A House to Mend a Broken Heart

by Sherlock, Alison

  She sat down on the edge of the bed and reached out to stroke his forehead, trying to settle him in his feverish state. His skin once again hot to touch.

  She was just wondering about waking him to give him some paracetamol to bring the temperature down when his hand suddenly reached out to grab her arm. Still asleep, and with his eyes closed, his other hand fumbled for her head and brought it down to his. Stunned, she wasn’t quick enough to react when his mouth found hers.

  He was kissing her. She tried to push away from him but he was too strong, even when ill. Finally, she became still and relaxed against him. That was when she realised how good it was to be in a man’s arms again. To be held, to be kissed.

  She was just beginning to respond when he suddenly released her and turned over in his sleep. His breathing drew peaceful once more.

  She stood up, finding herself a little breathless after their passionate encounter, and left the room.

  Once in the safety of the hallway, she slumped against the wall. It was the fever, she told herself. That was all. He hadn’t meant to kiss her. Maybe he was dreaming about someone else.

  With that, she straightened up and headed downstairs, anxious to start her day and let her work take over her mind.

  *

  Later in the morning, when she had finally built up enough courage, Annie went over to check on Sam. She was pleased to find him awake although anxious about whether he would say anything about what had happened early that morning.

  ‘How are you feeling?’ she asked, deciding to stand next to the bed rather than sit too close.

  ‘A bit better, I think.’

  His hair was ruffled from sleep but he did appear to be a little brighter.

  Annie took his temperature and then checked the thermometer. ‘It’s much lower than last night. I think the fever has passed.’

  ‘Thank God. I had the strangest dreams.’

  Annie avoided eye contact whilst she straightened his duvet once more but she could feel herself blushing furiously.

  ‘You’ll sleep better now that the temperature’s getting back to normal,’ she told him. ‘Are you hungry? Would you like some toast?’

  ‘Maybe I could try and get up,’ he said, sitting up briefly before slumping back against the pillows.

  ‘I’m not sure that’s a good idea,’ she told him. ‘I’ll bring you something to eat but I think you should just rest today.’

  ‘You’re loving being in charge of me, aren’t you?’ he said, with a smile.

  ‘Absolutely,’ she replied, breaking into a grin.

  He didn’t mention the kiss so nor did she. Perhaps that was for the best, she told herself.

  *

  But by the afternoon, Sam was fighting the idea of bed rest. He couldn’t let Annie do all the work by herself. It was too much for her to have to cope with. He decided to tell her so when she popped in to collect his lunch tray.

  ‘I have to get up,’ he said swivelling his legs around to sit on the edge of the bed. Even that felt like a bit of an effort. But he wouldn’t admit that to her.

  ‘You can’t work like this,’ said Annie, coming to stand in front of him so she blocked his path. ‘You’ve got to give your body time to recover.’

  He sighed. ‘OK. But look, at the very least, I’ve got to have a wash.’

  She laughed. ‘You’re barely able to stand up and the baths haven’t been installed yet.’

  ‘I’ll be fine,’ he replied, rubbing his hand over his rough chin. ‘I’m going to have a shave too.’

  She put her hands on her hips. ‘Hold out your hands.’

  He frowned but did as he was ordered to. They both stared as his fingers shook violently before exchanging a look.

  She sighed and shook her head. ‘If you make it through the shower I’ll shave you, OK?’

  The thought pleased him as he said, ‘Deal.’

  After the best shower of his life, or so it felt, he sank down on the edge of the bed feeling exhausted. But Annie made good on her promise and began to smooth shaving foam over his face.

  ‘Thank you,’ he told her. ‘I need this.’

  He closed his eyes at the gentle touch of her fingers over his cheeks and chin. Then he opened one eye up again to look warily at the razor she was holding. ‘You have done this before, haven’t you?’

  ‘Yes, so be quiet,’ she replied. ‘If I cut your throat, it’ll be practically unintentional.’

