A House to Mend a Broken Heart

by Sherlock, Alison

  ‘Good morning,’ she finally managed to reply, still out of breath.

  ‘Is there any coffee?’ he asked, obviously enjoying her mortification.

  She realised it was probably the first time he had smiled at her since they had met. The rest of the time his admittedly handsome face had been creased into a frown of disapproval.

  ‘Only instant,’ she told him, pointing to the nearby jar.

  As casually as she could, she grabbed the nearby sweatshirt and whipped it over her head to cover herself up. God, she hoped none of her pyjama buttons had come undone. What a nightmare.

  She had to try and be more professional, she reminded herself. More like an actual housekeeper. Like Mrs Hughes in Downton Abbey but without the Scottish accent. And forty or so years younger, obviously.

  But then why the hell should she worry? Sam was only a temporary visitor. As far as she was concerned, the quicker he left, the better for everyone.

  She muted the song that was still playing on her phone, leaving behind an extremely awkward silence between them.

  As she began to edge towards the doorway, he turned around from switching on the kettle.

  ‘So, I was thinking that you must have trained to be a housekeeper quite early on after school?’ he asked. ‘I mean, to take over a vast estate such as this one would require lots of experience on your CV.’

  She felt a cold chill creep over her. Did he know? Had he guessed? He was definitely digging, but she wasn’t going to give him any information. It wasn’t his business. If he had been around more often, then perhaps she could have trusted him. His younger brother, Will, had at least visited a couple of times, although that was pretty infrequent as well. Still, it was more than Sam had bothered to do.

  She was just thinking up the right lie to tell him when his phone rang. Literally, saved by the bell, she thought.

  He grimaced as he looked at the screen. ‘Nobody ever said that being Tommy King’s manager would bring about a quiet life,’ he said aloud to no one in particular.

  Thankfully he had already picked up the call and didn’t see her face blanch and pale.

  She rushed out of the room and upstairs, googling Sam’s name on her phone along the way. How could she have not checked what he did for a living?

  She couldn’t believe it and almost dropped the phone when his name came up. That uptight, stuffed shirt of a man was a manager in the music business? Oh no. Surely not.

  Feeling increasingly panicky, she scrolled through the names of the people he managed. Tommy King. Well, that was vaguely impressive, she supposed, considering Tommy’s global superstar status. Who else? A couple of indie type singers. Those leather-clad rockers Hazy Weekend, who had only ever had one big hit with that awful Christmas song that everyone loved so much.

  She desperately scoured the page for the familiar name. His name. And sank down onto her bed in relief when he wasn’t mentioned.

  What a nightmare. It was all too close to home. Literally.

  *

  By the time Sam finished his phone call, Annie had returned, this time dressed in jeans and a bright blue hoodie. He noted that her cheeks were still pink, presumably from embarrassment of being found dancing around the kitchen. To Taylor Swift, no less!

  There should have been nothing attractive about baggy red pyjamas covered in penguins. Nothing that should have made his pulse race like that. And yet, the way she moved…

  He drained his mug of coffee which was almost cold and listened to his growling stomach. He headed towards the pantry which, he assumed, had remained in the same place near the back door. Except the pantry was almost empty, if you didn’t count the mice who were helping themselves to the cereal boxes. He decided against cornflakes with an extra furry topping. He then opened and closed the fridge door as it wheezed and clattered into the silence, presumably protesting as to the lack of food in there.

  He became irritated once more by Annie’s ineptitude with regard to looking after his family.

  ‘Why is there no food in this house?’ he asked.

  Annie was just making herself a coffee. She hadn’t offered to make him a refill, he noticed. ‘I haven’t been to the supermarket lately,’ she muttered, not making eye contact. ‘There’s cereal if you want.’

  ‘And another thing,’ carried on Sam. ‘My bedroom was freezing last night. I couldn’t light the fire because I think the flue is blocked with bird nests. Why hasn’t the chimney been swept in time for winter?’

  ‘It just hasn’t been in use for a long time,’ she replied, in a sulky tone.

