Escape to the Country

by Sherlock, Alison

  Her green eyes appeared to be challenging him, but he was used to holding his own. Perhaps it was just small talk and she wasn’t used to dealing with famous people. He found everyone treated him differently these days. He longed for how they had treated Tom Kingsley the carpenter. As if he were a real person and not a superstar.

  ‘You know, when you’ve got a minute,’ said Sam to Eleanor. ‘I wonder if you could advise me as to what kind of investment opportunities there is for the meagre savings we’ve got left?’ asked Sam.

  She looked a bit startled for a second. ‘Of course,’ she said in a bright tone.

  Tom had heard enough and left the room with his drink, aware of Eleanor in particular watching him as he shuffled up the stairs.

  Up in his bedroom later, he heard a commotion outside at the front of the house. He hobbled over to the window to see Sam trying to manoeuvre a tipsy Megan into his car. Eleanor and Annie were holding onto each other and laughing at the state of their friend. As Eleanor hugged her goodbyes, he realised that she suddenly looked completely different. Because she was being natural, he realised. Herself. Real. And suddenly he was tempted to get to know better.

  But she was a journalist. Totally off limits, financial or otherwise. She was definitely hiding something and he’d had enough phony relationships during his life.

  Besides, he didn’t need anyone. He just needed to concentrate on his music at the minute. That had never let him down so far.

  He drew the curtains and shut out the night sky beyond.

  Chapter 11

  It had been a slow day for Eleanor, helping out with the animals whilst her mum went back to work at the farm shop. Thankfully the Great Dane and cocker spaniel had returned to their own homes, which at least cut down some of the work. So Eleanor had had some free time to mull over meeting Tommy King the previous evening. Or rather, Tom, to his friends.

  Which she most definitely wasn’t. She wasn’t sure he would allow anyone that close, to be honest. Tom had been an impregnable wall. He had been fairly sullen and unresponsive. She’d had on her sexiest jumpsuit and winning smile and yet he had left the room so quickly he had almost left skid marks on the floorboards. But there was also the nagging feeling that they had made a connection, but that was probably just because he was good-looking.

  In fact, having met so many celebrities, she hadn’t been prepared for her own reaction to meeting him in the flesh. She had met loads of famous people before. Really attractive ones. But this guy beat them all, even though he had been wearing tracksuit bottoms and a white T-shirt, which, she remembered, had clung to him in all the right places.

  Then again, he had been very bleary-eyed. Typical star, thought Eleanor. Sleeping all day and expecting everyone else to rush around taking care of him. Although she had to admit that the crutches did actually look real.

  The papers had been full of questions about Tom’s problems but nobody seemed to know for sure. She wondered what had really happened. Were there alcohol problems? This was the kind of exclusive that her editor could only dream about.

  And yet, he was close to Sam. Who was Annie’s fiancé.

  Eleanor bit her lip in worry. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt her friend who had already been through so much.

  Feeling thoroughly confused, she really wasn’t in the mood to attend the local WI meeting with Annie and Megan, but she had promised.

  Anyway, the way things were going, it looked like she would be in Cranley for a long time. At least she would be around to help plan her friend’s wedding. And having met Sam again for the first time in years, she thought he was really nice. Not at all the stuffy earl in waiting she had perhaps been braced for.

  She scratched the eczema patch on her neck, worrying once more about her friends.

  At some point she would have to tell them that she had lost her job. But she was sure that just as soon as she’d confessed, then everything would be all right. Wouldn’t it?

  *

  When Eleanor and Megan arrived at Willow Tree Hall, they found Annie shuffling a big pile of boxes around the cluttered dining room.

  ‘This is all out of the kitchen ready for the cupboards to be torn down on Monday,’ she said, peering inside a box before shaking her head.

  ‘What are you looking for?’ asked Eleanor.

  ‘Some glasses,’ said Annie, with a sigh. ‘I thought I’d better dig out some of the best crystal for the WI meeting.’

  ‘Are you all right?’ asked Eleanor.

  ‘It’s just this meeting,’ said Annie. ‘I’m feeling really nervous.’

