Not this, his brain reminded him. Not now. And certainly not this woman.
‘So, any problems?’ he asked, deliberately glancing around to make sure the electricity was okay and to take his mind off her smooth skin.
‘Nothing that wouldn’t be helped by your departure,’ she told him with a sweet smile.
That brought him back down to earth.
‘Well, I’ll leave you to it,’ he snapped, abruptly stepping away and backing down the steps.
‘Goodnight,’ she heard him say, before closing the door behind him.
Deep in thought, he went towards the lodge which was still bathed in darkness. He barely registered his phone ringing for a few moments and then quickly pulled it out of his trouser pocket.
‘Hi,’ he said, smiling as he saw Maria’s name come up on the screen.
There was a small pause before she spoke. ‘Sorry, what was that? I can barely hear you above this racket.’
‘Where are you?’ he asked.
‘That new club on Park Lane. You must come. Everybody’s here.’
Will looked around the woods and, for once, relished the peace.
Maria carried on. ‘Look, I’m trying to sort out numbers for my soon-to-be-divorced party. It’s going to be on Saturday night, but why don’t you join us for Cecil’s birthday party on Friday as well. We need lots more single men otherwise it’s going to be all boring couples.’
Will grimaced. ‘I don’t even like Cecil.’
‘He’s an earl. You two have something in common. Come on. I want all my friends around me this weekend. When did you get so serious?’
He sighed and caved in, desperate to get away after the few days of being at Willow Tree Hall. He also thought that it would be good to catch up with Maria and make sure that she was doing ok after such a bitter break-up. Since their affair had petered out, he hadn’t had an opportunity to talk properly to her face-to-face. So he found himself agreeing to join Maria and her friends in London at the weekend.
After he had hung up, Will stood still in the woods for a long time, hearing the low hoot of an owl before lifting his head up to the stars glittering in the inky black sky overhead.
Perhaps it was best that he wasn’t around at the weekend. The anniversary of his parents’ fatal accident was never a good day for him. But he also knew that the family too would struggle on that date.
He sighed and continued to stare up at the stars until some clouds drifted across them and obscured his view. Then he went inside the lodge and drew the curtains in the lounge. But as he looked out at the trailer he realised it was the first time he had seen it lit up from within and, for some reason, it was looking temptingly snug.
17
Despite the electricity, the trailer was still freezing cold. There was no heating, but at least Skye could charge her phone. Also, it was nice to be able to switch the small light on by the bed, but that only meant that she could see her breath in the air.
Shivering, she snuck deep down underneath the covers once more. Even the mattress was cold. She took a deep breath and tried to exhale slowly. She would be fine. She was so tired that she was sure she would fall asleep almost straight away.
But she couldn’t. She had thought the first night sleeping in the trailer had been bad enough but the driveway had been relatively quiet apart from the creepy owls. Staying in the woods was far worse. It took her stress count to a whole new level. First of all, there were strange noises, a sort of snuffling, from somewhere underneath the trailer. Skye gulped. Maybe it was a rabbit. Were they nocturnal? What about the bats that Will had told her about earlier? Could they somehow fly inside, up the water pipe to the sink? She didn’t have a clue.
She switched off the light and shuffled further down under the covers. As she lay still, the weird noises continued. Everything was magnified in the dark. Every noise, every rustle, however soft. It was completely and utterly spooky. A Halloween horror story, as far as Skye was concerned.
Maybe that was it, she told herself. It was Halloween. It was just her imagination. All that stuff about Game of Thrones. It had all been a bit of fun, but now she was thinking about zombies and all kinds of creepy things. And why did she have Michael Jackson’s ‘Thriller’ going round and round in her head?
She quickly switched the light back on.
She just had to get through this. Seven nights at the very most. She could totally do this, she reminded herself.
There was the screech of some nocturnal creature which sounded like it was straight out of a nightmare. With a howl of terror, she threw off the covers and hopped across to the kitchen. She grabbed a rolling pin out of one of the kitchen drawers and took it back to bed.
She slid it under the pillow and hunkered down under the covers, prepared for another restless night.
When she finally fell asleep, it was the early hours of the morning. But only a couple of hours later, she awoke with a start. Was somebody knocking on the door?
She stood up and, grabbing her crutches, shuffled over to the door and cautiously opened it. Surprised to find that Will wasn’t standing there, she pulled one of her Uggs onto her good foot and went carefully down the steps.
The first dawn of November had arrived and the daylight made the woods appear less spooky so she felt brave enough to step further away from the Airstream and check what the noise had been that had awoken her.
She realised that something was being pelted onto the roof of the trailer, making a loud clanging noise over and over. She stared up into the trees and finally spotted the culprits. A couple of squirrels were munching on pine cones, extracting the seeds and then throwing the cones away, down onto the metal roof.
‘Stop that,’ she called up.
The squirrels ignored her and the noise continued.
Feeling grumpy and shivering, she realised she was only dressed in her pyjamas. She headed back indoors, thinking that she could curl up in bed. But she was cold and hungry and couldn’t settle. In the end, she decided to get dressed and thaw out in the warmth of Willow Tree Hall. After all, they’d given her an open invitation to drop by.
