A House to Mend a Broken Heart

by Sherlock, Alison

  Anyway, it didn’t matter. His time with Annie had reminded him that there were far more pleasant people to be around than his current girlfriend. He wanted someone nicer, more humble, funny and respectful of his family.

  The trouble was that he was beginning to think that the ideal woman lived in the attic of Willow Tree Hall.

  *

  As the bathroom in the staff quarters still didn’t have any running water, Annie had to use one of the few working ones in the upper west wing. She had splashed her face with cold water but it still hadn’t calmed down her hot cheeks or racing pulse. She had stared at her reflection in the old, cracked mirror above the sink. It was just a crush that was all.

  The memory of Sam’s face close to hers came to mind. She had wanted so badly to kiss him. Had never wanted anything more. But she couldn’t think about him this way. She mustn’t. He had been so kind. She mustn’t jeopardise their fragile new friendship.

  With a soft sigh, she left the bathroom and had just reached the landing when Cassandra arrived at the top of the stairs and gave a start upon seeing her.

  ‘What are you doing skulking around?’ she snapped, her long silk dressing gown wafting behind her like a wicked Queen’s cloak. ‘Stealing, I suppose.’

  Annie rolled her eyes. She didn’t need to take any more verbal abuse from someone who sang as badly as that. She didn’t reply, instead turning to head towards the staircase.

  ‘I want full compensation for those boots, you know,’ called out Cassandra from behind her.

  Annie stopped walking and turned around. ‘I thought Sam had offered to pay for them.’

  ‘It wasn’t his fault,’ replied Cassandra. ‘Besides, he’s done enough covering up for your mistakes these past few weeks. Look at the place. It’s a mess. He’s had to work overtime just to try and get things straight again.’

  Annie ground her teeth, trying not to snap back.

  ‘I’ve seen the way you look at him,’ carried on Cassandra, walking slowly towards her. ‘I know you’ve got ideas above your station. Want to be the next Countess of this crappy house, do you? Well, let me tell you something, little Miss Nobody. You’re just a housekeeper. Only staff. The lowest of the low.’ Cassandra stood in front of her, scowling down at her with a sneer. ‘He would never look at someone like you. You’re nothing.’

  Annie took a quick intake of breath. It was the same words she had heard over and over during her teenage years. She didn’t matter, her stepfather had told her. She wasn’t important. She was a nobody. And yet, somewhere deep inside, she didn’t quite believe that anymore. Arthur and Rose cared for her, she knew that. And Sam’s words about how she was the best person for the job kept repeating in her mind. Maybe she was all right. Maybe she was better than she had been giving herself credit for. Besides, she had reached her limit of belittlement for one lifetime. So she lifted up her chin and stared into Cassandra’s cold, pinched face as she spoke.

  ‘First off, I might just be a housekeeper but I am loved by this amazing family who live in this house that you choose to look down on.’

  The singer looked a bit startled at the intensity in Annie’s voice.

  ‘Second,’ carried on Annie. ‘Sam Harris is a good man who you most definitely don’t deserve.’

  ‘I suppose you think he’s more your type, do you?’ cooed Cassandra.

  Annie ignored her. ‘All I know is that he is way out of your reach. He is a decent, kind, caring person. All qualities that you most definitely do not possess.’

  Cassandra went to reply but Annie didn’t give her the chance.

  ‘Lastly, and perhaps most importantly, I heard you singing down there.’ Annie found herself smiling at Cassandra’s shocked expression. ‘So why don’t you take your bony arse, your lack of talent and your couldn’t-sing-your-way-out-of-a-paper-bag god-awful voice and get out of my face!’

  Not waiting for a response, Annie abruptly turned and walked up the stairs to the staff quarters grinning from ear to ear. She might be sacked in the morning but for one brief glorious moment she had stood up to a bully and won.

  It would almost be worth it.

  Chapter 23

  Annie’s euphoria at standing up to Cassandra had quickly faded once morning had broken. She hadn’t slept at all well and was so late heading downstairs that the builders had already started work. Despite it being the weekend, they were working hard to get the most important tasks finished in time for winter.

