‘Good evening, Laura, how nice to see you.’
‘Evening, Mrs Simmons,’ said Laura, mounting the steps. ‘I wondered if—’
‘His lordship particularly wanted me to look out for you, he said to send you straight over to the maze.’
Any faint hope she had of doing this in private was gone. ‘Great. Thank you. I’ll … great.’ Laura strode off, feeling like a prisoner on her way to the Tower.
The maze had only recently been restored. It had once been one of the glories of the house and something of an early tourist attraction. Prime Ministers, Turkish Sultans, European nobles: they had all paid special visits to Chartley in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries to see if they were clever enough to make their way to the centre and out again.
But after Nick’s mother left, his father and the house fell into a Sleeping Beauty-like trance and the maze was, along with so much else, forgotten about. The box hedging had been allowed to rot and die, and when Laura first came to the house it was a large yellowing mulch, from which there was no sign of the original layout.
One night, not long after she had returned from America, she and Nick had been in the library, turning over old books together, with no sound but the two of them and the crackle of the log fire in the huge grate while an autumn storm raged outside. It had been a lovely if sometimes awkward day, getting to know and trust each other again. Suddenly, Laura had given a yell of exclamation, ‘Look! Look, Nick! These are the old plans for the maze. This is it! It’s bloody it!’ He’d come over, the fire reflecting and flashing in his dark eyes. Glancing at the old yellowing papers she’d spread out on the wide table, he’d turned to her.
‘God I love you, Laura Foster.’ He’d caught her in his arms and twirled her round until they collapsed on the floor in a happy heap, and the plans nearly went up in flames.
When she reached the maze, she stopped at the entrance to the glossy box hedges and glanced into the dark green. It was quiet here, separated from the rest of the park by an oval of oak trees. Stone benches flanked the outside of the maze and a wood pigeon called lazily through the afternoon haze.
‘Nick?’ she called awkwardly. ‘Nick, it’s me. It’s Laura.’
No answer. She turned round. A blackbird, hopping along the grass, eyed her curiously.
‘Nick?’ she yelled again.
Should she just go? She looked round again, not sure what to do. The setting sun hung over the bottom of the huge park like a giant, rose-gold ball.
‘I’m inside,’ came a distant voice. ‘Come and find me.’
Laura hesitated.
‘Who is that?’ she called.
The voice laughed. ‘Laura, it’s me, you idiot. Who else would it be?’
Laura entered the maze. ‘I don’t know,’ she said, listening carefully. Her heart was in her throat at the idea that he was so near and yet so distant from her. ‘It might be … well, some kind of homicidal maniac. Waiting with an axe. You can’t be too careful.’
‘You’re right.’ His voice was nearer. She turned the first corner, back on herself. ‘If I was a homicidal maniac with an axe, I’d definitely spend hours making my way to the centre of a maze then lie in wait for hapless visitors. That’s definitely how I’d ply my trade.’
Laura stopped. The spicy, grassy smell of the box hedge hung over everything. At the end of the passage were two turnings. An arrow had been hung from the tree, and a sign, decorated with bunting, said:
‘It’s cheating to have a maze where you point out the route.’ Laura kept following the arrows. ‘Now I’m further away than I ever was.’ There was silence. ‘Nick?’
But there was no answer. She put her hand to her collarbone and breathed deeply, trying not to feel panicked or cross. She walked on slowly, following the curve of the circle almost back to where she’d started.
Then she saw the next sign, festooned with fairy lights.
Laura frowned. ‘Nick?’ The path doubled back again to the outermost circle of the maze. This couldn’t be right, could it? She read the sign again, her heart pounding.
And suddenly she heard her grandmother Mary’s voice. She used to hear it all the time in the year or so after she’d died, but not recently. Not until now.
You have a great capacity to love, Laura. Use it. Stop wasting it. Throw yourself into it and don’t be scared.
‘Nick?’
She started walking again, more quickly this time. The maze twisted to the left and then to the right, but each turn had an arrow showing her the way, and at the end was another sign, covered in flowers, bunting and fairy lights.
