‘You’re expecting visitors to the vegetable patch?’ asked Tom.
Sam grinned. ‘To the recording studio,’ he said, pointing at a large barn in the near distance. ‘This was my brainwave. We need all the money we can get, so I was hoping to rent it out to my artists instead of the expensive studios in London. Hopefully it’ll help keep me down here more often and maybe the grounds and house will provide a bit of inspiration for everyone as well.’
That was the thing about having a good manager, thought Tom. Sam was well organised and that left Tom able to focus on exactly what he wanted. The music.
He felt the jolt of guilt once more that the music, for once, wasn’t coming. That it felt more like a burden than a gift. He had been forcing songs out, but they were pretty terrible. They would probably be hits anyway thanks to his name, but he knew deep down that they were awful. The problem was that they weren’t coming from the heart. But for now his heart wasn’t telling him what it wanted. He was afraid that it might never do so again. That perhaps he had used up all inspiration and that there was nothing left.
To take his mind off his worries, he asked, ‘What was this place before you resurrected it?’ as they drew near a large barn which still had a full skip of builders’ rubbish outside.
‘The cowshed,’ said Sam with a sheepish grin. ‘But I think we’ve finally got rid of the smell.’
He pushed open the door and they went inside. The large empty space inside the barn had actually been divided into two. The first area was the control room containing the digital equipment required for recording, editing and mixing the music. Through a window Tom could see the second room, the actual studio. This had obviously been soundproofed and set up to maximise the quality of the recording. It was mainly empty, apart from a couple of chairs and extensive microphones.
‘I’m impressed,’ he said, nodding.
‘There was so much hassle in London over recording studios that it’s nice to get things simple again. As it happens, we were lucky enough to have Dan Fraser live in the next county. He’s one of the best sound engineers I’ve ever come across. We’ve got all the latest equipment.’
Tom looked down at the recording deck. To him it looked like some kind of Star Trek control desk, a vast array of switches and levers.
‘It’s mainly a project studio,’ carried on Sam. ‘I just wanted some place where you could all come out and chill. There’s so much pressure in hiring a studio. Here there’s no time limits, no constraints. Get relaxed and the music will be quality stuff.’
Tom blew out a silent sigh. His last album had been a massive, professional affair. Lots of edits and songs fiddled with. Not much quality, in his opinion. This time he wanted to strip the music down to the bare minimum. Just him, his guitar and a piano to start with. The guitar that he hadn’t even picked up in weeks.
Sam had privately agreed that his previous album had been overproduced and had agreed that back to basics was the way forward for his artist.
Tom was hoping that the new recording studio would be the start of a different direction. He just hoped he could think up some new songs to use it.
Chapter 10
Sometime in the afternoon and still struggling with a Prosecco-induced headache from her night out with the girls the previous evening, Eleanor flung open the back door, feeling close to despair.
‘How was the walk?’ asked her mum.
Eleanor glanced down at herself. ‘I can’t remember,’ she replied, picking a lump of what she hoped was mud off her T-shirt. ‘I was too busy hiding behind a tree.’ She looked across at the Great Dane as he slurped his way down the water bowl in seconds flat, leaving a trail of water across the floor. ‘He’s an absolute terror. I’ll be thankful when he goes back home this weekend. I will never understand what it is you like about them.’
The dog finished his drink before trotting up to collapse next to her mum, who leant down and stroked his head. ‘Unconditional love,’ she replied, choosing not to notice the water stain now appearing down her leggings. ‘They don’t care how scruffy I am.’
Eleanor stared down at her damp, slightly torn, muddy jeans which had been quite expensive. ‘Well, that’s where we must differ.’
‘You’ve always liked to look nice,’ said her mum, nodding her approval. ‘I think you must get that from your father.’ She cleared her throat before continuing. ‘Have you spoken to him recently?’
Eleanor shook her head. ‘No. He doesn’t bother much with me these days.’
What was the point? Her mum was the better person. The nice parent. The caring one. The peacemaker, despite the way he had treated her. Her dad only contacted her at Christmas and on her birthday. And then it was just out of guilt.
