‘Oh,’ said Carys.
‘Never mind, cariad. The freezer could do with some stocking up, and it’s always good to have extra in the cupboard, just in case.’ Mam was beaming. ‘I thought you might be hungry after all that gardening and then walking back from Eden Farm. There’s a shepherd’s pie in the oven and the veg is all ready to go on. I thought we’d have blackberry and apple crumble for afterwards, with those blackberries you gathered yesterday.’ She clucked impatiently. ‘I never thought to order any cream. But it’s better with custard anyhow.’
‘Much better,’ smiled Carys. ‘I’ll just put these things away.’
Mam shook her head vigorously. ‘Now don’t you worry about that, Carys, bach. You go and sit down, and I’ll make us a cup of tea. I’m sure you could do with one.’
‘Thank you,’ murmured Carys, meekly. ‘That sounds lovely.’ Protest, she knew well, was useless. And, besides, how could she spoil Mam’s obvious delight in her newly returned control of her household?
Of course she was pleased. Wasn’t this what she had been waiting for all these months? Shouldn’t she be celebrating this sign of being able to return to her own former freedom?
The trouble was, Carys discovered, as she sat down in the little living room, her whole life had been taken over by Mam’s needs and Mam’s routine and she didn’t know what to do with herself without that familiar pattern. Without her old life in Chester with Joe to return to, she didn’t even know where to begin.
This must be the feeling you have when you watch your toddler going off to the first day in nursery, she thought. The glee at having time to yourself at last abruptly swept away, as you watch the centre of your existence for the past few years move away into a life beyond you.
For everyone else, life had moved on. Joe was following his ambitions, David was going who-knows-where. Even Rhiannon – whether she took the residency in America or not – was moving into a new career and a new phase in her life. Carys suddenly felt left behind. No one needed her here, while her old life in Chester felt an entire lifetime away. Close as they were, even Poppy was absorbed in babies and keeping a life and business together.
Carys switched on her laptop, fighting down a rising sense of panic. She had the freedom to start something new, and do whatever she wanted with her life. But that freedom seemed more like one scarily large and empty space, with no idea of where to begin.
As she started to look at the accounts she was supposed to be doing, to the sound of Mam humming to herself in the kitchen while the kettle boiled, it felt to Carys that this was the loneliest place she had been in her life.
Chapter Twenty-Five
The following day crawled by. However much she tried to throw herself into her work, Carys couldn’t concentrate on anything.
As the afternoon wore on, she finally gave up any attempt on the accounts she was finishing and went through her emails instead. A rapid glance told her that the majority were work-related, plus one from Gwenan with the ominous subject line: ‘This year’s arrangements for Christmas.’ Cary groaned and marked that one to be read later. Possibly with a large glass of wine to hand.
There was nothing from David. There had been no text either, even though he had been due to meet Edmund Jnr in Heathrow this morning at 10 a.m. sharp. Edmund’s plane had probably been delayed. They might even have put off their meeting until tomorrow. David could at this very minute be in the process of finding a hotel for the night.
Carys made herself a fresh cup of coffee to sounds of Mam in full spring-cleaning mode, preparing for her bedroom upstairs to receive her bed once more. Forget the family Christmas; Gwenan was going to have enough to say about Mam having press-ganged several of the more spritely members of the Boadicea’s history group into hoisting the bed up the stairs after the next meeting. A bara brith was already cooling on the kitchen work surface, while a rich smell of chocolate cake oozed in mouth-watering fashion from the oven. Mam had not lost her touch when it came to bribery, Carys noted to herself with a grin, settling down at the keyboard once more.
She’d missed the message from Joe halfway down. Most probably because she hadn’t been looking for it. With a sinking feeling she clicked the email open. The message was short and stilted. An offer had at last been made on the flat. Young couple, recently married and moving into the area. No chain. Very keen to move in asap.
‘I thought you’d like to know.
Joe’
Carys sat back and sipped her coffee, feeling her heartbeat return to normal and the hurt feelings at the cool sign off subside.
