A House to Mend a Broken Heart

by Sherlock, Alison

  ‘Oh God. Is this going to turn into a scary movie because I’m not sure I can cope.’

  ‘Look,’ she heard him say. ‘Is there anything else in here apart from boxes? Any tools or equipment?’

  She shook her head before realising that made her head feel really fuzzy. ‘Only ornaments. Some designer clothes. Oh and some very heavy books.’

  ‘I thought that perhaps there may be a saw or a drill in here. Of course, in the darkness I’ll probably end up giving myself an amputation.’

  ‘You could always start with your head,’ she muttered before breaking into giggles once more.

  There came a sound of boxes being moved around, interspersed with some loud oaths.

  ‘What are you doing?’ she asked. Her voice sounded all high and squeaky.

  ‘I wasn’t planning on standing up all night,’ she heard him say. There was the noise of more scraping and movement. ‘There’s probably enough room for two over here.’

  She shook her head in the darkness, causing yet more light-headed fuzziness.

  ‘Come on,’ said Sam. ‘Don’t you trust me?’

  She wasn’t sure about anything anymore.

  Of course, there were bound to be spiders in an old garage like this. Really large ones. And she was cold. Very cold. So she slowly stood up and stuck her hands out, groping around in the darkness for Sam.

  It turned out that Sam was also holding out his hands in front of him as he accidentally grabbed her left breast when she got near him.

  ‘Watch it!’ she hissed, backing away from him.

  ‘Sorry,’ he replied, but it sounded as if he was laughing. ‘I wasn’t actually hoping for a quick grope in the dark.’

  ‘Just watch those hands, buster,’ she told him. ‘I know karate.’ She attempted to strike a pose but only managed to whack her hand against the side of a nearby hat stand. ‘Ow!’

  ‘Come on,’ chuckled Sam. ‘Where’s your hand?’

  Their fingers finally collided. He grabbed the rest of her hand and manoeuvred her onto the makeshift seat next to him. With Sam’s large frame, there wasn’t much room and the sides of their bodies were pressed together.

  Annie sat in the dark, her head spinning round and round.

  She had to stay professional, which was quite hard having drunk a bottle of wine on an empty stomach. Why on earth of all evenings had Sam come home now, especially when she was drunk and not thinking straight? She should never have drunk the wine in the first place, of course. But she had been so shaky and upset after climbing down the ladder that she had staggered into the kitchen and gone straight to the bottle hidden in one of the cupboards.

  Then she had realised that all the glasses were packed away in the garage. So she had come outside to find them, carrying a jar of Nutella with her as her meagre dinner. But there were so many boxes that she had given up looking for a glass and just drunk the wine straight out of the bottle.

  She had no idea how long it had been until Sam had arrived but it was dark now. Both inside the garage and outside.

  *

  Sam couldn’t think straight with Annie sitting so close to him. Her subtle touch of perfume was filling his senses and he was having a hard time concentrating on the situation.

  ‘Why don’t you want to be king of the castle?’ she suddenly blurted out.

  ‘What do you mean?’ he asked.

  ‘Earl, Lord, whatever it is. You know, the inheritance.’

  ‘Oh. That.’ He sighed. Perhaps he could be honest in the dark. ‘My father didn’t want it either. He just wanted to see the world.’

  When his parents had been killed in the car crash, it was only much later that he had discovered that his dad had bought a house in Australia with the intention of emigrating all four of them out there. Far away from Willow Tree Hall and his grandfather.

  ‘But you’re not your father, are you?’

  Annie’s words hung in the darkness around him.

  He had begun to see as the years went by that his own rebellion into the music world had been a way of escaping from the inheritance.

  ‘No, I’m not,’ he finally replied. ‘But I can see how much of a burden it can be to have this place.’ A burden his grandad had had to carry alone for so many years. Maybe too many, now he knew how heavy a responsibility it was.

  Annie shifted slightly next to him, her leg brushing his.

  ‘What about you? What are you doing here?’ he asked, trying to ignore the tingling in his leg from her touch.