‘Nick? Nick?’
‘I’m here,’ the voice called back. ‘I’m right here.’
She walked to the end of the hedge, two more turns and she was at the centre, and there, waiting for her, was Nick. In one hand he held the last arrow. His face was white, his dark eyes fixed on her.
‘Laura, you’re here,’ he said. ‘You’re finally here.’
Rule Twelve:
Never walk into a maze unless someone knows the way out.
Laura took it all in: the fairy lights strung along the hedges, two chairs decorated with wild flowers, and a table covered with clutter, material and bits of wood, as Nick came towards her.
‘Lavinia and Charles helped me. Are you surprised?’
Laura’s head was spinning. She stared up at him. ‘Why have you brought me here, Nick? To make some kind of fool of me?’
He froze for a second, and his voice was quiet when he answered. ‘I thought … it’s supposed to be a surprise.’
Her voice was hard. ‘A surprise for me? Or for Lara?’
He looked blank. ‘For you, of course – what’s Lara got to do with it?’
Laura pulled out her phone and took a deep breath. ‘You sent me this text, didn’t you?’ He glanced at it. ‘And then I saw you and Lara together. On the street outside your flat. You didn’t see me.’
Nick sounded bewildered. ‘Who are you? Someone out of Midsomer Murders? Why are you stealing my texts and following me around town?’ He took her hand again. ‘Laura, I know I’ve been an idiot the last couple of weeks. A total prick. I can’t tell you how sorry I am.’ He kissed her fingers, each in turn. ‘The estate has been taking all my time lately, Rose has been winding me up and Charles is distracted because of the kids and my lunatic sister. I know I’m not patient enough sometimes, I don’t put myself in your shoes. I’ve been trying to sort it all out so that I could—’
‘Look, I know what’s happening,’ Laura interrupted, pulling her hands out of his grasp. ‘I know you’re having an affair with Lara, Nick. For God’s sake, just admit it.’ She waved her phone at him. ‘Didn’t you hear me? You sent me that text by mistake. And I saw the two of you talking, I … I saw you!’ She felt her voice cracking. ‘You said you wanted her to come to Chartley and she said, “I’m glad you’ve made up your mind, she wasn’t right for you, everyone knows it.”’ Tears were falling down her cheeks and she gave a huge sob, the tension of this last week finally catching up with her. ‘I s–s–stood there and heard you say it, don’t deny it.’
He came towards her, concern etched on his face. ‘My God. Oh my God, Laura. I’m so, so sorry.’
She stepped back. ‘So it’s true, isn’t it? I mean, you’re right. She’s right. About me not being right for you.’
‘Don’t ever say that.’ He shook his head, a pulse throbbing in his cheek. ‘Laura, I meant Rose. I have to do something about her. I’ve been letting it go on for too long. I’ve been a chicken. That’s what Lara’s here for.’
‘Pull the other one. It’s got bells on.’
‘She is! I’ve hired Lara, she’s Head of Marketing!’
Laura said sarcastically, ‘Head of Marketing? What are you, an ad agency?’
‘How else is this place going to survive?’ he said with a twisted half smile. ‘That’s what all the big houses have these days. Lions at Longleat, concerts at Woburn Abbey, the Mitfords and
the grounds and the farm shop and everything else at Chatsworth.’
Laura watched him with her arms still crossed. ‘But, Nick … you hate all of that. You hate the Costa Coffees going into stately homes, I’ve heard you say that so many times.’
‘But it’s still my future, our future, and I have to work out our plan for Chartley too. I’m not joking, it’s do or die. You know, there’s more, not less, interest in places like these every day, maybe it’s the Downton effect. And Laura, I love the house. I don’t want us to lose it. I’m sorry. I wish it wasn’t like this, but it is. It’s part of me.’
‘Oh, Nick.’ She stared at him. ‘Of course it is. I know that.’
