Wickham Hall, Part 3

by Cathy Bramley

  ‘Make your way up to the courtyard, you two,’ I urged. ‘I need to go and check on Jim, see what’s happening.’

  ‘Holly, be careful!’ Steve warned. ‘You don’t know what’s causing this smoke.’

  I nodded and pulled my scarf up across my mouth, dipped my head low and attempted to push against the tide of people. It was no use; the force of the crowd was too strong. I was beginning to get seriously worried and grabbed my two-way radio.

  ‘Jim? Come in? Jim? Over.’

  I tried him twice but got no reply. I radioed for Benedict instead. ‘Benedict, this is Holly. Where are you? Over.’

  ‘I’m in the courtyard and it’s madness, people pushing and shoving through the gates from the field. What’s going on down there? Are you OK?’

  More and more people were knocking against me and that, coupled with the acrid smoke, was beginning to make me panicky and short of breath.

  ‘I’m not happy with this, Ben. The bonfire is really smoky,’ I yelled. ‘And Jim’s not answering his radio. I’m trying to get to him now.’

  ‘I’ll meet you down there,’ he replied.

  It was ridiculous trying to fight the crowd, so I headed towards the ‘no access’ roped-off area instead, jumped over it and ran along the area cordoned off for the fireworks. I was nearly at the bonfire site when the radio crackled into life.

  ‘This is Nikki. I think we’re going to need the fire service; the bonfire is pumping thick black smoke into the air. Over.’

  I yelled into the radio. ‘Nikki, I’ll call them now. Can you see Jim? Over.’

  ‘No, but I’ll keep looking.’

  My skin prickled with fear as I dialled the fire service. Where was he?

  ‘Wickham Hall,’ I shouted into my phone when the operator asked for my location.

  I gave them the details and as soon as I’d ended the call I ran towards the bonfire as fast as I could. The smoke stung my eyes and my thick scarf did nothing to protect me. My lungs began to ache with the lack of oxygen in the air. Then my heart missed a beat as I caught sight of Nikki ahead, kneeling over my dear old friend.

  ‘Jim!’ I screamed and I dived to the floor beside his limp body.

  The next hour whizzed by in a blur of adrenalin and fear as the emergency services took over. An ambulance arrived in record time and paramedics fitted an oxygen mask to Jim’s face before bearing him off into the night towards the hospital in Stratford. A fire engine had eventually got the bonfire under control although the smoke still hung poisonously in the air. Apparently Jim and one of the other marshals had been throwing buckets of water at the fire in an attempt to subdue the smoke. But Jim must have got too close and had collapsed from smoke inhalation.

  All of the visitors had gone, including Mum and Steve, and I could finally breathe a sigh of relief that no more disasters could possibly occur tonight. At least everyone had been able to evacuate the grounds quickly enough; the marshals had speedily opened extra exits to the estate and cars had been able to drive away without delay. Lord Fortescue, having satisfied himself that everything was under control, had gone back to the hall. Only Ben remained, thanking everyone for their hard work and helping to clear up where he could.

  The St John Ambulance team were packing away, too. They had had their hands full dealing with the public, from panic attacks to asthma to mild smoke inhalation. But thankfully no one had needed hospital treatment – only Jim.

  My colleagues were all still here except Andy and Sheila. Andy had been really upset by Jim’s accident and Sheila had had to take him home.

  Ben and I sat side by side at a table in the courtyard, sipping at the sweet tea that Jenny had brought round on trays for all the helpers.

  ‘I feel awful about poor Jim.’ I sighed.

  ‘The paramedics say that there’s no serious harm done, Holly.’ He bumped against me gently. ‘Try not to worry, OK? It’s not your fault.’

  He smiled at me and it crossed my mind that I probably looked a terrible sight; I ran a finger under each eye to wipe away any traces of mascara and shook my head. ‘But I think it is my fault. Even you wondered if Jim could cope, I should have—’

  ‘Hey.’ He reached an arm around me and I held myself stiffly, wondering if anyone would spot us. ‘Jim should have alerted us to the problem sooner instead of trying to deal with it himself. Believe it or not, Holly, some things are out of your control.’

  He cocked an eyebrow teasingly.

