by Rosie Green
Sylvia points. Rose seems to be heading off towards the main entrance.
Obviously panicking, Ellie starts to run across the grass after her, but the long dress is a bit of a hindrance. Sylvia and I follow closely behind.
‘Where are you off to, Mum?’ calls Ellie.
Hearing her name, Rose stops and turns. ‘I’m going to see Roger,’ she announces.
We catch her up.
‘Mum,’ Ellie says gently, taking her hand. ‘Roger died a long, long time ago. And I know he was your favourite uncle, but - ’
‘Roger’s not dead!’ blurts out Rose, looking at her daughter as if she’s the one who’s imagining things.
Ellie shrugs helplessly. ‘Look, I know it’s sad. But Roger – well, he’s not with us any longer, Mum.’
Rose folds her arms and contemplates her daughter for a moment with a perplexed expression, and I wonder if the penny has finally dropped and she’s remembered. Alzheimers really is such a cruel disease.
Rose points over Ellie’s shoulder. ‘That’s Roger. And I might be getting senile but he looks a long way off dead to me!’
We all stare at ‘Uncle Roger’.
A tall man with white hair, smartly dressed in light trousers with a summery checked waistcoat over his shirt, he looks to be in his late sixties, perhaps early seventies – but I have to agree with Rose.
He’s most definitely not dead.
He smiles and Rose takes his hand. ‘This is Roger,’ she explains proudly. ‘He’s come to live at Rose Court.’
Ellie, looking dazed, steps forward and introduces herself, followed by the rest of us.
Roger smiles. ‘Delighted to meet you all. Rose has told me so much about you. Ellie, I’m very much looking forward to hearing you play the bagpipes.’
There’s a stunned silence.
Rose turns to us with a beaming smile. ‘When I can’t remember things, I just make them up.’
Sylvia gives a hoot of laughter. ‘Quite right, Rose. Why on earth didn’t I think of that?’ This breaks the ice and we all start talking at once.
Ellie is still staring at Roger in amazement. She links Rose’s other arm and in a stage whisper says, ‘Mum, are you telling me you’ve got a boyfriend?’
Rose smiles serenely. ‘Don’t look so worried, dear. It’s not what you think. We’re just very good friends.’
‘What’s going on over there?’ I ask, suddenly spotting what looks like a TV crew and their gear ambling over the grass towards us.
The man at the head of the posse comes over and says, ‘We’re here from the local news.’
‘The TV?’ asks Fen.
The man nods. ‘We were told it’s happening at four-thirty?’
Fen looks puzzled. ‘Oh, well, it’s been happening all day, really. But Mum will be so chuffed. She’s been pestering you – er, I mean calling you about the event for ages.’
The man frowns and scratches his head. ‘It wasn’t Lady Redpath who called in with the story.’
‘Oh? Who was it, then?’
‘Lord Redpath?’
‘My dad? But he’s not even here.’
The man grins and looks away, across the parkland. ‘Er, I think he might be just arriving.’
We all look over to where he’s pointing and our mouths collectively drop open. A man on a beautiful white horse appears between the trees, stops for a moment, then starts cantering across the grass towards the lake. He’s dressed in full Georgian regalia, pale breeches, dark jacket and riding boots.
‘That’s Dad?’ breathes Fen in wonder. Then a second later: ‘Christ, that’s Dad. What on earth’s he doing?’
The man refers to his notes. ‘According to this, he’s re-enacting the scene from Pride & Prejudice where Mr Darcy gets his kit off and dives into the lake?’
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
‘Nooooooo!’ Fen gasps, half in disbelief, half delight. ‘But he’s the shyest man I know. He must be doing this for Mum!’
We all start laughing and cheering and walking down to the lake, as Lord Redpath jumps off his horse - with surprising agility for a sixty-plus man - and strides towards the water.
‘Mum has to see this!’ shouts Fen and she turns, ready to run back to the house.
‘I’m here. What’s all the fuss?’ asks Lady Redpath, joining us. She suddenly sees what’s happening over by the lake and her mouth drops open. ‘Will?’