  She braced herself before going into the kitchen. Expecting to find Cassandra in full diva whine mode and demanding her dismissal, she was relieved to discover that only Rose was in there.

  ‘Good morning,’ said Annie. ‘You’ve arrived bright and early today.’

  ‘Glad I did,’ said Rose smiling. ‘I would have missed out on all the excitement if I hadn’t popped in this morning.’

  Annie yawned and poured herself a tea from the pot that Rose had made earlier. ‘What excitement?’

  ‘Ding dong the witch is dead,’ announced Rose.

  The mug of steaming hot tea stopped en route to Annie’s mouth. ‘Did you watch The Wizard of Oz again last night?’

  ‘No,’ said Rose, leaning forward to whisper. ‘Samuel has given his girlfriend the heave-ho. She left just as I was arriving and thank goodness for that! Stomped out of here in a right huff. You know, she had no manners considering she’s supposed to be famous. These current so-called celebrities could learn a bit from the likes of Audrey Hepburn, I’m telling you.’

  As Rose chattered on, Annie digested the news that Sam had broken up with Cassandra. She knew that she should be pleased that the ghastly singer had left. But a small part of her was even more happy that Sam was now single. And that was very very bad.

  Thankfully Will arrived downstairs at that moment and disrupted her chain of thought. It was nice to have him back at the hall for the weekend after so long.

  ‘Good morning,’ he said to them both. ‘What are you doing here, Aunty?’

  ‘I came to tell young Annie about my hot date last night.’

  Will smiled before helping himself to a cup of tea.

  ‘Oh yes, you had that date with the church organist,’ said Annie. ‘How did it go?’

  ‘He was the best sex I’ve had in a long time,’ replied Rose beaming.

  Will spat his tea out all over the kitchen table. ‘Aunty!’ he spluttered, wiping the drink dripping off his square jaw.

  ‘Shall I tell you about the size of his organ?’ said Rose, gurgling with laughter at Will’s horrified face.

  Annie was still smiling as she headed over to the sink to grab a cloth to wipe up the table. She glanced out of the window to where the first frost of autumn had appeared overnight. The bushes and hedgerows glistened white in the early morning sun. Mist rose from the cold, hard ground. The birds tweeted their approval in the trees at the magical sight.

  Winter was just around the corner she realised with a sudden pang. Would everything be ready for Arthur when he came home for Christmas?

  Thankfully Mr Reynolds’ team were hard workers and there were small signs of progress throughout the house. The electricians and plumbers had arrived, concentrating on Arthur and Rose’s bedrooms and bathrooms first. A new front door had arrived and was being fitted that day. It was an exact replacement for the original double door, apart from the lack of woodworm and draughts.

  She found Sam later to discuss the next steps of the renovation that would happen when he left to go back on tour the following week. He was a bit subdued which at first she put down to having split up with Cassandra. But then he was overtaken by a couple of fits of coughing during their conversation.

  Annie raised her eyebrows. ‘That doesn’t sound good.’

  ‘I’ll be fine,’ he told her, grabbing a bottle of water. ‘At least I don’t have to leave here until next week.’

  ‘I’m sorry about you and Cassandra splitting up,’ she said.

  ‘Then you’re the only one who is,’
he replied, stifling a yawn. ‘I feel quite relieved, to be honest. If I didn’t feel so tired, that is.’

  However two days later, , he was looking pale and Annie wasn’t sure he was going to be able to fly anywhere anytime soon.

  ‘I feel truly grim,’ he told her, sinking down on a kitchen chair.

  She reached out and felt his pale, clammy forehead. ‘You’ve got a temperature.’

  ‘I’ll be OK,’ he replied, standing up. ‘Besides, there’s too much to do today to sit around and feel sorry for myself.’

  ‘Rubbish,’ she told him. ‘The builders are able to get on with things fine without you. Go and lie down.’

