‘I’ve just been at the WI meeting and have been tasked to organise a charity walk to help raise some money,’ she told him. ‘The local hospital is in desperate need of funds.’
‘I’m not sure I’m up to any charity walk at the minute,’ he replied, nodding at his nearby crutches.
‘Oh, no!’ she said, laughing. For a second her soft green eyes lit up and then she went back into manic grin once more. ‘What we need is a celebrity to start off the proceedings. Maybe cut some kind of ribbon. I don’t know all the details yet, but it should be within the next week or two. We’re hoping to get the county newspaper involved. We need to raise a lot of funds. It’s important.’
He sighed but found himself unable to refuse. His gran had died of cancer. It was a cause close to his heart.
‘Sure,’ he told her, with a shrug of his shoulders. Would it matter if he had left Willow Tree Hall by then? Possibly not. He was sure Arthur could take his place.
‘That’s fantastic!’ she said, leaping up from the stool. ‘How incredibly generous of you.’
She was acting as if he had actually discovered a cure for the disease rather than cutting a ribbon to start a charity walk.
‘No worries. Well, if there’s nothing else,’ he began.
Eleanor picked up the small carrier bag she had brought with her and held it out for him to take. ‘I was hoping you might agree to give us a hand,’ she told him. ‘So I bought you an early thank you present. Or perhaps even a bribe!’
He opened the bag and stared down at the huge box of Maltesers. He just about managed to stop himself grimacing.
‘Thanks,’ he muttered.
‘No, thank you!’ she told him, with a wink.
For a second they locked eyes and he found himself staring at the thick long lashes and the dark green of her eyes.
He still felt rattled by the intrusion after she had gone. And yet he found himself scribbling down one line of a lyric about different shades of green.
Chapter 13
Ten days later, Eleanor found herself standing in the warmth of the late afternoon sun. It was nearly the middle of June and with the summer solstice just around the corner, the air was finally warming up. Which was quite handy given the fact that she was wearing one of her prettiest and most expensive satin bras and nothing else on her top half.
Well, at least it’s a different outfit to try out on Tommy King, she thought. Heaven knows, nothing else had worked over the past week. She had accidentally on purpose bumped into him three times up at the Hall during that time but to no avail. She had merely received a grumpy nod of his head in greeting before he had disappeared.
She was beginning to think that the charity walk might be her last time to make any kind of connection with him before he left Cranley, taking the chance of her exclusive story with him.
She glanced down the long driveway towards Willow Tree Hall, but there was still no sign of anyone else appearing, especially famous singers on crutches.
Smothering her irritation, she fixed on her most positive smile as she looked around the small crowd of people that had gathered at the front gates.
She recognised the WI members who had been at the meeting just over a week before. Female family members and friends had also all been roped in so that there were at least fifty of them ready to walk around the village. With the event being timed after the last lessons of the day, the children were also able to join in.
As per her idea, most people had either their bra or knickers over their normal clothes, apart from the younger participants who, like Eleanor, were wearing just their bras or, in some cases, just a pair of frilly knickers on their bottom halves.
A few enterprising souls had wrapped themselves in bandages to indicate bone cancer and there were a few heads bandaged up as well.
But the air was humming with good humour and anticipation.
‘Even in your bra, you still look good,’ moaned Megan, glancing down at her own black bra and leggings.
Eleanor checked that her white shorts were not marked. Of course she had made an effort. She didn’t want Tom to see her and flinch, although she had no idea why she wanted to impress him. She patted her head to make sure that no loose strands had come away from her French plait. She also had on her best and most waterproof make-up, in case she became hot and sweaty.
‘Don’t you ever act like a slob?’ asked Megan. ‘Eat ice cream out of a tub? Lounge around in the oldest sweatshirt you own watching soppy movies? Or is that just me?’
Eleanor shook her head. ‘I’m out every night for work and I always have to look good.’
‘We’ll have to have a girls’ night in whilst you’re still here,’ said Megan.
‘Definitely,’ said Eleanor, smiling. She had found herself growing ever closer to her friends the longer she stayed in Cranley.
The route of the charity walk that had been agreed upon would take them around the fringes of the hamlet and then along the river until they were in the grounds of Willow Tree Hall. Although it had been classed as a marathon, a distance of about five miles, all in their outfits, had been agreed upon to assist the more mature walkers.
It had only been a short time, but word had spread like wildfire about the walk and there was a huge buzz about the village. Sponsorship was, apparently, very high.
A young male journalist from the local newspaper headed over to Eleanor.
‘So?’ he asked. ‘Who’s this rumoured star that’s going to start the proceedings?’
Eleanor watched as his eyes flickered down to her bra and remained there until she felt the urge to slap him.
‘It’s a surprise,’ she replied. ‘Any minute now!’ She quickly turned her back away from his gaze at her chest and walked away. She glanced back down the driveway but there was definitely nobody in sight.
Annie shuffled over to stand next to her. ‘I’ve just called Arthur,’ she murmured. ‘He says Tom’s not in the house.’
‘Where the hell is he then?’ muttered Eleanor. ‘It’s not as if he can get lost on the way. He only had to come down the driveway. He said he would do this.’