‘I’m going up to get showered and changed,’ she announced, heading up the stairs, feeling desperate to look like herself again.
‘What are your plans for the rest of the day?’ her mum called up.
‘I thought I’d see the girls tonight if you don’t need me to do anything for a few hours.’
Eleanor was keen to at least make a start with her story about Tommy King. But she was also anxious to catch up with the girls again, just in case she ended up heading back to London in the near future.
She called Megan first after her shower. ‘Hey,’ she said. ‘What are you up to later? I thought we could meet up.’
‘Really?’ said Megan, sounding surprised. ‘That would be great. We only usually get to see you once before you bugger off to the city to be with your more glamorous friends.’
Eleanor felt sheepish at the gentle ribbing, but knew in her heart that it was probably true. She hadn’t spent an awful lot of time with Megan or Annie in recent months. Or years, come to think of it. She had to start making amends.
‘What about your job?’ carried on Megan.
Eleanor gulped. Was it possible that Megan had guessed what had happened? Surely not.
‘They’ve given me some extra time because of Mum’s leg. So how about we meet up later for a drink?’
‘I’m not sure I can stomach any alcohol again. I haven’t recovered from yesterday yet. But sure. We’ll do something. Neal can have the kids for once.’
‘The only thing is, I don’t have a car,’ said Eleanor.
‘No worries. I’ll pick you up.’
The lack of a car was a bit annoying, especially as there was nowhere around to hire one from. Also, Eleanor was reluctant to spend her three months’ pay-off from the magazine. Goodness knows how long she would have to make that last. She knew that if she got desperate she could always borrow her Mum’s bicycle. But that had a basket on the front and more rust than actual solid metal. But there was no public transport in the middle of the countryside. She longed for the ease of the underground and red double-decker buses.
Dwelling over the ease of her old life, she sent a quick text to Lucas.
Hi. Save me, she wrote. I’m knee deep in the countryside, surrounded by farmyard animals. Please send an SOS package of caviar and Prosecco immediately.
But she got no reply, although she could see that he had read the message.
With nothing else to do, she repainted her nails and smoothed on some more antiseptic cream in the hope that it might help the eczema on her hands.
The hours dragged by until Megan picked her up.
Her friend raised her eyebrows when she arrived. ‘Nice outfit,’ she said, a smile playing on her lips. ‘I thought we were staying in at the Hall unless we’re going to a wine bar or something?’
Eleanor glanced down, feeling slightly overdressed compared to Megan’s cut-off jeans and baggy T-shirt. Perhaps her khaki silk jumpsuit and high heels were a bit much in the countryside.
‘Shall I get changed?’ she asked.
Megan shook her head. ‘God, no! We need a bit of glamour around here.’
When they arrived at Willow Tree Hall, they found Annie in the drawing room.
‘You always look so pretty,’ said Annie, wit
h a sigh when she saw them. She was wearing her usual skinny jeans.
‘It’s only clothes,’ said Eleanor, with a shrug. She had got so used to wearing her designer armour that she had forgotten how to dress down these days. Even Lucas had expected her to maintain a certain glamour, she realised.
‘Does anybody fancy a gin and tonic?’ asked Annie. ‘Sam said he can always drop you both home. Unless you just want a cup of tea?’
‘Bring on the gin!’ said Megan, her eyes gleaming as her hangover was quickly forgotten. ‘Two school nights in a row. How naughty!’
Whilst Annie went to find the glasses, Eleanor settled down on the sofa, trying to take in the size and style of the drawing room. It was stylish but homely. Modern but scattered with antiques. And the sofas were pretty comfortable too, she thought. It was a large room with high ceilings and a vast fireplace. But it felt used and lived in, as if the family had always gathered there.
‘Who was your interior decorator?’ she asked, when Annie finally returned.
‘A friend of Sam’s,’ Annie told her, placing the tray holding three glasses and a bottle of tonic between them on the coffee table. Then she headed over to a globe, which appeared to house the alcohol. ‘He’s called Alex. A right character.’