  Later that day, Annie took a couple of rubbish bags out to the skip. She shivered in the cold temperature. It would be time to dig out her hat and gloves soon but she relished the spectacular autumn tints around the grounds. Even the leaves of the willow tree had turned a deep yellow and were beginning to drop. As a light breeze wafted a few more to the ground, it was like watching falling gold in the low sunlight.

  A sweet smoky smell of a bonfire wafted into her consciousness. She was certain that Bert the gardener wasn’t in that day.

  Heading around the corner, she found Sam attempting to chop up some of the wooden joists that had been taken out of the house and put them on the fire.

  ‘What the hell are you doing?’ she said, easily managing to wrestle the axe from him.

  Sam slumped onto a nearby woodpile and nearly fell off it. ‘I thought I would sweat out the fever.’

  It was freezing cold and she could see his breath in the air as he spoke.

  ‘In this weather?’ She shook her head. ‘I thought you were brighter than that. Come on. Come with me.’

  He managed to pull himself up to a standing position but swayed slightly. She put her arm around his back and moved him towards the house. Under her hand, she could feel his body trembling, damp from sweat. She opened up the front door and pushed him across the entrance hall. ‘Go and have a shower and then get into some warm, dry clothes.’ He opened his mouth to protest but she held up a hand. ‘Don’t even bother. Go on. Get up those stairs.’

  Checking up on him an hour later, she found Sam sitting on his bed, with a towel wrapped around his waist. She tried not to stare at his toned biceps and washboard abs, especially as he was shivering and looked slightly dazed.

  Annie stood by the bed, holding out the thermometer that she had brought with her. She put it in his mouth and waited for the beep.

  ‘You’re temperature’s sky-high,’ she told him, peering down at the reading. ‘Into bed for you.’

  As he moved about, a shaft of low sunlight touched upon the soft dark hairs that covered his chest. She found the hairs on the back of her neck began to rise in anticipation of a feeling that she was still trying to avoid. ‘Have you got a T-shirt or something to put on?’ said Annie, suppressing a gulp.

  Sam pointed at the suitcase nearby.

  ‘We’re going to need to order some new furniture soon,’ she told him before picking out a blue T-shirt. She pulled it over his head.

  ‘You look like you’ve done this before,’ he said, groaning at his aching limbs as she manoeuvred his arms into the sleeves.

  ‘I helped your grandfather out a few times when he had the flu,’ she told him, reaching round to pull the T-shirt down over his back. ‘You need to take off that wet towel and put on a pair of pants. Can you manage that?’

  He broke into a small grin. ‘What if I can’t?’

  Annie blushed and quickly left the room.

  Downstairs, she poured him a glass of ice-cold water and found some paracetamol for him to take.

  After a knock on the door, she went back into Sam’s bedroom. The towel was dropped on the floor and he had climbed under the covers. She decided it was best that she didn’t know if he’d put on any underwear.

  Whilst he leant forward to take the pills and water from her, Annie plumped up the pillows before gently pushing him back. He closed his eyes as she took the glass from him and picked up the wet towel.

  Annie went across to the window to check it was closed. The sky was becoming streaked with pink as the sun began to go down which was good as the old curtains had been thrown away along with the windows. But a new replacement window had been fitted in that room only the previous day so at least the bedroom was draught-free.

  She turned back and saw that Sam’s eyes were still closed.

  ‘Try to get some rest,’ she told him in a gentle tone. ‘I’ll pop back in a while.’

  He smiled before drifting off to sleep.

  *

  Annie had checked on Sam a couple of times during the evening, making sure that he was still asleep.

  In between, she cleared up the kitchen and rang Rose, warning her to stay away for a couple of days in case Sam’s flu bug was contagious. Will had flown back to Europe earlier in the day, so it was just Annie alone at dinner. It was very odd not to have Sam about. She realised she had got used to having him around the place.

  Once the house was secure and closed down, she headed upstairs to his bedroom. She knocked gently on the door and then slowly opened it. She could just about see that Sam’s eyes were open.

  ‘Hi,’ she said, switching on the small bedside table light that was sitting on the floor in the absence of any bedside tables or drawers. ‘Can I get you anything?’