  He smiled at her, revelling in the chance to be so close that he could see the tiny specks of amber amongst her emerald eyes. They were framed with such thick, dark lashes that he was amazed he couldn’t feel a waft of air as she blinked. He could see up close how smooth her skin was. How many different shades of blonde coloured her long, golden hair.

  Realising that he was staring, he relaxed his face and closed his eyes.

  Her breath was warm on his skin as she carefully shaved him. He could smell the sweet but subtle perfume that she always wore. His senses were reeling with having her so near to him.

  Had he really kissed her all those hours ago? Had he dreamt it or was it real? Those lips had certainly felt and tasted real.

  But it was over much sooner than he expected and wanted, he realised.

  ‘There,’ she told him, straightening up. ‘You’re almost human again.’

  As she smiled warmly at him, he knew he wanted nothing more than to lean forward and kiss her again.

  Trying to keep his emotions in check, Sam slowly stood up, suddenly very aware that he was only wearing his towel. That he only had to reach out to draw her closer to him once more.

  ‘You’d better get dressed before you catch pneumonia,’ she told him before leaving the room.

  Once alone, he sank back onto the bed, still trying to rid himself of the overwhelming desire to kiss her. But as he closed his eyes, all he could smell was her soft perfume which hung in the air long after she had left.

  Chapter 24

  Thanks to the efforts of Mr Reynolds’ team of professional builders, there were now all new chimney stacks so that the fireplaces could be swept before finally being able to be used. New gutters had been fitted and the roof was beginning to be patched up after the delivery of the new grey tiles that slotted in beautifully with the original ones. Slowly a few windows each day were being replaced, although there were plenty still to go. But gradually things were beginning to come together.

  ‘So I don’t need to worry when it rains anymore?’ asked Sam , glancing up at the ceiling.

  He was feeling more like his old self again now that he had recovered from the flu.

  ‘Or if it snows,’ said Mr Reynolds with a smile.

  The forecast was for heavy snowfall once December arrived in a couple of weeks. The odds on a white Christmas had been slashed by the bookies.

  Sam glanced around the master bedroom. The inside downpours had ruined the walls so the whole of the upper floor required replastering.

  ‘The new internal doors will be completed by the end of next week so every bedroom will be draught-free,’ said Mr Reynolds.

  ‘Thank heavens,’ said Sam with a sigh.

  ‘But I need to warn you that they’re starting work on the bathrooms this week. Do you want the bathroom in the staff quarters done at the same time?’

  Sam frowned, never having even considered about the rooms in the attic. ‘Er, yes,’ he said.

  The two men walked back out to the landing, at the edge of which a new balcony had been constructed. In the same dark oak as the new staircase, the spindles matched those gradually being added on each step. It really was a thing of beauty. At least it would be once it was finally uncovered from its shroud of covers to protect the wood whilst the builders came and went.

  ‘At least progress is being made,’ said Sam.

  But he was still concerned about the bathroom situation. Halfway up the stairs, he realised that he had no idea what the staff quarters looked like as he had never gone up there. He told himself that
it was his duty to make sure everything was ok up there. But he had never been more aware that he was in Annie’s personal space. He went up the narrow, dingy staircase and found a small, unused kitchen to one side. The walls and furniture were as dilapidated as the ones in the main house had once been. He walked along to the small shower room and peered inside. It was clean but outdated, with an avocado-coloured sink, loo and cracked shower base. Only an empty bottle of shampoo in the bin hinted that Annie had used the bathroom a few weeks previously. But there wasn’t even a bath.

  Once he had checked out the butler’s quarters which were fairly depressing, Sam glanced inside Annie’s bedroom, knowing that she was downstairs and hoping that he wasn’t invading her privacy too much. He looked around the dismal room, realising how awful it was. A single bed, which looked as if it would collapse at any moment. Ghastly old furniture. However, the tiny fireplace was sweet, or it would be if the cracked tiles around it were replaced.

  His guilt was palpable. Why hadn’t he even considered upgrading the staff quarters? What about Annie’s needs?