‘He’s an absolute hoot,’ added Megan, reaching out to pour them each a large drink. ‘Are you going to invite him to your hen night? It’d be hysterical if he was there.’
‘I haven’t even got that far.’ Annie blew out a sigh. ‘There’s so much to think about.’ She stared at the pile of wedding magazines on a nearby table. ‘I’ve got so many checklists to start on. And it all costs so much money.’ Annie’s voice trailed off. It seemed that stately homes were astronomical to run and that the lavish wedding that she had dreamed about was under threat.
‘Well, at least you’ve got the venue sorted,’ said Eleanor.
‘Even if the ballroom isn’t renovated yet,’ Annie reminded her, biting her lip.
Eleanor wished she could help her friend out. Even staying with Lucas rent-free for the past three months hadn’t freed up any more money. All her resources had been spent on the latest fashion, shoes and make-up. She had used every penny to keep up appearances on a life that, unbeknownst to her, was actually falling apart.
‘You’ll be fine,’ said Eleanor. ‘We’ll help you with organising everything.’
‘Even when you’re back in London?’ asked Annie, looking hopeful. ‘I know you’re busy, but that would be great.’
Eleanor nodded. ‘Of course.’
Here it was. Now was the chance to confess everything to her friends. To tell them that she might not be returning to London for a while, if ever. But before she could speak, they were interrupted by a glamorous older lady sweeping in.
‘Hi Rose,’ said Megan.
‘Hello, darlings,’ said Rose, blowing an air kiss at Megan and Annie. ‘I’m on my way to the village hall. I must show my face, otherwise they’ll have nothing decent to look at.’ She grinned as she turned to face Eleanor. ‘Hello. Have we met?’
Eleanor shook her head. ‘I don’t think so.’
‘This is Sam’s Aunt Rose,’ said Annie. ‘This is Eleanor.’
‘Ah! The famous Eleanor. These girls talk non-stop about you.’ Her eyes gleamed at Eleanor’s silk jumpsuit. ‘Sweetie, that’s beautiful. Prada?’
Eleanor was surprised. ‘Yes. Although it’s a few seasons old now. How did you know?’
‘I used to work in the fashion industry and still keep up with all the latest styles. Well, it’ll be lovely to have someone else as glamorous as me around here.’ She gave Eleanor a cheeky wink.
‘You should see Rose’s wardrobes,’ Annie told her. ‘It’s like Vogue magazine up there.’
Eleanor had already noted the classic Chanel jacket and trendy flared trousers along with many strings of pearls. This was definitely a lady with style.
Rose bent down to kiss Annie’s cheek. ‘One day I’ll get you dressed up as well.’
Annie blushed. ‘You know I don’t do that very often. Anyway, Eleanor’s always been the smart, fashionable one.’
‘Well, at least I’m glad to see you girls are having a little drinkie,’ said Rose, pointing at the gin bottle. ‘We’re going to have such fun this summer, especially if we keep the Pimm’s flowing.’ She placed a hand on Annie’s shoulder. ‘By the way, darling, as future countess, you need to come along to the WI meeting I’m hosting here tomorrow evening. They keep asking for you.’
Annie looked horrified. ‘I’m not sure I’m up to that.’
‘Of course you are,’ said Rose. She appeared to be the type of person that would never be flummoxed in any situation. ‘Bring your gorgeous girls here for support. You’ll be fine. It’s deadly dull, of course. They’re in desperate need of our style and wit.’
After Rose had swept out, Annie took a large gulp of her drink. ‘I’m not sure that the village is ready to see me as the next countess. They’re probably all going to look down their nose at the former housekeeper.’
‘Just be yourself and they’ll love you,’ Eleanor told her.
‘Exactly,’ said Megan with a firm nod.
Annie took another gulp of her drink, still looking nervous. Eleanor understood why. Annie had been badly bullied when she had been growing up and even now had trouble believing in herself.
‘Sam loves you,’ said Megan, nudging her friend with her shoulder. ‘He didn’t care about you being a housekeeper, remember? If you feel yourself starting to panic, just glance at that massive diamond on your finger.’
Annie instantly broke into a smile.