‘There’s nothing round here for young people, no jobs, no nothing. Lara’s going to redo the stables and start a proper restaurant, with everything grown on the estate. We’re going to run a youth programme, a bit like Jamie Oliver’s Fifteen foundation, to train up people who want to get into catering and gardening. I’ll run it. There’s going to be a big farm shop, we’re building affordable housing out towards the village, and they’re filming a new Keira Knightley movie here next year. Lara says that’ll take visitor numbers right up.’
He grabbed her hands. ‘Listen to me. She’s going to take on a lot of the responsibility of the estate, we’re going to plough more than ever back into the community, and, well, I didn’t tell you because I’ve been planning all this so I could tell you when …’ He was pale. ‘Laura, for God’s sake! You seriously thought I’d cheat on you?’
‘I’m sorry, I …’ She stopped. ‘… I believed it. I’ve been an idiot.’
He pressed her hands to his chest. ‘How on earth have we ended up like this?’
‘It’s my fault,’ Laura began, and then she shook her head. ‘It’s partly my fault.’
‘This was supposed to all be a wonderful surprise, saving the best bit till last. The funding’s in place for your centre.’
Her eyes lit up. ‘Seriously?’
‘Absolutely. Lara sorted that out, too. She’s persuaded some big bank to donate the rest. Guilt money. She was there the other day at the opening, I was terrified you’d see and guess what was going on.’
‘I saw her,’ Laura said casually.
‘And that’s not all. Rose is going to work for a charitable trust in London, she got the job through that bloke she dragged to the bookshop. He’s the head of some government agency.’
‘Typical.’
‘Well, to be fair, she’ll be good at it,’ Nick said, ever loyal.
Laura swallowed down an unkind remark and said, ‘Rose would have done a good job with this place. I feel sorry for her.’
‘I don’t,’ said Nick. ‘She’s absolutely fine. Skin as thick as a rhino’s.’
‘God.’ Laura pressed her hands to her flushed cheeks. ‘I’ve got this all so wrong. I mean, wow! Really wrong. So, um, when does Lara move down here?’
‘She’s here already. She has a place by the sea.’
‘Oh, right.’
‘She’s really nice, Laura. We’re stabling her horses. It’s all set, she’s really excited about it. She was brilliant today. She was the one opening the library window up at the house – that was the signal that you were on your way. It flashes in the afternoon sun.’
‘I …’ Laura pushed each forefinger into her temple. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Of course I’m sure. Her husband’s coming over tonight to help – well, you’ll see later. We’ve got a bit of a celebration planned. I hope.’
‘Her husband?’
‘She’s been married for three years. I was best man at the wedding,’ Nick said.
‘But the newspapers said you went out with her when I was in the States …’ Laura put her hands over her face and made a noise, something between a sob, a laugh and a moan.
‘The newspapers! You read it in a newspaper and you don’t even ask me if it’s true or not? I’ve never been out with her. I kissed her when we were ten, does that count?’
‘Oh my word.’
‘Oh my word indeed. Listen.’ Gently, he pulled her hands away from her face and stared into her eyes. They were both still, the afternoon sun bathing them in golden light.
‘Listen to me, Laura. I wrote those signs because I wanted you to come and find me here. Because I wanted to tell you I understand a relationship is like a maze. You just have to find your way through.’ Nick stopped and took a deep breath. ‘I meant what I said when I wrote it. As long as you trust me, I promise you’ll never get lost. Ever, Laura. This is my home. It’s where I live. I love you. I’ll always love you. I don’t want you to go back to London. I want you to stay here and make it your home too.’
As she moved towards him, Nick dropped to his knees and stared up at her, his brown eyes solemn.
‘Laura Foster, will you marry me?’
Laura fell to her knees, too. She stared at him, biting her lip, and closed her eyes.
‘Oh, Nick,’ she whispered. ‘I want to … so much.’