  He groaned and pulled himself up a little so he could lean against the tatty headboard of the old bed. ‘A new body? I ache so much.’

  She came to stand next to him and felt his forehead once more. ‘You still feel clammy,’ she said. ‘Let me get you a cold compress.’

  She went to the bathroom and wet a flannel with cold water before squeezing it almost dry. Then she went back in and placed it against his forehead.

  Sam sighed. ‘That’s nice,’ he muttered. ‘My head is pounding.’

  She checked her watch. ‘You should hold off on the paracetamol for a couple more hours, I’m afraid.’

  She gave him a glass of water and watched him grimace as he swallowed it. Then he slumped back against the pillows once more.

  ‘Do you need anything else?’ she asked.

  ‘Don’t leave me.’ His words hung in the air as he looked at her. ‘Not yet. Please.’

  She nodded, a bit stunned. Sam had never shown any signs of weakness before. She knew it was just the fever talking but she still sat on the bed and told him, ‘Just for a while then.’

  Sam relaxed and looked at her. ‘Tell me about the guy.’

  She was puzzled. ‘What guy?’

  His blue eyes bore into hers. ‘The one who hurt you so much that you had to bury yourself away, first at sea and then here. And I’m not talking about your stepdad.’

  For a second she studied him, trying to work out whether she could trust him with her secret. She realised she probably could.

  She took a deep breath. ‘I had a few boyfriends when I was on board but there was no one special until…’

  Her voice trailed off, still reluctant to say the words out loud.

  ‘Who?’ asked Sam. ‘A dodgy DJ? One of those mega-fit dancers? The captain?’ He gave a chortle which turned into a hacking cough. Whilst he took a gulp of water, it gave time for Annie’s blushes to recede slightly.

  She shook her head. ‘He was in a rock band.’

  Sam slumped back onto the pillows in shock. ‘I don’t believe it. You and a guy in a band? I’m stunned.’ He smiled at her. A nice smile. Not mocking nor ridiculing her past. Just a smile of gratitude that she had finally trusted him enough. ‘So what happened?’

  She took a little sigh. ‘The inevitable. He moved onto the next girl. So that was it.’

  ‘You’ve not seen him since?’

  She shook her head. ‘No. Anyway, enough about me.’

  ‘But…’

  Annie shook her head at him as she stood up. ‘It’s time for you to sleep. You need to get better. I can’t look after this house
on my own, you know.’

  She straightened the duvet as he shuffled back down beneath the covers, before switching off the bedside light.

  ‘So you need me now?’ she heard him say in the semi-darkness.

  ‘Only a little,’ she told him softly before leaving the room.

  *

  Annie went upstairs to her bedroom, thinking about their conversation. How strange it had been to tell him about her past. She trusted him, she realised. And it felt good.

  She pulled on a long T-shirt and snuggled under the many covers in the cold room.

  A couple of hours later, she awoke with a start. In the still of the night, she thought she could hear Sam moaning and so quickly got out of bed and went downstairs where she had left his door open.

  She didn’t need to switch a light on as the room was lit by the beam of the full moon outside.

  Sam was rambling incoherently in his sleep, tossing and thrashing about. She softly reached out and felt his forehead. His skin was hot, so she went to soak the flannel with cold water once more.

  Back in the bedroom, she realised his T-shirt was wet through with sweat. Slowly and carefully, she drew it over his head.

  ‘What are you doing?’ he grumbled under his breath.

  ‘Just trying to cool you down,’ she said in a soft tone.

  He moaned in response but seemed to calm down when she stroked the cold flannel over his hot skin. Finally, when he seemed to have settled back into more peaceful slumber, she placed the flannel next to the bed.

  Annie looked down at him, his features softened by sleep. She reached out to sweep a lock of messy dark hair from his forehead. Her eyes drifted down to his wide shoulders and bare chest. Then she drew the duvet over him before quietly leaving the room.

  *

  Early the next morning, while the house was still in darkness, Annie got dressed and then crept back into Sam’s bedroom once more to check on him before the builders arrived. To her dismay, she found him thrashing about in his sleep once more.