Worse still, she had believed him. On reflection, she had thought it would take an enormous amount of persuasion to encourage Tom to start the charity walk, but it had been so easy.
Too easy, she thought with a grimace. She should have known someone as famous as Tommy King would let her down.
‘What are we going to do?’ asked Annie, her eyes wide and anxious. ‘Everyone’s expecting someone to start them off.’
Rose came over to stand by them. Eleanor was struck by how she was covered up with a dark silk shirt. Perhaps she felt too old to be wearing a bra in public.
‘What’s going on?’ she asked. ‘The natives are getting restless.’
‘Tom’s a no-show,’ Eleanor told her. ‘We haven’t got anyone famous to start them off.’
‘Nonsense!’ cried Rose, before turning to face the crowd. ‘Is everybody ready?’
A wave of anticipation and nervous giggles sped around the crowd.
‘And who are you?’ asked the journalist, holding out his phone.
‘Me?’ Rose straightened her back and lifted her chin. ‘I’m Rosemary Genevieve Harris, sister to Arthur, Earl of Cranley. My family is seventh generation and my home, this estate and the whole village have been in our name for nearly two hundred years. Shall we begin?’
With a winning smile, Rose flung off her silk shirt to reveal a pointy-cupped bodice that even Madonna would have been envious off.
There was a gasp of appreciation and shock before a small round of applause broke out.
‘Rose!’ said Annie, blushing on her behalf. ‘What are you wearing?’
‘Dolce and Gabbana, darling,’ said Rose. ‘I’ve been waiting for an opportunity to wear this for years!’
Thankfully the sight of a seventy-year-old woman in a designer leather bodice was enough to capture the journalist’s interest.
‘I don’t know
what Sam’s going to say about this,’ muttered Annie. ‘Thank god he’s away until this evening.’
‘I think she’s bloody brilliant,’ Megan told her.
‘So do I,’ said Eleanor, laughing in amazement.
‘Let the inaugural Cranley Charity Walk begin!’ cried Rose, with a flourish of her hands.
And Eleanor, Annie, Megan and the others set off.
As it was late in the afternoon, quite a lot of people were stood out on the paths and in their front gardens cheering all the walkers on.
Eleanor found that she was enjoying the chatter and cheerful atmosphere as the route took them around the village. She was pleased to see her mum clapping them as they went past. June had been quite upset that she couldn’t participate because of her broken foot but had set cups of lemonade and water along the front wall for people to help themselves to. Eleanor was pleased that her mum appeared to be in less pain as the days went by. Of course, that meant that her services as a helper were no longer as necessary. Her mum had even begun to subtly ask when she was returning to London. Eleanor had yet to think up a decent excuse and had carried on with the ‘holiday owed’ line.
She tried to use the rest of the walk to try and work through any solutions to her problems but came up with nothing, as usual.
Due to the advanced age of some of the ladies, they walked at a slow pace and therefore did not arrive at the finishing post at the back of Willow Tree Hall until just after seven o’clock in the evening.
‘Well done everybody!’ called out Arthur, standing on the patio as they all walked towards him. ‘What a marvellous undertaking. Come and have a refreshing drink inside.’
‘Gin and tonic for everyone!’ called out Rose, ushering everyone indoors.
Eleanor watched as Arthur’s grey bushy eyebrows shot upwards at the sight of his sister in her bodice, but he had the good manners not to say anything. In public, at least.
Eleanor made sure that nobody had been left behind and was just about to follow them inside when she noticed a light in the woods to her right. Someone was in the recording studio. Annie had already told her that Sam was away at a meeting until later that evening.
Which left only one person.
Tom was obviously working there, concentrating entirely on himself and not bothered in the slightest at not showing up to help start the marathon.
Okay, so she hadn’t been entirely unselfish when she had asked Tom to be involved in the walk. In fact, her main priority had been to find out more about him in the hope of writing her story but now she couldn’t help but feel annoyed at him letting everyone down.
All of her frustrations about everything that had happened recently bubbled up inside. Eleanor drew herself up straight and marched towards the barn. Pushing hard against the main door in her increasing fury, it ricocheted off the wall and bounced back towards her again with a loud bang.
As she strode inside, she realised that the noise had managed to wake Tom, who must have been fast asleep on a couch. Which made her even more angry.
‘Oh, I’m sorry!’ she snapped, going to stand next to him. ‘Did I wake you?’
‘Whattsamatter?’ he muttered, struggling to sit up.
‘Where the hell were you?’ she shouted, putting her hands on her hips.
Tom rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘I’m talking about you breaking your promise! You said you were going to open the charity walk for us!’
She had the satisfaction of watching the realisation hit right before the guilt crossed his face. ‘That was today?’ he asked, still sounding groggy.
‘No,’ she retorted. ‘I always walk around wearing just a bra!’
Tom’s eyes snapped open at her words. He quickly looked up and took in the sight of her wearing only her shorts and bra. Suddenly feeling uncomfortable under his intense stare, she crossed her arms in front of her chest. She also felt quite short without her normal heels on, wearing her trainers instead.
‘You’ve let everyone down,’ she told him, trying to take control of the situation once more
‘I’m sorry. The medication makes me sleepy.’