  Nikki walked past carrying a fold-up table, caught my eye and winked. I sprang away from Ben and jumped to my feet.

  ‘I’d better, er, do something useful,’ I said, jamming my hands in my pockets.

  Ben set his plastic cup on the table and got to his feet. ‘Me too. And then when we’re all finished I’ve got something to talk to you about, unless you’ve got to dash off?’

  ‘I haven’t.’ I gave him a mock stern look. ‘But aren’t you supposed to be entertaining your guests?’

  ‘Mum’s guests,’ Ben corrected. ‘Anyway, this can’t wait.’

  Happiness bubbled up inside me and I beamed at him. ‘In that case, I look forward to it.’

  Half an hour later everyone had gone home except for me. And Ben. Ben, who had something to tell me. Although he didn’t count because technically he was at home. Unless you counted London where he felt more at home, which was a sad thought and not one to dwell on right now . . . Perhaps that was what he wanted to tell me, perhaps he was going to make Wickham Hall his home – permanently . . .

  I exhaled and shivered, watching my breath form a cloud in the cold night air.

  Ben’s eyes glittered as he held a hand out to me. ‘Come on, let’s walk quickly to warm ourselves up.’

  I took his hand, and wove my gloved fingers through his, aware of the fizz of excitement flooding through me. He was full of surprises. It was one of the things I liked most about him.

  ‘Where are we going?’ I giggled breathlessly as my legs tried to keep pace with his longer ones. We left the courtyard and began walking away from the smouldering remains of the bonfire and out into the dark parkland.

  He looked sideways at me. ‘Secret.’

  ‘Ben!’ I tugged his hand. ‘I thought you said you had something to tell me. Can’t you just spit it out?’

  He threw back his head and laughed. ‘Some things can’t just be spat out, Miss Swift. Where’s your sense of occasion?’

  I had no suitable response to that, so I just pressed my lips together instead and tried not to let my smile get completely out of control.

  I was glad I’d worn thick boots; the further we got from the hall, the longer and wetter the grass became. But on the plus side, the clearer the skies became too and although the smell of smoke and fireworks still hung in the air, a magical canopy of stars twinkled above us.

  Ben opened a wooden gate and we tiptoed gingerly over a cattle grid.

  ‘I’ve got torches if you like, or we can just be guided by the moon?’ he asked.

  I snorted and he grimaced.

  ‘Sorry, that was a bit cheesy, wasn’t it? I blame you; you bring out the cheese in me.’

  ‘Don’t blame me!’ I protested. ‘Anyway, it’s fine; I’m partial to cheese. But to answer your question, let’s enjoy the moonlight.’

  We walked along for a few more minutes and I stopped trying to second-guess what it was he wanted to tell me and instead immersed myself in the moment. I absorbed every little thing from the feel of his hand wrapped around mine, to the sound of our feet swishing through the grass and the beauty of the silvery moon as it lit our way.

  ‘I know where we’re going!’ I exclaimed, squeezing his hand as I began to recognize the landscape ahead.

  He lifted his eyebrows in amusement and dropped my hand. ‘Race you then.’

  He shot off and I failed to catch him up until he held out his hand again and then we ran hand in hand up to the top of the hill – our hill – where we had watched the sunrise back in the summer – and co
llapsed laughing and breathless on the grass.

  ‘Wait, Holly, get up,’ he laughed, shucking his coat off for us both to lie on. ‘Stay dry on this.’

  We lay side by side on the warmth of his thick winter coat, our chests rising and falling as we tried to catch our breath. Nothing and no one could have made me any happier than I was in that moment, lying next to Ben, listening to him breathing and gazing up at the velvety, star-studded night sky.

  Ben peeled the glove from my hand and laced his fingers through mine.

  ‘It’s just as beautiful as the sunrise,’ I said and sighed. ‘Thank you for bringing me here again.’

  ‘It was either this or sipping sherry with my mother’s cronies.’ He twinkled his eyes at me. ‘No contest.’

  ‘She is so going to kill you,’ I murmured.

  He smiled back, his warm brown eyes peering through those irresistible curls. The moon cast a milky light across his jaw and I really wanted to touch him, to stroke his face. But first I wanted to hear what he’d brought me here to say.