The fog had been replaced by a steady drizzle so she threw on a jacket before setting off through the woods. It was a little bit creepy, even knowing that Will was most likely still inside the lodge.
It didn’t help that her progress was so slow, thanks to the crutches. Once more, she regretted her clumsiness. If she hadn’t twisted her ankle she could have been long gone by now.
The air was dank and cold. A chilly reminder that winter was going to arrive very soon. But despite the awful weather, the noise was tremendous in the woods. Birds tweeted loudly, despite the rain dripping down from the trees. Leaves rustled. Nature was everywhere. She just hoped it didn’t want to get too close.
Skye was just thinking that it all looked very different in the daylight but no less confusing when she stopped dead, having come upon a river. She had obviously got completely lost and had taken a different muddy path in the wrong direction.
Not knowing which way to turn, she stared out across the river and sighed. She really was a fish out of water in the countryside.
There was a sudden flapping of wings and she cringed as a couple of ducks skittered their way across the water before taking off. Then she heard footsteps. Hoping, for once, that it was Will and not a leftover ghoul from Halloween, she decided to be brave and look around.
She was pleased but somewhat surprised to see Arthur slowly moving through the woods towards her, taking his time and leaning on his walking stick.
‘Good morning,’ he said, with a smile.
‘Good morning,’ she said. ‘You’re out and about early.’
‘The paradox of getting older,’ said Arthur. ‘You’re more tired but you sleep less. Are you also an early riser?’
Skye shrugged. ‘Not so much, but I guess it’s the strange surroundings.’
Very strange, she added to herself.
‘And how do you like our riv
er?’ he asked, looking out across the water.
Skye was astonished. ‘You own the river?’
Arthur chuckled at his own joke. ‘Just the mile of it running through the estate. I wanted to check that it hadn’t flooded. We’ve had so much rain recently. No good for fishing, of course, when it’s in flood.’
‘I wouldn’t know about that,’ she told him. ‘The only fish I know comes in batter with chips.’
Arthur smiled. ‘Proper food. You know, Norman often fished with me down here.’
‘Did he?’ Skye turned around and tried to imagine Norman as a much younger man fishing and laughing with Arthur.
‘You know, I’ll have to show you some photographs of him when he was younger,’ said Arthur.
‘Oh, that would be lovely.’ For a second, Skye was mortified to find tears pricking her eyes. ‘Sorry,’ she said.
‘Not at all,’ said Arthur. ‘You must miss him terribly.’
‘We never had grandparents growing up,’ said Skye. ‘My mum lost contact with her own parents a long time ago. So for Summer and myself it was like having a grandad of our own.’
‘I understand,’ said Arthur. ‘And I’m sure he got a great deal of pleasure from having both of you around as well. His letters were full of news about you both, you know.’
Skye was stunned. ‘I had no idea.’
Feeling tearful once more, Skye looked across to where the rain was splattering the surface of the water whilst she tried to compose herself.
Arthur, gracious as always, remained quiet until he finally said, ‘So, what brought you to the water’s edge this morning?’
Skye looked sheepish. ‘I got lost,’ she told him.
‘Ah!’ Arthur smiled softly. ‘Easily done. What were you trying to find?’
‘The hall,’ she told him with a grin.
‘Would you like me to show you the way?’
‘Yes, please.’
As they turned around, Skye saw a dilapidated building in the distance that looked, if possible, in even worse state than the gamekeeper’s lodge.
‘That’s the old boat house,’ Arthur told her, following her gaze. ‘I think that stopped being used even before the lodge.’
They made slow progress through the woods with Skye worrying about Arthur tripping over the tree roots and him checking that her crutches weren’t getting in a tangle.
‘I should be looking out for you, not the other way round,’ Skye told him, once more frustrated by her sprained ankle.
‘Thank you, my dear. What good care you must have taken of Norman.’
As they went back past the lodge, Skye asked, ‘When did you last have a gamekeeper here?’
‘Over a decade ago,’ Arthur told her with a wistful smile. ‘He was Annie’s father.’
It really was a local business, thought Skye. Lives were entangled. They all had a history, whereas she had nothing like that. No roots, really, thanks to her mum.
They reached the L shaped stable block, which looked in remarkably better shape than the other outbuildings in the daylight as the windows and shutters had been replaced.
‘This has been a wonderful improvement,’ said Arthur, nodding his approval. ‘They were all renovated last summer and will hopefully be rented out to local businesses.’
‘That’s a good idea,’ said Skye.
‘Eleanor uses one of them but I’m hoping for the word to spread.’
The path on the other side of the stables was much wider and soon opened up to reveal the vast grounds at the back of the main house. The autumn colours were in a full palette of russets, oranges and gold. Even on a dull day, it was enchanting.
‘This is lovely,’ said Skye. ‘You don’t get to note the passing seasons in the inner city. Apart from the window displays in shops, of course.’
‘Yes, but I bet you get a much better Indian takeaway than we do here,’ replied Arthur.