‘Right, let’s get down there!’ The crew are off, not wanting to miss the main event. And after a second, we all follow, Lady R linking arms with Fen and leading the way down to the lake.
‘Will?’ Lady R calls as she gets near, and he hops on one leg and looks around, having just removed one boot. Locating his wife in the crowd, he shrugs. ‘It was the best idea I could come up with. I bloody hope this lake isn’t freezing.’
‘Go, Mr Darcy!’ shouts Fen suddenly, with all the power in her lungs, and we all turn and stare at her in amazement. She glances at Ethan, who’s standing nearby, and he gives her a huge grin and takes up her words, chanting, ‘Mis-ter Darcy! Mis-ter Darcy! Mis-ter Darcy!’ And then the whole crowd are joining in.
Pulling off his other boot, Fen’s dad stands at the edge and glances back at the TV crew as if to say, Are you ready for this because I’m not sure I am! He rips off his jacket to reveal a white, flowing-sleeved shirt underneath. Then, curling his body forward, he executes a perfect dive into the waters of the lake.
I glance at Lady R. The disbelief on her face is almost comic.
Lord R is emerging from the water, shaking himself off like a dog, and everyone is cheering.
‘He needs a towel,’ murmurs Lady R, coming to her senses. ‘I’ll get you a towel, Will!’ she shouts and starts back across the grass to the house.
‘What on earth did I miss?’ asks a familiar voice behind me. I turn and Harry is standing there.
My heart does a triple leap in my chest.
He looks gorgeous in jeans and a pale T-shirt that brings out the amazing green of his eyes. Eyes that are smiling into mine and waking up every single butterfly inside me.
‘Oh, just Mr Darcy diving into the lake.’
‘Ah, right. Just a normal Sunday occurrence at Brambleberry Manor?’
We laugh and he says, ‘I thought I’d never get here. I had to photograph a dog who kept making a run for it.’ His face grows serious. ‘How are things?’
‘Oh, you know . . . fine.’ I paste on a smile, thinking I could probably do quite well in the am dram group myself, what with all the acting I’ve been doing lately, keeping my other life a secret.
‘Right.’ He steps back and nods, an odd look on his face. ‘That’s good, then.’
‘Yes. It was a storm in a teacup,’ I add for good measure, wishing I could just tell him everything.
‘Okay, well, I’d better be going. I’ve got another job later.’ He starts walking backwards with a wave. ‘Glad I caught Mr Darcy’s dramatic display.’
But not so glad you caught me!
I stare after Harry in dismay. I was so sure he’d repeat the wining and dining thing. I was going to mention it myself, I was so confident that he’d still want to – but now, I’m not so sure . . .
*****
Once all the visitors have gone, Fen, Ellie and I escape to the barn-café to take a breather.
‘Oh my God, look at this place,’ laughs Fen. ‘It’s going to take hours to get straight.’
Ellie sweeps a tray of dirty cups and plates off the nearest table and plonks herself down on a chair. ‘Well, I for one am not moving from here until I’ve at least had a cuppa and a scone.’
‘Good idea,’ says Fen. ‘Sit yourself down, Jaz, and I’ll wait on you. Cream tea, both of you?’
‘What about Mum, eh?’ Ellie shakes her head. There’s a lightness of spirit about her that’s been missing for a while.
‘I know. Good for her.’
‘Roger seems a sort,’ calls Fen and we both look over and snort with laughter.
> ‘Yes, I suppose he is a bit. Mum certainly looks happy. I asked her if she wanted to come and live with us but she looked at me as if I was mad and said why would she want to leave Rose Court when she had lovely Roger to keep her company?’
Fen seems in a brighter mood, too.
‘It’s so great what your dad did for your mum, Fen. That wonderful publicity stunt,’ I say. ‘We’ll need to watch the news later.’
‘Have they had a grand reunion?’ asks Ellie.
Fen brings a tray of goodies over. ‘I think so. I have a feeling he’s back to stay, thank God,’ she says happily. ‘Mum looks like a different person already and she’s making all sorts of promises about making sure the open-to-the-public thing doesn’t take over their lives.’
Ellie frowns. ‘It probably will, though.’