‘Yeah, right,’ she drawled, rolling her eyes. ‘More like you couldn’t be bothered.’
Like every other famous person she had met. He was only interested in himself.
‘I’m telling you the truth,’ he told her, sounding more irritated now.
‘I don’t believe you,’ she said. ‘And, for the record, it’s not just me you let down. It made Annie look bad and that makes me mad, because she’s the kindest, sweetest person you’ll ever come across.’
‘Is that why you only see her, what, once or twice a year?’ said Tom, standing up to tower over her. ‘Some good friend you are.’
‘I’m just busy at work.’ Eleanor was beginning to get flustered. She was feeling uncomfortable under his scrutiny. ‘But this isn’t about me,’ she managed to carry on. ‘This is about you letting her and everyone else down. Stop acting all diva-ish. It’s as if you feel like we’re all beneath you. But hey, newsflash! You’re flesh and blood just like everyone else in this village.’
He took a couple of hobbled steps to stand in front of her. ‘Where you don’t even live anymore!’
She frowned. ‘What’s that got to do with it?’
He glared down at her. ‘If this village is so great, why don’t you live here?’
‘Well, I’ve got to now that I’ve lost my job, haven’t I?’ she shouted without thinking.
Then she stared up at him, her heart hammering in her chest as she realised what she had said.
‘You can’t tell anyone about that,’ she said quickly, scratching at the eczema patch on her neck.
He raised his eyebrows. ‘Really?’
Horrified that this man knew the truth about her, Eleanor tried to leave with some dignity. She dropped her hand and straightened her back. ‘You’re just like every other so-called star,’ she told him, heading to the door. ‘You’re only interested in yourself.’
She flung open the door and marched up the path towards the house whilst grabbing her phone out of her pocket. She quickly typed out the words, I’ll have a big story on Tommy King for you by the end of the summer.
And then she sent it to Theresa, her ex-editor, in London.
That would serve him right, she thought, as she re-joined her friends and the other walkers inside the main house. So why did she feel the need to drain her glass of wine so quickly? Why were her hands itching worse than ever? And why was her heart thumping madly when surely she should be happy that she might be able salvage her career after all?
Perhaps because she wasn’t quite sure what she had just set in motion.
Chapter 14
Tom was angry with both himself and Eleanor as he headed towards the main house for dinner.
She had no right to say those things about him. She didn’t know him. Didn’t need to know him.
He groaned at his own failings. He shouldn’t have agreed to cut the ribbon for the wretched walk. The village had nothing to do with him. He didn’t know anyone there. It had only been the trigger of the word ‘cancer’ that had persuaded him to say yes.
The problem was that he was still here at Willow Tree Hall in the first place. One day had led to the next and then the next. It was time to leave before he became too close to everyone.
Still feeling irritated with himself and everything, he sat down at the dinner table in the dining room. He had tried to decline their invitation to eat with them every evening but to no avail. ‘You’re family,’ he was repeatedly told. Except he wasn’t.
He had no family. He was better off alone. That was the only way to get through life, wasn’t it? The only way to survive.
Everyone chatted about the walk, which appeared to have been a huge success, despite his lack of appearance.
Tom kept his head down and tried to get through the meal as quickly as possible.
But
, as usual, he was swept into the conversation.
‘I hope your foot isn’t too sore,’ said Arthur, looking across the table at him.
‘It’s fine,’ said Tom, realising his sullen tone of voice made him sound like a teenager. ‘Thank you.’
‘Well, darling, you were most definitely missed,’ said Rose, reaching across to help herself to more salad.
‘Yeah, where were you?’ asked Sam. ‘I hear you missed the ribbon cutting.’
‘It doesn’t matter,’ Annie quickly told him.
‘I agree,’ said Rose. ‘Mainly because I totally stole the show in my bodice.’
Sam muttered something under his breath about being glad he wasn’t there.
‘Anyway, you can come and open next year’s walk for us, Tom,’ carried on Rose. ‘Do your bit for cancer, as it were. Just wait until you hear what I’m planning to wear next time!’
But Tom had heard enough. ‘I don’t intend living here forever,’ he snapped, abruptly standing up. ‘So I won’t be here in a year’s time. In fact, I think it’s best I leave as soon as possible.’
Only the sound of a shocked silence filled the room before he quickly walked out of the room. He hobbled across the entrance hall and flung open the French doors to head out onto the patio at the back of the house. There he took gulps of fresh air to calm himself down. And then he groaned at what he had done.
He had been rude to a warm, loving family who had treated him as one of their own. They had opened their home to him and he had snapped and snarled like a surly teenager. What was wrong with him? The last thing he had ever wanted to do was hurt Sam or his family.
He sank down onto the rickety wooden bench with a heavy sigh.
‘Thought I’d find you out here.’
Tom looked up to find Sam walking across the patio towards him.
‘I’m sorry,’ said Tom. ‘I’ll apologise to the family.’
‘Don’t worry about that now,’ said Sam, sitting down next to him. ‘They understand, you know. You should have seen what they put up with from me and Will when we were younger.’
Escape to the Country Page 10