  She looked slightly panicked and Eleanor understood for the first time the pressure that Annie faced by agreeing to be a future countess of Cranley.

  ‘I think you’re putting way too much on yourself with this whole countess stuff,’ said Eleanor.

  ‘I know I am, but it’s really important,’ said Annie. ‘There’s been an earl and countess of Cranley for hundreds of years. We have tenants and people relying on us. Of course I want to be the best I can for them. And for Sam too. And I can’t let Arthur down. I just can’t!’

  ‘And you won’t,’ said Megan, squeezing her arm.

  ‘Exactly,’ said Eleanor. ‘You’re fabulous and you’re going to be a fabulous countess as well. We’re with you every step of the way, okay?’

  ‘Yeah,’ Megan told her. ‘You jump, we jump. Remember?’

  Annie gave her a smile and even Eleanor was touched.

  It was the quote from their favourite movie when they had been growing up, Titanic. Leonardo DiCaprio had urged the heroine Rose that they could jump off the sinking ship together. The threesome had said the same phrase to each other over and over. You jump, we jump. If they needed to, the three of them would join hands and jump into any kind of troubled waters together.

  Eleanor hadn’t heard the phrase for quite a few years though.

  ‘You’ll be a fantastic countess,’ Megan carried on, still trying to cheer up Annie. ‘Look, distract yourself with this.’ She held up the Hello! magazine that had been on top of the one of the boxes. ‘Lovely engagement photos. Love. Romance. Happy ever after and all that rubbish. You can even get some ideas about your wedding.’

  But Annie was digging around in the crates for more glasses, so Megan carried on flicking through the pages on her own. ‘Awww,’ she cooed, showing Eleanor a double-page spread on a couple of soap stars. ‘Aren’t they sweet?’

  Eleanor was concentrating so hard on her friend’s lack of confidence that she found herself accidentally blurting out, ‘Apart from the fact that he’s gay and she’s sleeping with her personal trainer.’

  Megan looked aghast. ‘No! How do you know that?’

  Eleanor blinked back to reality. ‘I heard a rumour, that’s all. It’s all round town about them,’ she said quickly.

  Megan still appeared shocked. ‘But this couple are okay, aren’t they?’ she carried on, turning the page to show some love-struck movie stars. ‘They’ve just got married.’

  ‘They hate each other,’ Eleanor replied, rubbing her forehead as it began to tense up. ‘They only got married to resurrect their dying careers. If she gets pregnant, it won’t be his. It’ll be by her so-called “cousin” Brad.’

  Even Annie had stopped pacing now. Taking the magazine from Megan and flicking through a couple more pages to another film actress, she asked, ‘What about her?’

  ‘She likes to wander around the house in the nude, according to her bodyguards,’ said Eleanor with a sigh. ‘She enjoys the look-but-no-touch approach.’

  Megan pointed to a photo on the next page. ‘What about her?

  ‘Steals everything from the hotels she stays in,’ Eleanor told them. ‘If it’s not nailed down, she takes it. Mirrors, bedlinen. The lot.’

  Her friends were goggle-eyed. ‘This is amazing,’ said Megan, shaking her head in wonder. ‘How do you know all this?’

  Eleanor thought quickly. ‘Our sister magazine is one of those celebri
ty gossip ones. I flick through it now and then.’

  ‘It’s awful,’ said Annie, shaking her head miserably. ‘It’s all a lie.’

  ‘I know,’ said Megan. ‘I hate fake people. But just think of what I can tell the other mums at the school gates.’

  Eleanor gulped. How were they going to react when they found out that she had been lying to them for so long?

  Anxious to change the subject, she checked the time on her phone. ‘The WI ladies will be arriving soon. We’d better get these glasses ready.’

  ‘Absolutely, my darlings,’ said Rose, appearing at the door. ‘We’re going to need a drink to keep us going. The whole thing can be terribly dull. Unless I’m there, of course.’

  ‘I’m a bit nervous,’ said Annie, wringing her hands together.

