening to Tina’s attempt at reassurance, Sam ploughed on, lost in his own anxiety, ‘I’m not sure I can face it. I’m sorry, Tina. I’m not ready. I can’t…’

  ‘Shhh… I know. It’s okay.’ Wrapping her arms around Sam, Tina held him tight.

  ‘How can I even think about running a retreat to help others in my position, when I can’t handle the pressure myself? Talk about a hypocrite.’

  Her hackles rising, aware that they could be overheard if anyone happened to be standing just around the corner, Tina spoke with forceful calm. ‘Do I have to remind you again of how much you have achieved already? Do I need to tell you that Woody had such a good time with us h
e came back to help so we could come here? Do I have to remind you that Mill Grange is almost fully booked for the first month? How many hotels can say that, do you think?’ Not letting him have time to answer, Tina took a deep breath. ‘Please, trust me, Sam. Like I said, if it all goes horribly wrong, we’ll get in the car and go home.’

  Sam licked some moisture back into his lips. ‘Via a place to buy extra thick scarves and jumpers?’

  Tina took hold of Sam’s hands. ‘That had better be a promise!’

  *

  The woman who ran towards them, her arms outstretched, delight etched across her face, couldn’t have been less like the image of the Countess of Malvern Tina had created in her head.

  Tina’s preconception of a twinset and pearls was replaced by an outfit that could only be described as flowing. A ground-sweeping, brightly floral skirt had been matched with a deep green cashmere jumper. A chestnut brown velvet jacket, which came down to her knees, gave Lady Malvern a hippy vibe; as did her long wavy hair, which perfectly matched the shade of her jacket.

  Glancing at Sam, who was engulfed in his mother’s arms, Tina could see the likeness between them was more than superficial. They shared the same eyes, the same skin tone, and – she suspected – the same adventurous spirit.

  So far, there was no sign of Sam’s father.

  ‘You must be Tina.’ The warmth of Lady Malvern’s smile was like being wrapped in a comfort blanket. ‘It’s wonderful to meet you. And before we go any further, you must call me Bea.’

  Tina, who’d been cursing herself for not asking Sam if she should address his mother as Lady or Countess Malvern was still processing the fact she’d been invited to use her first name, when Sam saw the product of their email exchanges.

  ‘Lunch outside.’ His voice sounded choked, as he muttered, ‘You’ve put up a marquee in case it rained.’

  Holding her son to her side as if she was afraid he’d disappear, Bea beckoned Tina to join them as they almost jogged to the white awning erected between the formal garden that ran parallel to the rear of the house, and the flower garden beyond. ‘I got Frank to pop a couple of those patio heater things inside so we don’t get cold.’