As they reached the main house, he pointed out the large patio with its uneven paving slabs and wooden gazebo set up to protect a table and chairs from the heat of the summer.
‘Not much chance of sitting out here too often at the minute,’ he said. ‘I’ve never seen the grounds so flooded. The earth is just saturated from all this rain.’
They made their way around the side of the house.
‘I never use the front door,’ said Arthur. ‘The kitchen is always the beating heart of the place. And handy if you don’t want to traipse mud over Annie’s shiny floors.’
Skye glanced down at her Ugg, which was caked in mud, and grimaced. She would definitely need to take it off before she went inside.
She hesitated before lifting her hand up to knock.
But Arthur shook his head. ‘There’s really no need to stand on ceremony with us whilst you’re staying here,’ he told her. ‘Just come and go as you please. Our home is yours, too. Remember that the lodge is yours in name as well. We always have an open door policy here for friends and family.’
He opened the door for her. After the chill of the woods, the kitchen was warm and inviting, the smell of home baking mingling with the smoke from the large fire roaring at the other end of the room.
Skye knew Arthur was being kind. But she was neither a friend nor family, was she?
But for a brief second, she surprised herself by wishing that she could be.
18
After breakfast with the family, Skye was helping with the tidying up when Annie asked her if she would like the tour of the west wing.
‘Only if you’ve got the time,’ said Skye. She didn’t want to intrude, but she really was keen to see the rest of this amazing stately home.
‘Come on, then,’ said Annie. ‘I’ll show you around. At least it’s not too cold. This time last year we had no heating, hardly any fireplaces worked and the window frames were so rotten that the draughts were more like hurricanes.’
Skye thought Annie seemed quite cheerful as she described the semi-derelict conditions they had been living in.
They took the couple of steps up out of the kitchen and back along the east wing corridor, past the dining room and some kind of storage area. Then they were back in the vast entrance hall.
Skye had only just registered the huge chandelier the previous day, but as she paused to rearrange her crutches, she was able to look up in awe as it glittered overhead.
‘Isn’t it lovely?’ asked Annie. ‘It’s original but we had it cleaned up. It’s so sparkly now.’
‘It’s gorgeous,’ Skye told her, with a nod. She could never imagine living somewhere so glamorous on a daily basis.
‘At least we can have a fire in here now,’ continued Annie as they carried on across the entrance hall. There was indeed a roaring fire giving off warmth from the huge fireplace.
‘I can’t believe it’s November already,’ said Skye.
‘I know,’ said Annie, with a grimace. ‘We’ve only got two months until we get married and there’s still so much to do. Time’s rushing past and there’s still so many decisions to be made.’
They walked into the corridor on the opposite side of the entrance hall which led to the west wing. They continued past the elegant drawing room that Skye had already briefly seen and went into the library.
Skye was amazed. A long wall was covered from floor to ceiling with a vast number of bookcases filled with classics. There was also a full size snooker table which looked to have been used recently, although one end was propped up with more books.
‘All the windows are new,’ said Annie. ‘And the fireplaces work too, thank goodness. It was so cold in here last winter. But there’s not enough money to do the rest of it. Maybe in the new year, we might have enough by then to do this room up, along with Arthur and Sam’s studies.’
On the opposite side of the corridor was Arthur’s study which was a bit messy, although not as bad as the music room which Sam was utilising for his work. That was covered in piles of paperwork. Both rooms also had new windows, but the remaining furnitur
e looked ancient and there were still cracks in the plaster across the walls.
‘And this is the ballroom where we’ll be dancing after the wedding,’ announced Annie as they entered through the double doors into the room at the end of the corridor.
Skye stared around in wide-eyed amazement. ‘Where have I seen this before?’ she wondered out loud.
‘I know,’ said Annie, with a soft smile. ‘It looks like the one in The Sound of Music. I thought the same thing the first time I saw it.’
Skye looked around, realising that was it. Despite the shabbiness and decay of the peeling and cracked ceiling, the double aspect room was huge with new windows at the front and French doors at the back leading onto the garden. On the walls were hung around twenty large paintings, their frames gilded with what could have been gold. It was hard to tell under all the dust and grime of the years.
‘Oh, I know it needs work,’ said Annie, with a shrug as she guessed Skye’s reaction. ‘Even our friend Alex, who’s an interior designer, says he’s going to leave this one to the experts. So we’ve booked a major painting restorer from France, can you believe? He’s going to clean up all these old cameos. I can’t wait. Can you imagine how fabulous it’s going to look?’
Skye nodded and went over to peer at one of the smaller paintings. It was a rural country scene but the colourful paint was hidden under decades of neglect.
‘Rose told me that the royal family used to come here to attend grand parties,’ continued Annie.
Skye nodded as she straightened up to look around once more. She could certainly see that it had been a grand room once. ‘So the work is starting soon?’ she asked.
‘At the end of the month,’ said Annie, with a worried look. ‘The restorer is busy until then. I just hope it’ll be ready for New Year’s Eve.’
‘I’m sure it will,’ Skye told her.
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