  ‘Well, it needs to be used now. It’s a bloody disgrace. Get someone out here today

  ‘Look,’ she told him. ‘Maybe Arthur chose to put his tenants’ needs before his own.’

  ‘Yes. I understand that but surely it would have made sense for you to have planned to have all the flues swept before the colder days arrive?’

  ‘I realise that but I can’t because…’ Annie’s sentence faded into the air.

  And then he understood. ‘Because there’s been no money to pay anyone?’ he prompted.

  Annie took a beat before finally nodding.

  Sam immediately regretted his outburst as he realised how bad things must have become. He thought that it was the big money that his grandad had been unable to find to repair the house. But it turned out that even the day-to-day running of the house was on a very short shoestring.

  No wonder the stress of all of this had caused such a strain on his grandad’s heart.

  Then he thought of something else. ‘Are you still being paid?’

  Annie shuffled from foot to foot, staring at the floor. ‘The payment bounced and I didn’t have the heart to tell Arthur,’ she eventually muttered.

  Sam frowned. ‘How long ago was this?’

  She sighed before telling him, ‘Three months ago.’

  He was shocked. ‘So how have you been buying food to feed you all?’

  Annie shrugged her shoulders. ‘I have some savings.’

  He was beginning to think that he had completely misread Annie. She had used up her own money to feed his family.

  He shook his head sadly and drew out his wallet. ‘This should be enough to restock the larder at least,’ he told her, picking out a wodge of twenty-pound notes that he had withdrawn at the airport only the previous day.

  ‘I don’t need your money,’ she told him, looking all stiff and awkward.

  ‘Well, you need to eat, don’t you?’ he replied. ‘If not, I most certainly do and am sure Aunt Rose would appreciate some food as well.’

  ‘Nonsense!’ said his aunt, arriving in the kitchen right on cue. ‘How else am I to keep my hourglass figure?’

  ‘Good morning,’ said Annie.

  Sam watched as she broke into a broad smile and knew that he would never receive such a greeting. But he was pleased to see his aunt looking a little better. Thanks to a lifetime spent devoted to the fashion industry, she had a vast amount of designer clothes to draw on, although she had still chosen to wear a drab but thick brown jumper and trousers, presumably to stave off the extreme cold inside the house. But at least she was wearing a bright pink woollen scarf and a few long ropes of gold necklaces around her neck. That was more like the Aunt he knew and loved.

  ‘Good morning Aunty,’ said Sam, before turning his attention back to Annie. His outstretched hand still held out the money for her.

  With a sigh, she finally took it from him with obvious reluctance. ‘Thank you.’

  He knew it shouldn’t have come to this. The situation should never have got this bad.

  ‘Has anyone rung the hospital this morning?’ asked Rose.

  Sam nodded. ‘Will just rang and updated me. Grandad had a good night and is being moved up to a ward this morning.’

  ‘Thank goodness,’ said Rose, with a teary smile. ‘Now, do you think these shoes go with this scarf?’

  Sam looked at Annie. ‘I think that’s directed at you, not me.’


  Annie nodded. ‘You look lovely.’

  Rose looked pleased. ‘I want to look good for the hospital this morning. William promised to take me in first thing. Some of these doctors are really quite dashing. We should set you up with one, Annie.’

  ‘Look, can we forget about romance and get back to the more pressing matter of money,’ snapped Sam.

  Rose held up a hand. ‘A lady doesn’t discuss finances on an empty stomach.’ She gave Annie a theatrical wink.

  As Annie went across to pour out a cup of tea for Rose, Sam sank onto a kitchen chair. ‘I don’t get it. Nobody’s getting paid. The place is falling apart. This estate could be worth, I don’t know, millions. Why not just sell?’

  Rose blinked in disbelief at she stared at her great-nephew. ‘Sell? Of course we won’t sell! It’s fine the way it is.’

  Sam had expected that kind of reaction and just shook his head sadly. ‘I need to talk to Grandad about all this. I’ll go and see him this afternoon.’