‘That’s better,’ said Eleanor. ‘So when do I get to meet your fiancé?’
Annie suddenly looked brighter. ‘Come on then. I think he’s in the kitchen with Tom.’
‘Absolutely,’ said Megan, shooting out of her seat. ‘And we mustn’t keep the gorgeous Tom waiting either,’ she added, rushing out the door.
Eleanor and Annie exchanged a smile but, hidden inside, Eleanor’s own stomach had a few butterflies as she went to meet the very person who could be a lifeline back to her career and life in London.
*
Tom had spent the afternoon in the recording studio, trying and failing to think up any new lyrics. His foot was aching and he had a splitting headache as well.
He and Sam had had a long chat in the kitchen about the style and direction of the new album. But Tom was still drawing a blank. It wasn’t that late, but he was thinking that a large glass of water and an early night might be the best thing for him that evening.
They were just standing up when Annie arrived in the kitchen.
‘Hi,’ she said, with a warm smile. ‘I thought a couple of introductions were long overdue.’
Sam raised his eyebrows. ‘I think we’ve already met,’ he murmured, drawing her close for a soft kiss.
Annie gave him a gentle shove. ‘You know what I mean,’ she said, blushing. She looked across at Tom. ‘Tom, these are my best friends Megan and Eleanor,’ she told him.
‘Hi Tommy. I’m Megan. I work here part-time,’ said the redhead, rushing around the table to give his hand an enthusiastic shake.
‘Well, I think working is perhaps pushing it,’ murmured Annie with a smile.
‘Hi,’ he said, shaking Megan’s hand. ‘And it’s just Tom.’
Megan giggled nervously and, blushing, sat back at the table.
His eyes shifted along to study the other friend, who was very attractive and more reserved.
‘And this is Eleanor, our best friend who’s come down from London for a while,’ said Annie.
He gave her a nod by way of greeting.
‘Hi,’ she said, with a wide smile.
Tom watched as she turned to face Sam.
‘Hey,’ said Sam, with a nod towards them both. He crossed the kitchen and held his hand out for her to take.
‘Hi,’ she said, still smiling. ‘Long time no see.’
�
��I seem to recall the last time we met you pushed me into the river,’ he told her, grinning.
She joined in Sam’s laughter which lit up her pretty face. ‘God, I’d forgotten about that! Anyway, everyone else was going in so I thought you didn’t want to be left out.’
He joined her laughter. ‘Even fully clothed! Yeah, thanks for that! Even fifteen years on, I remember the teasing.’
As they continued to reminisce, Tom was able to appreciate her fine body, highlighted in the silk jumpsuit she was wearing. A strange, glamorous choice for the countryside. He guessed she didn’t visit that often. Either that or she was extremely high-maintenance. She seemed in vast contrast to her two friends, who were far less fussed about wearing fancy clothes.
‘Belated congratulations on your engagement,’ she was saying.
‘Thanks. I’m sure Annie will need all the help she can get with the wedding plans. Are you down from London for a few more days?’
‘Hopefully a few weeks,’ she said.
‘The magazine can spare you for that long?’ asked Sam.
‘Magazine?’ Tom suddenly became very alert and on guard. ‘You’re a journalist?’ he said.
‘Well, only a financial one,’ she said, turning to face him.
‘What was the name again of where you work?’ asked Sam.
She was nodding quite manically now. ‘The Money Chronicle,’ she replied. ‘Deadly dull, of course.’
Tom was still frowning. There was something not right about her.
‘We need snacks,’ announced Annie, opening a cupboard and bringing out some Pringles.
Eleanor picked up a tube. ‘Can I tempt you?’ she asked, with a flirty smile as she waggled the crisps at him.
The zip on the front of her jumpsuit was appealing for a brief moment, but then his protective walls closed up once more. ‘I’m fine, thanks,’ he told her.
‘So, what are you working on at the minute?’ she asked, changing tack.
What was this, an interview? He didn’t like the feeling of being scrutinised.
‘This and that,’ he replied, glancing up at her as he manoeuvred the crutches under his elbows.
Escape to the Country Page 8