  ‘I’m stuck here with you, remember?’

  ‘Not in the dark but you know what I mean. Why choose to stay here of all places?’

  ‘I don’t expect you to understand,’ she told him.

  ‘Look, I know you don’t trust me. But we’re in this together, aren’t we?’

  ‘I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore. Not even about how to be a housekeeper.’

  ‘Well, you’ve done all right so far,’ he replied.

  But he could feel her shaking her head in disagreement, her long hair trailing across his chest.

  *

  Annie was beginning to feel very tired, the effects of a bottle of wine on an empty stomach starting to hit home. It was very hard to think straight when Sam’s muscly thigh was pressing up against hers.

  ‘I just don’t understand where you’ve been all this time and how you could leave your grandfather for so long,’ she told him, her head feeling heavy.

  ‘Nor do I.’ He gave a soft sigh. ‘It’s a long story.’

  She couldn’t seem to prevent her head from flopping onto his shoulder. ‘And you seem to be a really nice guy which makes it even more confusing. You’re good-looking and have obviously done well for yourself. Even if your girlfriend is a bit of a diva. But you do love your grandad, no matter what you say. I can see it in your eyes.’ She yawned. ‘It’s all very confusing.’

  ‘For me as well, if it makes you feel better.’

  ‘A little,’ she murmured, closing her eyes. ‘I’m so tired.’

  ‘Go to sleep,’ he told her, putting his arm around her so that they could both lean back against the brick wall behind them.

  She yawned again and was just sinking into drowsiness when she heard him say, ‘You think I’m good-looking?’

  ‘Only because it’s dark in here,’ she told him before falling asleep.

  Chapter 17

  Annie woke up with a start, her head and heart both thumping loudly.

  Where on earth was she? And why was her body aching so much?

  A faint light was coming from somewhere. She looked around in a daze and slowly remembered where she was. Trapped in the garage with Sam.

  Daylight was beginning to appear through cracks in the roof tiles. Her neck cricked as she turned to look at Sam on whom she had apparently been leaning all night.

  He was equally groggy having just woken up.

  ‘Morning,’ he mumbled sleepily, his blue eyes still drowsy as they stared into hers.

  He was so close to her that she could see the five o’clock shadow where he hadn’t yet shaved.

  Embarrassed from having him so near, she went to move away, causing her foot to come into contact with an empty wine bottle, which rolled slowly across the floor. Now mortified, she staggered to a standing position.

  ‘Morning,’ she eventually replied, stretching her stiff body. Her head felt like it had been run over and her mouth was parched.

  ‘I think my spine is broken,’ muttered Sam, leaning forward to rub his back with his right hand.

  He slowly stood up and they both looked at each other in the morning light. He looked pretty good first thing in the morning, was her first thought. Unfortunately, she knew how bad she probably looked.

  Sam smiled and picked something out of her hair. Annie hoped it wasn’t a spider. Although, if she was honest, she was less concerned about the spider than by the feeling that passed through her when Sam’s fingers touched her.

  They both jumped
at the sound of an engine.

  ‘It’s them!’ said Annie, looking around for something to whack against the door.

  But Sam had beaten her to it and was using the hat stand to bang the door and was hollering, ‘Hey! We’re stuck in here!’

  After what felt like an age, there were finally footsteps getting louder on the other side of the door.

  ‘Hello!’ called out Sam once more.

  ‘Who’s that?’ came a confused voice in return.

  ‘It’s Bert the gardener,’ Annie explained to Sam before shouting out, ‘Hi Bert!’

  ‘It’s Samuel and Annie,’ yelled Sam.

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Oh God,’ muttered Sam. ‘How deaf is he?’

  Annie grimaced. ‘It’s me, Bert!’ she shouted. ‘It’s Annie! We’re stuck in here! Can you pull the handle?’

  There was a short silence whilst Annie and Sam shared an agonising wait. Finally, there was the sound of scraping metal and some grunting from the other side. At last, the door swung free.

  ‘What were you doing in there then?’ asked Bert, standing in front of them and looking confused.