  ‘My crimes pale into insignificance beside my dad’s.’ He laughed, rolling over onto his side and propping himself up on his elbow. ‘Last time I saw my parents, Mum had just caught Dad trying to escape into the grounds with his new night-vision binoculars.’

  I chuckled at the image of Lord Fortescue tiptoeing out of Wickham Hall without permission.

  ‘Bird-watching again?’

  ‘Yep.’ His body shook with laughter. ‘He’ll be out there now somewhere, probably crouching behind the bushes fiddling with his focus and straining to hear the sound of screech owls.’

  ‘Oh dear, your poor mum.’ I pulled my lip between my teeth, trying to dredge up some sympathy after the dressing-down she had given me earlier.

  ‘She’ll cope,’ Ben huffed. ‘Neither of us wanted guests tonight anyway; serves her right if she has to entertain them by herself.’

  I rolled onto my back, gazing up at the pale yellow moon and the acres and acres of stars. ‘It’s massive, isn’t it, the sky?’

  ‘Huge.’ He chuckled.

  ‘It’s funny to think . . .’ My voice petered out when I realized how daft I’d sound. ‘Nothing.’

  Ben poked me in the ribs. ‘Go on.’

  ‘Well, I was just thinking that it’s odd that somewhere out there my father could right this minute be looking up at the same moon as me. And I’ll never know.’

  Ben pushed himself up until he was sitting cross-legged in front of me. I blinked at him and sat up too. ‘That’s a serious face,’ I murmured.

  He took a deep breath and suddenly he was back to normal, a smile playing at his lips. He took my hands.

  ‘Holly?’

  I don’t think my heart dared to beat in case I missed his next words. I swallowed. ‘Yes?’

  ‘I’ve got a surprise for you.’

  And then my heart did beat, fast and furiously against my chest. He leaned in towards me until the warmth of his breath caressed my lips and I felt something unfurl inside me; this is it, our moment, on our hill. I tilted my chin and gazed into his eyes, every nerve alive, and I could hear the steady insistent beat of my heart as I waited for the surprise.

  ‘I know that finding out about your father means a lot to you.’

  I frowned and edged back, feeling confused; I’d thought he was about to kiss me.

  ‘And I know that contacting him out of the blue would have been difficult for you. So . . .’

  A wave of nausea hit me as I realized what he was about to say.

  ‘So I’ve written to him for you.’

  He sat back and exhaled, as though he was glad to get that off his chest. He looked at me expectantly.

  Blood whooshed around my body so fast that my head span.

  ‘You’ve done what?’ I whispered, stumbling to my feet.

  ‘I sent him a letter explaining who I was and who you are and—’

  ‘You arrogant arse,’ I hissed.

  ‘Huh?’ He gawped at me.

  ‘How dare you?’ I gasped, pressing my hands to my hips. ‘How dare you presume to take control of my life? You may be the heir to Wickham Hall and you may be my boss, but that doesn’t give you the right to make those sorts of decisions for me. My relationship with Antonio Biancardi – or not, as the case may be – is my affair. Mine.’ I tapped my chest. ‘Do you understand?’

  Ben staggered to his feet, his face an eerie pale colour as the blood drained from it. ‘But, Holly, I—’

  ‘Get off!’ I sprang back as he reached to touch me.

  ‘I thought I was doing you a favour.’ He let his arms fall to his side helplessly.

  I stared at him incredulously, trying to find the right words to express my horror and hurt.

  ‘If I’d wanted to contact him, I would have done. By myself. And for the record, I don’t need any favours. No, Ben,’ I clenched my jaw, ‘you were being selfish, doing what you wanted to do, just like you always do.’

  And then I ran, down the hill, through the grass as fast as my pounding heart would allow.

  ‘That’s not true, Holly, it’s not true,’ I heard him yell.

  But I didn’t look back and to my immense relief he didn’t come after me.

  My car stood alone in the staff car park and my hands shook as I unlocked the door. Mum would be back at Weaver’s Cottage with Steve by now but I couldn’t face them yet. I suddenly realized that I hadn’t seen Esme all evening despite her having bought a ticket to the bonfire event. I brushed the tears from my cheeks, reached for my phone and called her.