  ‘I had no idea it was so bad up there,’ he told Annie when he went back downstairs. ‘We will, of course, get it renovated.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter.’ Annie was shaking her head and looking a little alarmed. ‘Think of it as the next phase.’

  ‘Nonsense,’ said Sam. The more he thought about it, the more he wondered whether Annie couldn’t just stay on the main floor instead of being stuck all the way up in the attic. After all, his grandad was right. She wasn’t just staff. She was family.

  Except he was starting to realise that he didn’t want to think of her in those terms either.

  *

  The builder’s radio was blaring out Christmas songs now that December had arrived. ‘Santa Claus is coming to town,’ sang the band. He’s not coming here if he’s got any brains, thought Annie. Then she realised that everything was slowly beginning to improve as the decay of the old house was stripped away week by week.

  Every day, a small victory was won. The electrics had now been rewired in the bedrooms in the east wing, as well as the drawing room. Windows were replaced, ensuring that, at last, the place was beginning to lose its icy temperature inside. Most of the chimneys that had been swept were beginning to be lit. The upstairs bathrooms had been cleared ready for brand new suites. Therefore Annie could move downstairs to allow the workmen to get to grips with the staff quarters in the attic.

  On her last night in the housekeeper’s bedroom, she sat on the bed with her knees hugged to her chest. She desperately tried to take in every small detail before it was taken away from her. The wallpaper was faded and peeling. There was a chip on the wall by the fireplace where she accidentally dropped a fire prong when she had first arrived. The sooty marks on the ceiling had remained even after she had removed the long candlesticks.

  Despite her wanting to embrace the change that had been thrust upon Willow Tree Hall, the invasion of the staff quarters unsettled her the most. This was her bedroom, her personal space where she had hidden herself away for so many months.

  She had felt awkward when Sam had asked her to move downstairs. And yet she was ready for change, she realised. She wanted a fresh start.

  She stared around the room one last time before picking up her two suitcases and carrying them downstairs to one of the spare bedrooms. It was another dilapidated room but it was enormous compared to her old room. The view was nice though, overlooking the front of the house.

  Her joy was short-lived however when Sam handed over the remaining decisions to her later that day.

  ‘I’ve got to go away again at the end of this week,’ he told her. ‘And, without sounding sexist, wallpaper isn’t really my area of expertise.’

  ‘But I thought Rose and Alex were sorting it all out?’

  ‘Aunt Rose isn’t around too much this week what with all the Christmas lunches going on. You can talk to Alex. I trust you,’ he said.

  ‘Do you think it will be ready for Christmas?’ she asked, ever hopeful.

  Sam drew in a long breath. ‘Not so sure about that. But you know what Christmas means, don’t you?’ he asked, smiling at her.

  Her heart skipped a beat. Was he talking about mistletoe?

  ‘Record sales figures from all those lovely people buying presents for one another,’ said Sam.

  Annie tried to hide her disappointment. ‘How lovely and warm that must make you feel,’ she told him, rolling her eyes. ‘You are the Grinch that stole Christmas.’ But she smiled so he knew he was joking.

  But Sam’s face had dropped. ‘More like the one that didn’t show up very often,’ he told her with a sad shake of his head. ‘We used to have every Christmas here. I remember the massive tree right there in the entrance hall. It was so tall you could see the top from the gallery on the first floor. My dad used to dangle me from the landing up there to hang the star on top of the tree.’

  ‘It must be tough to celebrate Christmas without your parents,’ said Annie, knowing from her own experience.

  He nodded. ‘It is. They made it so special.’ He brightened up as if forcing himself to. ‘And this one will be special once we’re done doing the place up and getting Grandad home.’

  It was going to be special because Arthur and Aunt Rose would be coming home.

  ‘You must have had some fun times on the ships celebrating Christmas,’ said Sam, looking intently at her.

  She shrugged her shoulders. ‘It’s never the same as being home though, is it?’

  ‘Well, it’s a good job we’ll all be together this year.’ He took a step towards her. ‘I’m looking forward to having my first Christmas with you actually.’

  She gulped, her throat suddenly dry. ‘Me too,’ she managed to croak, before they were interrupted by Megan coming down the stairs.