  ‘We got stuck last night,’ said Annie, blinking at the harsh morning sunlight. ‘You’re early this morning.’

  ‘Need to check on my leeks,’ he replied, wandering off.

  Annie and Sam exchanged a ghost of a smile before they began to walk across the driveway.

  ‘How about we get the kettle on?’ said Sam.

  For once, she abandoned her traditional servants’ entrance and followed him in through the front door. And that was when she remembered the state of the place and the fact that the stairs had been demolished.

  Sam stood beside her before saying in an angry tone, ‘What the hell’s been happening here?’

  Annie was too busy quivering in fear and trying to gain her breath to reply.

  ‘I can’t believe the mess,’ he carried on. ‘You didn’t say it was this bad!’

  ‘Yes, I did,’ she told him, breaking into tears. She was exhausted and hungover.

  Sam blew out a deep sigh.

  ‘It happened when I was upstairs yesterday,’ she told him. ‘I had to come down the ladder on my own. I thought I was going to fall. That’s why I needed a drink and hid in the garage.’ Annie wiped the tears that were streaming down her cheeks. ‘I’m sorry it’s such a mess. I can’t handle it anymore. I really can’t.’

  ‘It’s OK,’ he said, pulling her against him. ‘You’re not on your own anymore.’

  *

  Although he was trying to be strong for Annie, Sam was horrified as he stared over her shoulder at the chaos that confronted him. This wasn’t restoration. It was demolition, as Alex had noted a few weeks previously.

  The builders that he alone had hired had almost destroyed Willow Tree Hall.

  The staircase that he had run up and down as a child. The bannister that he and Will had used to slide down. Gone forever. Bits of cornice were hanging off the ceiling. Windows were missing. There was dust, rubble and dirt everywhere.

  Annie had stepped away to try and stop crying. But she was still looking upset. Furthermore, he suddenly realised how tired she appeared and how much of a strain she must have been under.

  He had just spent the night holding her in his arms. Yes, she had actually passed out on him but he hadn’t minded. He had found himself relaxing in the knowledge that he was protecting her.

  But that had just been one night. He hadn’t sheltered her or Willow Tree Hall from this mess on a daily basis. It was all his fault. He was an idiot. He had put his faith in the wrong person. He should have trusted Annie, not Kevin the builder.

  He only just registered the sound of the builders’ vans coming down the driveway.

  ‘Right,’ he told Annie, trying to keep his emotions in check. ‘You stay in here. I’ll deal with this. Because, right now, our cowboy builder is riding off into the sunset. As quickly as possible.’

  But he couldn’t stop his anger from overflowing when he finally came face to face with Kevin in the middle of the driveway. ‘What have you done to my home?’ he shouted. ‘Do you know what you’ve managed to destroy? There have been six generations of my family living here and never in all that time, during wars and everything else, has it ever been in this state. This is my heritage that you have nearly razed to the ground!’

  With the words roaring out of his mouth, he finally realised the truth that had been buried deep within. He had come close to the brink but in the end the penny had dropped. He finally understood about the house. Willow Tree Hall had managed, at last, to get under his skin and become a living, breathing home to him.

  With his head still spinning from that realisation, he found that he was grateful to find Annie coming to stand next to him. He could feel her silent approval and support for him.

  ‘We most definitely no longer require your services,’ he carried on, looking imperiously down at Kevin. ‘Your work is shoddy, lazy, unprofessional and most likely unethical as well. You will not receive a single penny more from me.’

  But Kevin wasn’t giving up that easily, despite his face turning an unattractive shade of puce at the thought of losing his illustrious clients. Or, more likely, the weekly pay cheques. ‘You’ll struggle to find someone to replace me,’ he blustered.

  ‘Of that I have no doubt,’ Sam told him. ‘But I’ll try my best to be brave about your departure.’

  Kevin took a step forward, an unpleasant look on his face. ‘Go to hell,’ he snarled.

  ‘Already here,’ said Annie, stepping forward to wave her hand around at the piles of rubble surrounding the house. ‘Thanks to you.’