  ‘You’ll be fine,’ Rose told her, carefully taking Annie’s hands in hers. ‘I believe in you, my lovely sweet girl. I truly do. My darling Beatrice, the late Countess of Cranley, played a huge role in the local Women’s Institute and it appears they want you to carry on the tradition. You know what, let’s have a stiff gin and tonic before they get here to help you relax.’

  A while later, the group of women were gathering in the drawing room. It took a gentle shove from Eleanor to get Annie through the doorway to greet everyone.

  It was a mixed age group of a dozen or so women. They were all looking at Annie with a combination of interest and disdain. As if she were something to be studied but not really listened to. They were obviously well aware that Annie used to be the housekeeper. Instantly, Eleanor felt protective of her friend.

  But she watched in admiration as Annie took a deep breath and walked over to a nearby group who were standing next to the fireplace. ‘Hello,’ she said, fixing on a wide smile. ‘I’m Annie. Welcome to Willow Tree Hall. Isn’t it a lovely evening?’

  ‘Not really,’ replied one of the women. ‘Doris here has just announced that she needs three more radiotherapy sessions.’

  ‘Oh.’ Annie’s sweet face blushed. ‘I’m so sorry.’

  ‘What ghastly luck, darling,’ said Rose, coming over to smother Doris with a hug.

  ‘What do you need from us?’ asked Annie, still looking concerned. ‘I mean, there must be some way we can help?’

  ‘Absolutely,’ said Rose, with a firm nod of her head. ‘That’s what the Harris family are here for, of course. Have been for generations and young Annie here will be no different, I can assure you.’

  The women exchanged impressed looks before smiling more warmly at Annie than they had done before.

  The chairwoman called the meeting open and they all sat down on the various sofas. Rose had been right, thought Eleanor. It was terribly tedious, at least until the floor was open for additional topics.

  ‘The local cottage hospital has been ever so good,’ announced the lady called Doris. ‘I thought that we could raise some money for them this summer. The whole place needs updating and desperately needs some funds. When you spend as much time there as I have recently, it can be a bit depressing.’

  ‘What does our future countess think?’ said the chairwoman.

  All heads turned to Annie who was now blushing furiously as she slowly rose from her seat. ‘Well, of course I agree,’ she spluttered. ‘After all, everyone knows someone who has suffered because of cancer. Be it a partner, friend, family or work colleague.’

  There were quite a few heads in the audience nodding in agreement.

  ‘So, of course, I think we should consider ways to raise as much money as possible so that everyone coping with that terrible ordeal can at least be comfortable.’

  There was more vigorous nodding as Annie stood and waited expectantly for the women around her to voice their ideas.

  ‘How about a beetle drive?’

  ‘A cake sale!’

  ‘Sponsored knitting!’

  Annie was nodding robotically but Eleanor found herself shaking her head. This would never do. Knitting? How was that going to raise enough funds?

  ‘Actually,’ she found herself saying in a loud voice, ‘I took part in the London Moonwalk a few years ago. Maybe we could follow the same idea here. The Moonwalk highlights and raises money for breast cancer by having everyone walk a marathon route in their bras.’

  The nodding in the audience abruptly stopped.

  ‘You want us to walk around the village in just our bras?’ said the chairwoman in a shocked tone.

  Eleanor broke into a grin. ‘Well, you’d be wearing trainers and shorts as well. And the bras can be worn over T-shirts, for modesty’s sake. But yes, in principle, I think it could still work.’

  A lot of the women were exchanging startled looks. Annie was looking alarmed as she stared down at her friend.

  ‘Of course,’ carried on Eleanor, thinking quickly as she stood up next to Annie. ‘That’s just to highlight breast cancer. Perhaps underwear could be used to highlight other areas that have been affected.’

  A heavy silence followed, but Eleanor carried on, ignoring the shocked vibes spilling out in the room. ‘I mean, if someone had suffered with prostate cancer, maybe they could walk the route in a pair of underpants over their shorts.’

  ‘Like Superman?’ said someone in the audience, to a few stifled giggles.

  ‘Absolutely,’ said Eleanor, grinning widely. ‘It’s the silliness that raises the money, you see? And what’s a small embarrassment compared to what they’ve all gone through? It’s about making a difference and trying to change lives for the better. After all, that’s what I’ve been told village life is all about. Being there for one another.’