  As Sam walked off, Megan raised an eyebrow in silent question.

  ‘We were only talking about Christmas,’ Annie told her, trying to keep her voice casual even though she could still feel how pink her cheeks were.

  Megan stared at her for a beat before letting her off the hook. ‘Bloody Christmas!’ she moaned. ‘Whoever invented chocolate advent calendars needs a good hiding. One chocolate a day. Try explaining that to a toddler!’

  ‘Awww,’ said Annie. ‘Kids are so sweet at Christmastime.’

  ‘Not when the contents of the potty are full of glitter,’ said Megan, rolling her eyes.

  *

  Annie felt overwhelmed with responsibility when Sam’s friend Alex arrived to discuss decorating ideas. He definitely left her on the outer edge of her comfort zone. She had never met anybody like Alex before. He was so flamboyant, so chatty. So mesmerising. And with Sam away on tour and Rose kept busy with village activities, she had to face him on her own.

  She ran her hand over one of the newly plastered walls in the master bedroom which, now that it had dried, was as smooth as glass.

  She found some courage and turned round. ‘So? What did you have in mind?’

  Alex broke into a grin. ‘Arthur will love it. Because it will be exactly the same as he had before. Only not falling apart. It will be a country gentleman’s bedroom. Perfectly respectable and classic. Apart from the wonderfully soft thick carpet I’ve ordered.’

  ‘Does Sam know?’ she asked, raising her eyebrows.

  ‘Not until he sees the bill,’ said Alex, giving her a wink. His laughter filled the air as he went into the en suite. ‘Now, in here we’re having all easy accessibility. Lots of handrails. A seat. And the best massage power shower money can buy.’

  Annie followed him into Rose’s large bedroom which was next door.

  ‘Darling Rose’s room is going to be a proper boudoir,’ said Alex, walking into the empty room. ‘Lots of wardrobe space for that fabulous fashion collection. Thick carpets. Chaise lounge. Classy but with a hint of naughtiness. Just like the lady herself. And her en suite will be the same as Arthur’s, except for some touches of purple here and t
here.’

  ‘Sounds wonderful,’ said Annie, thinking that she would love it. ‘Will they be ready in time for Christmas?’

  ‘Just keep holding your breath, gorgeous. You never know!’

  They walked across the landing and into the corridor of the east wing.

  ‘This will be Sam’s master suite,’ Alex told her as they walked into the largest bedroom at the end of the wing. ‘So, what do you think?’

  ‘Me?’ Annie was shocked. ‘I’m sure Sam’s got his own ideas as to how he wants it to look. Besides, he’s probably not going to be here that often to enjoy it.’ Even saying the words filled her with a pang.

  Alex raised his eyebrows at her. ‘That’s not what he’s telling me on the quiet. I think he’s planning to spend a lot more time here.’

  Annie felt a little ping of joy in her stomach. ‘Well, Arthur and Rose will be pleased,’ she said, trying to stop the blush from spreading over her cheeks, to no avail.

  ‘I’m sure,’ said Alex in a dry tone, studying her closely. ‘But I’m not convinced that’s the only reason for his change of address.’

  Annie didn’t know how to respond to this so she made a show of going across the room to check the windows. But when she turned around she found Alex was still looking at her.

  ‘Thank God he dumped the diva,’ he said, giving her the once-over with his eyes. ‘Too high-maintenance for words, that Cassandra. Tell me, was her singing really that bad?’

  Annie gave him an evil grin. ‘Awful.’

  ‘How fabulous!’ he cackled. ‘Talk about cosmic karma. What about you, Miss Housekeeper? Any hidden talents I should know about?’

  Annie shook her head. ‘No, I’m pretty ordinary.’

  Alex shook his head. ‘Sweetie, according to our mutual friend Sam, you’re definitely pretty but certainly not ordinary. And I agree with him.’ He walked over to where she stood before taking her by the arm. ‘Now, show me where you’ve stashed all the ornaments so I can get a few more ideas.’