‘Not if it’s just at weekends. And anyway, I think Dad’s realising that if they want to hang onto the house, they’ll need the extra income. Especially if they don’t want the house falling into disrepair with a leaky roof and everything.
Maisie, Zak’s five-year-old daughter, dances into the café and runs straight over to Ellie.
‘Hi, darling. Have you had a good day?’ asks Ellie, putting an arm round her.
‘Yes, thank you.’ Maisie disentangles herself and stands by the table, eyeing the cake with interest. Her pale pink, rosebud-embroidered summer dress has what looks like a chocolate ice-cream stain on the bodice and lots of soft brown hair has escaped from her ponytail. ‘Can I have a strawberry cupcake, please?’
‘Of course you can.’ Ellie pats the empty seat beside her and puts a cake on a plate.
Zak appears. ‘There you are, Maisie.’ He grins and ruffles her hair. ‘Where on earth do you get all your energy from?’
She shrugs, smiling shyly at us all. ‘I don’t know.’ She picks up the cake and takes a big bite.
‘We had a brilliant day, didn’t we, Maisie-Moo?’
Maisie nods, her mouthful of cake preventing a fuller response. She swallows it down and says, ‘Don’t call me Maisie-Moo, Daddy. I’m too old for silly nicknames.’
‘Oh, okay. That’s me told.’ He grins and sinks into the chair next to Ellie. Casually, he loops his arm around her and she smiles up at him, and my heart flips to see their obvious happiness.
After a while, Zak takes Maisie back home to Sunnybrook, and the three of us decide to go over to the manor and watch the six o’clock news, which will hopefully feature Mr Darcy diving into the lake.
On our way across the grass, we bump into Ethan who’s also heading over to the house to collect some props. He greets us all but then falls into step with Fen, asking her if she can make the next meeting of the am dram group.
Ellie and I walk on ahead, leaving them to chat, and Fen catches us up as we’re walking up the grand staircase to her room. She turns and waves at Ethan, who’s standing below in the hall, talking to Lady R.
‘Come on. It’s almost six!’ says Fen and we race along to her room.
‘It’s local news,’ I remind her. ‘It won’t be on until later.’
We sit on her bed and she switches on her TV anyway, and just as the familiar music starts, the door opens and Lady R comes into the room.
‘Fen, darling, I’ve got a surprise for you. There’s someone here who’s told me he’d like to be your “plus-one” at our party tonight,’ she announces with a big smile.
Fen looks up, shock and hope written right across her face.
Ellie and I exchange a look of surprise.
Lady R smiles back at someone in the corridor and holds the door for him.
We all wait with baited breath as colour floods into Fen’s face. She lowers her eyes for a second and I can tell she’s struggling to maintain her composure.
Then she looks up at the man walking into the room.
It’s Robert, Mick’s son, who Sylvia introduced us to in the café earlier.
Just for a second, I really was expecting Ethan to walk through that door. I hardly dare look at Fen. If I feel disappointed for her, she must be feeling about a thousand times worse.
Fen’s face is frozen in a smile. ‘How lovely,’ she murmurs.
A moment later, she excuses herself on the pretext of needing to fetch her mobile phone from the library, and escapes from the room.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
We watched the news footage of Lord R ripping off his jacket and plunging into the cold depths, which is ten out of ten for sheer entertainment value. Then Ellie and I drive back to Sunnybrook.
I can tell she’s eager to join Zak and Maisie, having missed them during the day while she was helping Fen. She asks if I’d like to come in for a glass of wine, but I decline, not really feeling like being a gooseberry tonight.
I don’t really want to go home just yet, either, so I wander over the grass to the duck pond and sit down on the grass in my favourite spot. The beautiful day has turned into a clear, balmy night, and a wave of loneliness hits without warning.
I look up at the windows of Ellie’s flat above The Little Duck Pond Café and imagine her in there, laughing with Zak about her day and running a bath for Maisie. The perfect little family. I thought I’d found that for myself but it wasn’t to be.
I’ve held in my sadness for so long, trying to stay positive, but suddenly, the situation I’m in seems utterly overwhelming. All the strength seems to have drained out of me.
A tear slips down my face and quickly becomes a flood.