He looked at her and she looked at him, and the two of them started laughing. He took her hand in his and kissed it. ‘Listen, my darling,’ he said softly. ‘This is how it’ll work. I’ll have my job – running the estate, kissing babies, all that lot. You’ll have your job – running Laura’s Place, the visitors’ centre at the back, the reading programmes and all of that. And we’ll come home in the evenings to Chartley. The builders have started work already. There’s going to be a separate door installed and we’re opening up the south staircase just for us, with soundproofing so no one can hear us. We’ll have our own kitchen, sitting room, everything. We’ll choose all the wallpaper and curtains and everything together. Or you can choose them yourself. I want you to feel like it’s your home. And this.’ He reached up and took something off the table, pushing the fabric samples aside, sending them fluttering to the floor. ‘Here, Laura.’
It was a small brass plaque, with holes all ready to nail into the wall.
This is Nick and Laura’s Place
Press bell and wait for admittance
‘This is going on our front door, you see? At the bottom of the stairs. We’ll come home, unlock our own front door and hang our coats up on our own coat hooks.’
‘Right. Can we have my coat rack that Granny gave me? The one with owls on it?’
‘I hate the way those owls stare at me like they’re going to nibble my coat. But … OK!’ They smiled at each other. ‘Wow. If that’s a dealbreaker, then, yup. We’ll kick our shoes off, have a glass of wine. We’ll laugh about the funny things that happened during our day. You know, some kid was sick on a pile of books or someone chopped his finger off in a threshing machine, that kind of thing …’
‘That doesn’t sound very mellow,’ Laura interrupted. ‘I’m out.’
He slid his hands around her waist and pulled her towards him. ‘Then we’ll have some dinner in our own kitchen, and we’ll sit in our own sitting room, and we’ll read or watch more boxsets about horrible murders or something, and then we’ll go to bed and sleep and – whatever.’ He bent his head to look at her, and she raised hers to meet him and they kissed.
‘There’ll be no one arriving in the middle of the night to tell you about a silage crisis?’
‘No,’ he said, kissing her back, his lips warm and smooth. She felt as though she were swallowing caramel, sweetness ran through her, lighting her up.
‘No sisters storming in demanding to have some painting removed to their house in London or some cash for their hypno-birthing course?’
‘Definitely no, and I’m sorry again about that.’
‘Just us two?’
‘Just us two,’ he said. ‘And whoever else comes along.’
‘That sounds OK to me,’ she said. He kissed her again and moved so his arms were holding her tightly, so she could feel the muscles under his skin move as she clung to him, tears running down her cheeks.
As if reading her mind, Nick said, ‘I thought I was losing yo
u. I thought you realised you’d made a mistake in coming back and I … I didn’t know how to make you believe it wasn’t a mistake.’ His voice was hoarse. ‘Dammit, Laura, I’ve screwed everything up. I wanted to tell you about Lara today, as part of the whole romantic proposal thing. I didn’t realise it’d …’ His arms tightened around her, his breath warm on her neck. ‘Oh my darling. I’ve been so stupid. I forgot the most important thing of all.’ He kissed her forehead.
‘What’s that?’
‘That we work together. We just do. And I can’t imagine my life without you.’
He stepped back and, still holding her hand in his, fumbled in his pocket. ‘Hey, you haven’t actually answered my question. Will you marry me?’ he said again, taking out a ring.
It was gold, with a diamond and sapphire twisted together. Laura gasped. ‘That’s Granny’s ring,’ she said. ‘How did you …?’
‘I was actually down in London this week to see your dad,’ Nick said. He smiled. ‘Not to conduct a secret affair.’
Laura shook her head, trying not to laugh, it was such an important moment. ‘You went to see Mum and Dad?’
‘I had lunch with them. I helped your mum with the garden, then your dad and I went to—’
She interrupted. ‘You went to Robert Dyas, didn’t you? With Dad? While I was sobbing and breaking my heart over you having an affair with some old blonde friend of yours.’
‘Be fair. I didn’t know you were sobbing and breaking your heart over me having an affair with some old blonde friend of mine. But yes, I went to Robert Dyas with your dad. We looked at leaf blowers. He bought me my own barbecue tongs. He said it was his way of welcoming me to the family.’
Rules for Dating a Romantic Hero Page 6