  ‘Don’t you go upsetting him when he’s just had a major operation,’ said Rose, looking stern. ‘And if the doctors are telling us that he’s got to relax for the sake of his heart then they’ll be no talk of selling up today either. Or any other day, come to think of it. I insist you take Annie with you.’

  Sam glanced over at Annie. He didn’t need a bodyguard. This was something that he and his grandfather needed to talk about on their own… in private.

  ‘I need to take him some pyjamas and personal bits anyway,’ said Annie, jutting out her chin in defiance.

  Looking from her strict face to his Aunt’s, Sam realised he had no choice.

  Chapter 7

  Later that day, Annie threw open the door to the garage and watched as Sam stared in amazement at the ancient green Jaguar.

  ‘He’s still got this old thing?’ he asked, using the key to open the car door.

  Annie raised one eyebrow at him. ‘It’s got more wheels than yours does at the moment,’ she murmured.

  Sam turned to glance back at the broken Porsche before his attention was distracted by his mobile ringing. He sighed.

  ‘I’d better take this,’ he told Annie, looking uncomfortable. ‘Otherwise she’ll just keep calling.’

  ‘That’s OK,’ she said. ‘I can drive.’

  She knew he was about to argue about it so she quickly moved round to the driver’s side before he could speak. Annie had picked up the sense that Sam really didn’t want to take her with him to the hospital but she would have laid down on the bonnet if she had had to. She was desperate to make sure that Arthur was OK and that Sam wouldn’t bully him into doing something crazy like sell Willow Tree Hall.

  She slid behind the wheel and prayed the old car would start up. It just needed a bit of encouragement and a swift prayer for the engine to roar into life.

  Having been away working on cruise ships for ten years, she had never needed a car before. Thankfully, Arthur’s own driving abilities had been limited and he was more than happy to lend the car to her whenever she needed to go shopping or when she dropped Rose off to her cribbage club – although Annie had always suspected that the club was just a cover to have a good old gossip.

  Sam slid into his seat, raising his eyebrows in alarm as he heard the motor turn over and rattle loudly but he said nothing to her. He was too busy trying to placate the person on the other end of the line.

  ‘You’ll be fine,’ he was saying in a hushed tone. ‘Yes, I know it’s the MTV awards. Just make sure they do a proper soundcheck first.’

  It was obvious he was talking to another one of the singers that he managed. There was a fair amount of what sounded like shrieking on the other end of the line. Whoever she was, thought Annie, she was very demanding.

  ‘Yes, I know I said I’d be there,’ said Sam, trying to interrupt the incessant wailing down the phone. ‘But my grandad is in hospital and I’ve got to stay here. I sent you a text yesterday, remember? No, I won’t get there in time for tonight. You’ll be fine.’

  The diva on the other end of the line continued moaning for the first couple of miles of their journey until Sam finally managed to say, ‘Look, I’ll call you later. You’ll be fine.’ He then added in a hushed tone. ‘Yeah, er, you too.’

  Annie just about managed to stop her mouth dropping open in shock. He was obviously talking to his girlfriend. It was amazing that someone as stroppy as him could even be attractive to anyone. She glanced over. Not that he was ugly or anything. Maybe even a little bit handsome, she supposed, along with tall and dark. But he really wasn’t a very pleasant person.

  A silence followed after he had hung up until Sam cleared his throat. ‘That was Cassandra,’ he finally admitted.

  Annie’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Oh,’ she replied, not knowing what else to say.

  She couldn’t believe that his girlfriend was the famous popstar. Only recently discovered, Cassandra was a blonde American singer who was beginning to rival Beyoncé for hit records.

  The steering wheel shuddered as she turned the Jaguar around a sharp bend in the country lane.

  Sam clutched his seat in alarm. ‘When was the last time this thing had an MOT?’ he snapped.

  ‘I honestly don’t know,’ she told him, truthfully. ‘But it drives OK if you don’t press too hard on the brakes.’

  ‘And then what happens?’

  ‘Sometimes the brake pedal comes off.’

  He shook his head. ‘It’s a bloody death trap.’