She hadn’t been forgiven, then. So much for her idea of returning to some kind of friendship. Even now, he hadn’t quite been able to resist including the letters after his name and the impressive signature of his new firm, complete with lengthy confidentiality information and instructions to think of the environment and only print if necessary.
‘Arse,’ muttered Carys, composing a brief and courteous reply, before consigning his email to the ‘deleted items’ folder.
About this, at least, she had no regrets. Joe was no longer a part of her life. The breaking of this final connection was a relief. It wouldn’t exactly be a fortune to split between them once the mortgage had been paid off, but it was better than nothing. Enough, with the freelance work she was still getting from Tylers, to take the pressure off and give her time to look around.
With nothing to keep her in Pont-ar-Eden, she might have another look south. She and David hadn’t had time to see North Devon, where she’d heard there was still land that might just be affordable. Now was the time to start looking. Carys clicked onto Google Maps. Ilfracombe looked pretty. Right on the North Devon coast, on the edge of Exmoor National Park and not too far from Bristol. She could base herself there for a couple of days and have a good mosey around.
She had just typed ‘B&Bs near Ilfracombe, Devon’ into Google when her email pinged. It might be David. Or Joe to say the sale was definitely going through.
‘Hi Carys! How’s the search for the smallholding going? Have you found anywhere suitable yet?’ Carys blinked. In her haste, she’d clicked on the email without looking at the sender. This wasn’t David, and it definitely wasn’t Joe.
Karenza. She’d had a couple of emails from Karenza since they’d got back, but nothing in the last couple of days, and nothing as long as this.
With a sense of a new world opening up in front of her, Carys began to read.
‘Sorry I’m late!’ Carys hurtled down the last steps into the glade to find David already there. ‘I was concentrating on something and totally missed your text.’
‘That’s okay.’ He smiled at her. ‘I should have contacted you earlier. I’ve only just got here myself.’
A breeze stirred the yellowing leaves, sending shadows racing and the branches swaying into life with a soft, dry rattle. Autumn scents filled the air in the slant of bright, delicate sunlight: fungus mixed with the ripeness of fruit.
‘Well?’ His face was strained and grey. Carys’ stomach clenched into one tight, hard knot. ‘That bad, eh?’
‘Worse. He never turned up.’
‘What? You mean he was delayed?’
‘No. He just never turned up. No message. Nothing.’
‘Maybe his flight was diverted.’
‘I checked. He wasn’t even booked on the flight. I called and emailed him for several hours. Nothing. There were no diversions and no,’ he added at the look on her face, ‘no crashes, either. If he’d any intention of trying to contact me, he’d have done it by now. He’s a businessman, so he can’t possibly be completely isolated from the world for this long.’
‘But that could be good, couldn’t it? Maybe he’s decided to give up.’
‘I wouldn’t bet on it,’ David muttered. ‘I’ve a nasty feeling the next time he gets in touch it will be through a solicitor. He must be very sure of his ground.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘Well, it’s no more than we expected.
There’s nothing I can do until he gets back in contact again, so we might as well try and forget it.’ He changed the subject. ‘How’s your mam doing?’
‘Oh, fine,’ said Carys. ‘She’s certainly been enjoying finding out about Grandmother Judith’s life in Pont-ar-Eden while we were away. It’s given her a new lease of life. She’s been tracking down clues like nobody’s business. I can see she’ll be the leading light of the Boadicea’s history group in no time. It’s built up her confidence, too. She’s so much more independent than before we went to Cornwall.’
‘That must be a relief for you.’
‘Definitely. It means I can finally start moving on with my own life. One thing she found explains why my grandmother wasn’t in the line-up of the servants in the photograph we found.’
‘Oh?’