  ‘Esme? Where are you? I need a hug.’

  Chapter 10

  Ten minutes later I was knocking on the door of Esme’s flat.

  ‘I meant to come to the bonfire thing but I lost track of time,’ she said, rubbing a hand over her face. She was covered in shreds of purple fabric and she looked exhausted. ‘I’ve got dresses for identical twins to alter for a masked ball and— Blimey, Hols, what’s wrong with you?’

  My shoulders sagged. ‘I’ve had fireworks of my own. Ben and I have just had a big row.’

  Esme cocked her head to one side and folded her arms. ‘Oh dear. I think this calls for Grandma’s hot chocolate.’

  I followed her into the kitchen, picking my way over a sea of purple satin, and watched in silence as she mixed cubes of dark chocolate with hot milk, whipped cream and a dash of Jamaican rum. By the time I sank onto her sofa and took my first sip, I could already feel it working its magic.

  ‘By the way,’ Esme blew on the top of her mug, ‘that personal shopper idea of yours has been a big hit. Mum’s got four sessions booked in for this weekend and one of those is a group of friends. I haven’t seen Mum so fired up about Joop for ages.’

  I nodded. ‘I’m so pleased.’

  At least it seemed I was able to get something right.

  ‘So.’ She slurped her hot chocolate, wiped a creamy moustache from her upper lip and looked at me expectantly. ‘Tell me about these fireworks.’

  I took a deep breath and wrapped my fingers around my mug. ‘Well, after we got rid of the fire engine and ambulance and finished clearing up . . .’

  I nodded at Esme, whose jaw had dropped open wide. ‘Oh yeah, it has seriously been a night to remember on all counts. Anyway, Ben asked me to stay behind because he said he had a surprise for me.’

  ‘Oh yeah?’ Esme snorted into her mug until she spotted my eyes bulging with tears. ‘Sorry. Go on.’

  ‘I’ve been trying to keep Ben at arm’s length, Es, because I don’t want to fall for him in case he ends up leaving Wickham Hall. But when he said that,’ I sighed, ‘he was just so irresistible I couldn’t help myself.’

  ‘And then what?’ she asked, staring at me intensely.

  ‘It started off perfectly,’ I whispered, and I told her the whole tale about our walk across the moonlit fields, hand in hand, and about how when I lay on his coat snuggled up against his side under a canopy of tiny stars I thought I might explode
with happiness.

  ‘Bloody hell, Hols,’ she blinked, ‘this is like something from a film. At the moment I’m totally in love with him myself. Carry on.’

  ‘It was going well,’ I agreed, setting my hot chocolate mug on the table, ‘until he leaned towards me and took my hand. And then instead of kissing me, like I was sort of hoping, he announced that he’d written to Antonio, my dad, telling him all about me and Mum. Just like that.’

  I folded my arms and sat back, staring grimly at my best friend, who shook her head slowly.

  ‘That is the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard, Hols,’ she said gravely.

  ‘What are you talking about?’ I squealed.

  ‘Apart from painting a picture especially for someone – that was quite sweet too.’

  I paused for a second; painting Secret Sunrise for me had been a lovely gesture. But pushing that aside for the moment . . .

  ‘This has nothing to do with being sweet,’ I fumed, ‘and everything to do with bulldozing over my life.’

  Esme sighed. ‘I take it this is when the fireworks started?’

  ‘Too right,’ I said, prickling with indignation. ‘How dare he presume to make contact with my father, on my behalf without my permission?’

  She raised an eyebrow. ‘Maybe because he really, really likes you and he thought this was a way into your heart? After all, his attempts at getting you on a second date have failed.’

  A way into my heart. I swallowed a lump in my throat.

  ‘Do you think?’ I murmured.

  ‘Why else would he do it?’ She shrugged. ‘It was quite a brave thing to do really. I would imagine he’s regretting it bitterly now.’

  ‘But I would rather have had a snog under the stars.’ I pouted.

  ‘Obviously.’ Esme let out a tiny snort. I glared at her but she let a second snort escape. And then we both collapsed in a fit of laughs.

  ‘I called him an arrogant arse,’ I said, pressing my hands to my face.