  ‘It’s all we have,’ she told him, feeling irritated once more. Was everything a problem to this man?

  *

  There was a draught going straight down Sam’s neck. The passenger window didn’t seem to fully close no matter how much he fiddled with the handle. And he didn’t even want to think about the fact that the brakes might not work. He would have to get the car safe and roadworthy once more. Yet another item to be added to his ever-increasing to-be-fixed list.

  He sighed and stared out of the window, trying to enjoy the countryside view which he had used to love. How many times had he and Will picked blackberries straight from the hedgerows and headed back to the Hall covered in purple-stained clothes? He realised with a frown that most of the fruits had already been picked. Autumn was definitely here.

  He had always loved the cycle of the seasons with their changing beauty, especially in the countryside. He had missed so much these past few years by his endless plane journeys and uninspiring hotel rooms. By the end of October, the nights would draw in a little more and there would begin to be a chill in the night air. He wondered if the promised extreme cold and heavy snow would arrive that winter. The forecasters had been going on and on about the predicted bad weather. But by then he would be in Australia on another tour and nowhere near Willow Tree Hall, he realised.

  He would need to have things settled with his grandfather by then. Not their relationship, of course. That was probably beyond repair. But where his grandad was going to live and what would happen to the estate. There was no way the family could stay at Willow Tree Hall now, especially with winter ahead.

  He felt the gloom descend over him as the hospital came into view. He hated hospitals. Had done ever since that long night when they had waited for news on their parents. He could still feel Will, all of twelve years old, crying in his arms. Could still feel the devastation and pain of losing them both.

  He shouldn’t have blamed Arthur. It wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t anyone’s fault but the driver who had had too many beers before getting behind the wheel. Just a stupid car accident. But Sam had been full of grief and hormones at fifteen years old. And where his grandmother had been warm and comforting, his grandfather had been gruff and strict on both the boys.

  The gulf between them had widened until he had left home for college and he never came back, apart from the occasional visit.

  But now he needed to talk to his grandad, although they hadn’t had a conversation in nearly a year.

  Perhaps it was time to
make amends.

  Will had already rung him after his earlier visit with their Aunt. Arthur was groggy but comfortable. He had been placed temporarily in a single room which at least would give them all a bit of privacy. Sam had felt relieved at the time, but watching his grandfather’s face light up now upon seeing Annie immediately aggravated him for some unknown reason.

  ‘How are you today?’ asked Annie in a soft tone.

  ‘I think I’ll leave the marathon until later in the week,’ said Arthur, with a sleepy smile.

  Sam was surprised at his grandfather’s jocular mood. A rare occurrence at the best of times. He looked weak and pale after the previous day’s operation.

  Annie opened up the small cupboard next to the bed and put away some spare clothes and toiletries. ‘Have you got a newspaper or anything else to read?’ said Annie, looking around.

  Arthur shook his head. ‘Not sure I’ve got the energy.’

  ‘I’ll get one from the shop in the foyer anyway, shall I? It’ll give you something to do. And we need to set up your television. I’ll buy one of those viewing cards. You don’t want to miss the new Midsomer Murders later, do you?’

  ‘That might be nice,’ said Arthur. ‘If I can stay awake that long.’

  They exchanged a smile before Annie turned to leave the room. She slowed down as she passed Sam, glaring at him in warning.

  Looking away from her, Sam watched as his grandad’s face fell into a frown once they were left alone.

  ‘Are you still here?’ said Arthur, in a weary tone. ‘I thought you’d be back in New York or some far-flung place as usual.’

  ‘Yes, I’m still here,’ said Sam, trying not to clench his teeth as he spoke. He walked slowly towards the bed. ‘Someone has to keep any eye on both you and the Hall.’

  ‘Annie can do that.’ Arthur closed his eyes.

  ‘Annie’s just a housekeeper,’ murmured Sam. ‘She’s not family.’

  ‘Rubbish.’ Arthur’s eyes snapped open. ‘Of course she’s family! Her father was the best gamekeeper we ever had.’

  Sam was startled. ‘Her father?’