Carys nodded. ‘My grandmother arrived at Plas Eden as Hermione Meredith’s personal maid, but she didn’t stay that for long. Mam found the record of her taking over the running of a shop in the village. A little hardware store, in fact. It seems my grandmother Judith was definitely not a conventional woman of her time. From the address, Mam’s sure it was on the high street, and probably part of where the ‘Boadicea’ is now.’ She smiled. ‘I suppose that’s how she got to know my grandfather, if he was popping in for tools and bits and pieces. Although I suppose she probably met him while she was living in Plas Eden. No prizes for guessing it was the love of gardens that drew them together.’
‘I’m sure of it, too.’
‘Did you know the gardens were completely redesigned just before the First World War? Mam’s convinced Grandmother Judith must have had a hand in it somewhere, even if it was behind the scenes. And I suppose she’s right: there are so many echoes of the photographs we took of the gardens at Treverick.’
‘But much more beautiful.’
‘Oh, no comparison,’ she agreed wholeheartedly. ‘One of my teachers at college always used to say that no one can reach their real creative potential unless they are truly loved, and at the same time feel free. That’s how my grandmother could help make such a beautiful garden, and your great-grandmother could create such amazing statues.’ She met his gaze. ‘And, whatever way you look at it, it was your family, the Merediths, who gave them that love and that freedom. Whatever happens to Plas Eden now, that’s something to make us proud.’
‘Yes.’ He appeared lost in thought. ‘Yes it is.’ She heard him clear his throat. ‘Cari …’
‘And Karenza has been in touch,’ she rushed on, before he could continue.
‘Oh?’
‘She says that she’s been planning for a while to diversify the cut-flower business into market gardening. She’s got the land and local outlets have expressed plenty of interest. She just doesn’t have the time or the knowhow. So she’s asked if I’d like to go into partnership with her.’
‘To grow fruit and veg in Cornwall, you mean?’
‘Yes. I know it wouldn’t be my own smallholding, but as Karenza says, it doesn’t have to be forever. The main thing is to set it up for her, then she can always employ people to keep it going once it’s established. That means I’d be free to move on and start up on my own. People are crying out for locally grown food. I could diversify into jams and chutneys. Fruit wines, even. It would be a really good way of making the move to Cornwall and building a reputation down there before I took the plunge. It’s strange to think I do have connections down there, after all. I wouldn’t be an incomer, but a family member coming home.’
‘I see.’ His face was unreadable.
‘I’ve said I’ll give her an answer by the end of the week. That’s only fair. But I’m still not certain.’
David had turned away from her. ‘I think you should go for it.’
Carys blinked. Was that it? No regret, not the smallest indication that he might wish her to stay – or stay in touch, even. She’d wanted to be honest. She’d wanted to give him the option of letting her walk away. But that didn’t mean she’d wanted him to take it. At least not without the slightest attempt at dissuasion. Hurt flared through her.
‘I still need to think about it,’ she mumbled. ‘It’s a big decision.’
‘But it’s what you want to do. What you’ve always wanted to do. It would be a fresh start. A completely fresh start.’ He gave a little half-smile. ‘And you are partly a Treverick.’
‘I’ll think about it,’ said Carys. She needed to get away from there. Now, this minute. Before the disgrace of tears betrayed her.
David cleared his throat again, louder this time. ‘I could always come with you.’
‘What?’ Carys stared at him, not quite able to take the words in.
‘If you wanted me too, that is,’ he added hastily.
‘Come with me? To Cornwall?’
‘Yes.’
‘But what about Eden?’
‘It’ll survive. In one form or other, it’ll survive. When it comes down to it, what is the Eden estate but bricks and mortar, surrounded by earth? If I phone Huw now, we could get the sale with Beddows moving straight away. We might even get it through before Edmund gets back to us with whatever he’s planning next. I’ll be able to pay him off if necessary. Huw will be happy and Rhiannon won’t feel so guilty about taking up the residency in America.’ He grasped her hands, his voice deepening. ‘It can be you and me, Cari. Just as it should always have been. Just you and me.’
It was her happy ending staring her in the face. The happy ending she’d always wanted. Always dreamed of, if she was being totally honest.
Damn.