  ‘Hear! Hear!’ said Rose, suddenly. ‘What a marvellous idea! And what fun!’

  Gradually, the women in the room began to clap and stand up, eventually giving Eleanor a standing ovation.

  After a few moments, the chairwoman held up her hand to quieten down the audience. ‘Well, I can see Eleanor McCartney has fulfilled all that promise she showed during her years at my school.’

  It was then that Eleanor realised that she was looking at her old headmistress.

  ‘So, do I take it that you will be the one to organise all of this to happen?’

  All heads turned to Eleanor.

  ‘Well, er, yes, I suppose so,’ she told them. What on earth could she say otherwise? ‘It’s probably best to strike whilst the iron’s hot and hold the walk within the next week or so,’ said Eleanor. ‘Whilst we generate a big buzz about it in the village, I mean.’

  That at least would mean she would still be in Cranley to organise everything, just in case some miracle job offer came through from London.

  Annie turned and gave her a spontaneous hug. ‘You’re so brilliant,’ she whispered in her ear. ‘I would never have thought of that.’

  Eleanor smiled at her friend, grateful that she hadn’t let Annie down when she needed her.

  After the meeting had broken up, she watched the women huddle around Annie, all laughing and gossiping in enthusiasm. Megan too was chatting away with another group. Eleanor stood awkwardly to one side, feeling more out of sync than ever before with her friends. She had always had trouble fitting in at the magazine. Now she seemed to be out of step back home too. Annie and Megan had lives and friends here in the village. What did she have?

  Maybe she just didn’t fit in anywhere. Perhaps it was for the best that she wrote her exposé on Tommy King, without implicating Annie or the family, of course. Then she could go back to her comfort zone in London.

  So she slipped out of the room and went to find someone who could make that happen.

  Chapter 12

  Tom had slept in late again.

  The codeine was still playing with his body clock and continuing to make him feel sleepy. The foot was still too painful to get any sleep without it, so it was a lose-lose situation at the moment, it felt.

  Not that his vampire hours appeared to be affecting anyone else in the big house. Everyone kept telling him not to worry and to just do as he
pleased.

  He hadn’t realised how used to his own company he had become though. He was finding the family dinners around the dining room table incredibly awkward. Small talk wasn’t really his thing. But the family had been generous with their time.

  And their offer of accommodation had been equally generous, he was quickly realising. Sam had mentioned in passing that he had reduced the number of artists that he now looked after; the running of Willow Tree Hall was taking up a lot of his time. And also his money, Tom understood. There was still so much that needed to be done to the house that it made Tom feel even guiltier that the writing wasn’t happening for him. He owed Sam everything. And without his cut of the next Tommy King album, Sam might not even be able to afford to get the ballroom refurbished for his own wedding.

  Determined to try and stay awake, Tom had headed to the recording studio after dinner. He had switched off his phone a day or so previously. If it was business, they could get to him through Sam. Otherwise, he was off the grid for a while.

  And it felt good. Nobody hassling him. Nobody needing him. He felt free.

  He picked up the guitar he had brought with him. It had been a gift from his gran. It had belonged to her late husband; a man Tom had never met. But he must have been exceptionally lucky to marry such a woman.

  He stroked the smooth wood. It was a friend over the years. A mate. Something to trust. A special bond. He closed his eyes and began to feel the whisper of a melody.

  ‘Hello.’

  He jumped at the voice, frowning at the intrusion.

  The small bar of music had disappeared. Snatched away by the interruption in his thoughts.

  He turned his head to find Annie’s friend Eleanor standing in the doorway, wearing her usual wide fake smile. He gave an inward groan, not needing another awkward conversation.

  ‘I think everyone’s up at the big house,’ he told her, hoping that would be the end of their discussion.

  ‘Actually it’s you I’ve come to find.’

  She walked into the middle of the room and sat down next to the keyboard. As she crossed her long legs, he realised she was wearing high heels again. Her hair was immaculate, not one strand out of place. Her make-up was natural, but there was quite a lot of it. She looked so perfect that she could have been a mannequin.