  In the end, Kevin Jacobs gave up and drove away in his grubby white van, the remainder of his builders following the smoky exhaust fumes up the driveway.

  Sam turned around to face Annie. ‘How did I do?’

  She gave him a soft smile. ‘I think you’ll make a very good earl.’

  Sam found himself frozen at her words. There were no more excuses. There was no going back. The responsibility thudded deep within. He felt overwhelmed with the 200 year history of the manor. The place had heritage. It was important. It was all his.

  And he was completely clueless. But there was one person who understood about the responsibility. He had been so busy proving his grandfather wrong that he had forgotten one of life’s basic rules. He hadn’t trusted his family and had left them far behind whilst he ran away.

  It was time to talk to his grandad. It was time to start over. It was time that Willow Tree Hall got its prodigal grandson back. For good.

  *

  After Sam had left to go and visit Arthur, Annie slumped down at the kitchen table.

  The house was a mess. There weren’t even any stairs. She had given up and drunk wine instead of dealing with it. She had let down Arthur, Rose, Sam and Will. The people that called Willow Tree Hall their home.

  She should never have come to the house in the first place. She should never have lied about being a housekeeper. She had failed.

  She picked up the phone and called Megan. ‘I’ve mucked up. Big time.’

  Then she went on to tell her friend about the previous evening.

  ‘So let me get this straight,’ said Megan. ‘Sam found you swigging wine from a bottle like some sad singleton? Next thing we know, you’ll be writing all your calories down in a diary.’

  ‘I think I drank all my calorie allowance last night.’ Annie sighed. ‘Can I come and stay on your sofa for a bit?’

  ‘Of course you can,’ Megan told her. ‘But you can’t just leave without telling anyone.’

  ‘I know,’ replied Annie. ‘I’ll call you later when it’s over.’

  She knew that it was time. Time to confess to her lies. Time to confess to her complete and utter ineptitude. Time to finally move on with her life.

  So why was she crying so hard with the thought of leaving?

  She loved Arthur and Rose. They were like surrogat
e grandparents to her. Of course she would be upset to leave them.

  But Sam? She sat back in her chair as the shocking realisation hit her. How had she not realised that somewhere along the way she had begun to care for him? She thought of how proud she had been when he had stood up to Kevin the builder. How thrilled she had been when he had briefly held her earlier that morning when she had been upset. How much she missed him when he was away.

  And once he found out how much she had lied to his family, he would hate her forever.

  Chapter 18

  Sam took a deep breath before stepping into the wing of the Elm Trees nursing home where Arthur was now staying.

  It was certainly far more welcoming, homely place than the NHS hospital where his grandfather had had his operation. Large bedrooms with en-suite bathrooms were occupied by various elderly patients. The place had soft carpets and lots of cosy lounges filled with armchairs. It was a place for respite care. For peace and for recovery.

  So on his first visit, Sam was somewhat surprised to hear what sounded like a rowdy exchange taking place in one of the lounges. He hoped it wasn’t keeping Arthur awake a few doors along the corridor. But when he went to walk past the lounge, there was a group of six or so elderly gentlemen cheering and laughing.

  ‘Come on, Silver!’ shouted a grey-haired man swaying from side to side on crutches.

  ‘Don’t you mean, Hi-Ho Silver!’ said a familiar voice.

  As he drew closer, Sam realised that his grandad was sitting in a chair, holding a small radio on which a horse race appeared to be blaring out. A mix of cheers and groans rang out as the winners were read out.

  Sam was saddened to see his grandad’s smile slip from his face as he spotted him standing nearby.

  ‘Watch out, lads,’ said Arthur. ‘My grandson’s here to keep me in check so you’d better hop it.’

  ‘I can’t hop anywhere,’ said the man on the crutches with a grin.

  ‘It’s tea and cake time anyway,’ said one of the others. ‘We’ll keep a piece of Battenberg back for you, Arthur.’

  The group slowly dispersed, leaving Sam and his grandad alone.