But she was Carys Evans. Straight-talking, loud-mouthed Carys Evans who couldn’t love someone as much as she loved David and let them make the biggest mistake of their lives.
She stepped back, pulling her hands free. ‘What would you do?’ she demanded.
‘Do?’ He sounded bewildered.
‘In Cornwall. What would you do?’
‘Oh, that.’ He smiled at her. ‘Help you. Start a business. Build a home for us.’ He frowned, doubts appearing. ‘Don’t you want me to come with you?’
‘Eden is your life, David. It’s where you belong. Ever since I’ve known you, you’ve been planning and working and dreaming about Plas Eden. It’s who you are. It’s part of everything you do.’ She bit her lip. But it had to be said. If they ever were to have any chance of a future of any kind, it had to be said. ‘If I was the cause of you giving all that up, you might end up resenting me. However much you might believe that impossible now.’
He was silent for a few minutes. She saw a struggle pass over his face. He couldn’t deny that she was right, however hard she could see him try.
‘You seemed happy enough to stay here when you thought Eden was being sold,’ he said at last.
‘I’d got Mam to consider. And it wasn’t intended to be forever.’
‘Unless Merlin asked, you mean,’ he retorted.
‘What?’ Carys stared at him in disbelief. ‘You’re not still on about that, are you?’
‘That’s why he wants to buy the land at Eden Farm, isn’t it?’
‘Oh, for heaven’s sake.’ She wasn’t quite sure whether she was about to laugh or cry. ‘Do you honestly think that I’d have gone to Merlin with a business proposal if I’d thought he had any romantic interest in me? Or if he still wanted to add me to his knicker collection, come to that. At least credit me with enough sense, in that case, not to give him quite such power over me.’
David scowled. ‘He doesn’t strike me as the kind of guy to benefit all of Pont-ar-Eden for the good of his soul.’
‘Of course not. Are you really that blind? Can’t you see it’s not me Merlin’s doing this for. It’s not for me that he wants the village to thrive. And if you ever think anything different, I’ll never speak to you again.’
‘Oh,’ said David. He discovered hope had returned and was banging loudly in his chest. Carys sounded very certain on this. Furthermore, she didn’t seem in the least upset about i
t. ‘So you still haven’t made up your mind about Cornwall?’
‘No.’ She hesitated. ‘Maybe if I hadn’t seen the old kitchen garden here…’
He looked at her in despair. ‘I hate all this uncertainty hanging over Plas Eden. I hate what it’s doing to us all. Huw thinks his chance of a fortune is slipping away. Rhiannon looks unhappy every time I try to talk to her about America. And I can’t plan for any kind of future at all. Not until I know. At least if we knew for certain about Nainie’s parents, that might be a start. But we’ve looked everywhere. There’s just no trace of Nainie’s parents even being married. That’s before you start on the whole bigamy thing.’
Carys was gazing at the statues, her eyes travelling from one to the other, as if there might be some answer hidden in their stone eyes. ‘There has to be something somewhere. Somewhere we haven’t considered yet. Somewhere so obvious no one has thought to look.’
David sighed. ‘Trouble is, I can’t see Professor Humphries and the history group leaving any stone unturned …’ He came to a halt.
‘What?’
‘Edna.’
‘Edna?’
‘Yes. What did you tell me Edna said about Hermione Meredith?’
‘That she wasn’t the lady she made herself out to be.’ Carys frowned. ‘Which she was, of course.’
‘No, not that bit. The other. Didn’t Edna say something about Hermione telling everyone that she came from London?’
‘Well, yes.’
‘That’s where they must have met. In London. Which would mean in the Meredith Charity Hospital. Those newspaper articles we found in Cornwall said your grandmother worked with charities while she was living at Treverick Hall, didn’t she?’
‘Well, yes.’
‘So that could be the connection. Judith could have worked with the Merediths, or at least known about them and their charity in London. If you think about it, London would be the best place to vanish amongst so many people. That’s where she might have sent my great-grandmother, if she’d helped her to escape Ketterford.’
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