Sitting there on the grass, I rest my forehead on my knees and sob as if my heart will break, unable to stop, not wanting to keep it in any longer.
A car pulls up outside cafe. Sniffing and reaching for a hanky, I glance up and my heart misses a beat.
I recognise the car. It belongs to Harry.
He gets out and walks across the grass towards me, speaking even while he’s still yards away. ‘Jaz? Are you okay?’
I gaze at his familiar, handsome face, feeling like I want to pour everything out because I know he’ll understand. But instead, I just shake my head.
He gazes down at me. ‘What’s happened?’ he asks.
I hold out my hand and he pulls me to my feet and hugs me. It’s not a flirty embrace. It’s just a great big bear hug with no strings attached – and it gives me more comfort than anything he could possibly say to me. I cry a little more in the safety of his arms and he lets me, just holding me until the after-quivers have finally stopped.
Then we walk slowly around the pond and I tell him the whole story. About falling in love with Grant and growing close to Titch, then how it all started going so badly wrong. I tell him how Grant changed the locks on Christmas Eve and how I took my savings with me but Grant is now telling everyone the money also belonged to him, so now my name is mud in Palmerston.
Harry snorts. ‘After everything that man put you through, you had every right to take your money with you. And the people who are judging you obviously don’t know you, so they don’t matter anyway.’
‘Jules said he went tee-total after I left. I’m not sure about the gambling because he was always very sneaky about that. But I’ve just heard he’s started drinking again and I can’t stop thinking about how Titch must be feeling.’
‘What about relatives? Can’t they help with Titch?’
‘Mum and Dad are up in Aberdeen and Dad’s got MS so they don’t get very far. And Grant’s mum, Evelyn, believes her darling soon could never do anything wrong.’
He stares up at the sky then murmurs, ‘It might be worth talking to her, though. Presumably she thinks the world of Titch?’
‘Oh, yes.’
‘Where does she live?’
‘Cambridge.’
‘So let’s go and see her.’
‘What, now?’
He glances at his watch. ‘No time like the present. If we leave now, we can be up there soon after eight.’
*****
Harry is a speedy driver. But I feel safe with him - safe enough to rest
my head back and put the journey in his hands. It’s only when we approach the outskirts of Cambridge that he interrupts my train of thought, which is basically, a rehearsal of what I’m going to say to Evelyn, Grant’s mum.
We draw up outside her bungalow where she lives alone, Grant’s dad having died years ago. It occurs to me that’s probably why Evelyn’s so fiercely protective of Grant – becoming a widow at such a young age meant she probably relied more heavily on him for emotional support than she otherwise would have.
Harry stays in the car and I get out and walk through the squeaky gate I remember of old.
Evelyn’s reaction is more of less what I expected.
When she first answers the door, her eyes widen with surprise to see me standing on her doorstep. But quickly, her expression turns to anger as she no doubt recalls the story Grant will have told her of hard-hearted Jaz, who took his money!
She doesn’t invite me in. She just folds her arms and stands there, her lips pursed.
‘It’s about Titch, Evelyn,’ I say quickly, before she can start accusing me of anything. ‘I’m really worried about her. Grant’s drinking heavily and obviously I can’t go back there because he doesn’t want to see me. But I just thought if you could go down. Talk to Grant. Make sure Titch is all right? I’m sure things are okay, but just in case . . .’ My words all come out in a rush, I’m so desperate for her to understand.
‘Well, you’ve got a nerve, coming round here and trying to stir trouble!’ she accuses. ‘You weren’t exactly thinking of Titch when you ran out on them six months ago. Spent all of Grant’s money, have you? I expect you’ve moved on to fleecing some other poor unsuspecting man of his cash now. Well, you’re not going to trick your way into my house, young lady, so you might as well get in that car and drive back to where you came from.’ She peers into the car. ‘Got company, I see. Perhaps I should go and warn him what you’re like? Give him the chance to flee while he can.’
Without saying another word, she closes the door firmly in my face.
*****
‘So how come Mrs Frosty Features believes everything her darling son tells her?’ asks Harry on the way back. ‘My mum takes everything I tell her with a sack of salt!’
