Julia took a large gulp of her wine. ‘What are you doing here?’ she managed.
‘Oh well, you know how it is: thought I’d just pop across the world and visit Bangkok on a whim,’ he replied, laughter in his eyes. ‘What the hell do you think I’m doing here, Julia? I’ve come to see you, of course.’
‘How did you know I was here?’
‘I hardly need to put Interpol on the case if I want to find you, Julia. I mean, your sister does live just down the road from me,’ Kit grinned. ‘But, actually, it was Lidia who alerted me to your whereabouts. She gave me a call, suggesting I tip up here before you buzzed off elsewhere. And just in the nick of time, it seems. I hope you don’t mind.’
The lightness with which Kit was handling the situation was an instant reminder of everything he was. Julia smiled. ‘No, of course I don’t.’
‘Could I take that one step further, perhaps, and ask if you’re actually glad to see me?’
‘Yes. I am.’
‘Phew!’ Kit wiped his brow dramatically. ‘Lidia assured me you would be, but when I was somewhere over the Himalayas I broke out in a cold sweat, wondering whether this was some weird re-enactment of an old woman’s fantasy. Which, to be fair, it may well be. There’s quite a parallel between her past situation and our current one.’
Julia fingered her glass, studying it intently. Her heart was beating so hard she felt breathless. ‘I know.’
‘Not really in my line to chase across the world after a woman who happened to have left me. But, under the circumstances, I decided you were worth a punt.’
Julia raised her eyes. ‘Kit, I didn’t want to leave you, I …’
Kit put a finger gently to her lips. ‘I’m teasing you, Julia, there’s no need to say any more. Lidia, in her role as Fairy Godmother, has explained everything. And then she waved her magic wand and there was a First Class ticket to Bangkok on the doormat at Wharton Park. Not a return, I might add, so you’ll have to lend me a few bob if you want me to go away.’
‘Oh, Kit …’ Julia’s eyes filled with tears as she realised Lidia had gone to great lengths to provide her with a signpost. ‘Sorry,’ she said, quickly wiping a tear from her cheek.
‘Don’t be. It really was no hardship, especially in First Class … but mostly because I happen to love you.’
‘I love you too,’ Julia whispered.
Kit drew nearer to her and studied her face. ‘Don’t tell me that was actually a furtive vocal admission of the fact you might reciprocate my feelings?’
‘Yes, it was.’ Julia smiled.
‘Right.’ It was Kit’s turn to look down, suddenly unsure what to say next. ‘Do you really, Julia?’ he asked quietly.
‘Yes, Kit, I do. I love you … horribly, and I’ve been miserable every day since I last saw you.’
‘Then your old Thai granny isn’t the mad box of frogs I thought she was,’ he replied in wonder.
‘No, she isn’t. She’s completely in possession of all her marbles.’
‘Unlike me,’ admitted Kit, ‘who’s just made a mad dash halfway across the world, not knowing what reaction to expect. Until now,’ he added softly. He reached for her hand and Julia gave it to him willingly. ‘I can’t bear to fall into clichés but, God, you look beautiful tonight, sweetheart,’ he whispered. ‘And I don’t think I’ve ever been quite so glad to see another human being in my entire life.’
He kissed her, full on the lips, and Julia responded with equal passion.
‘Whilst I’ve got you here, and just in case you disappear again, I also thought I might as well get it all out of the way in one go and ask you whether you fancied marrying me?’ Kit indicated their surroundings. ‘Given the history, can’t think of anywhere more perfect to ask you, really.’
‘Oh, Kit, I’d love to say yes,’ Julia chuckled at how ridiculous this was going to sound, ‘that is, just as soon as I’ve got divorced!’
‘Ah, that’s not really in the script is it? But hey-ho, nothing’s perfect.’ He smiled at her and rubbed his nose against hers.
Their fingers entwined.
‘Oh, by the way, I’ve brought you a present.’
‘Really?’ said Julia.
‘Yes.’
Kit reached beneath his chair and brought up a strange-looking black plant. He put it in front of her. ‘There. It’s for you.’
Julia studied the ink-black petals in surprise. ‘I didn’t think you could get black orchids.’
‘You can’t. God forgot to get round to them, so Kit gave him some help. Don’t worry, darling, all you need do is pour water over it. Then it’ll go back to the beautiful pink it was before I started painting it.’ He indicated the small scroll tucked into the side of the pot. ‘That fable will explain it. One way and another, I thought it was rather apt.’
Julia reached for the scroll, but Kit stopped her. ‘Read it later, my very own Hothouse Flower, and please, when you have, don’t be getting any ideas above your station. Remember, this is the new millennium, and all the rules governing male and female behaviour have changed. Except for one,’ he added as an afterthought.
‘And what’s that?’
Kit looked into her eyes and answered simply: ‘Love.’
60
Wharton Park
January
Despite hours of debate at the kitchen table, and weeks spent sweating over reams of figures, Kit finally decided that the Wharton Park Estate had to be sold.
‘With the best will in the world, we just can’t do it, sweetheart,’ Kit said as they drowned their sorrows with a bottle of wine in the library. ‘I know it’s going to break your heart, but I really can’t see any other way. Even with a grant from English Heritage, we still can’t afford what needs doing. It’s a drop in the ocean.’
‘I know,’ Julia replied miserably. ‘If only Xavier hadn’t come back from the dead, and wasn’t angling for half of everything I’ve earned, we could probably just have done it.’ She shivered and huddled closer to the fire. The house was freezing as the boiler had packed up, yet again.
Kit stroked her hair. ‘Julia, even if you did have the money, there’s part of me that’s still Neanderthal and would find it difficult if my future wife were providing the funds that Wharton Park needs. And we must think of the house: hand it over with grace to someone who does have the wherewithal to put everything right.’
‘I know, but it doesn’t make parting with it any easier. Wharton Park isn’t just a house. It’s where we met. And it’s in my blood. If there was anything I could do to save it, I would.’ Julia banged her fist on the hearth. ‘Damn Xavier! The one time in my life I’ve actually needed all the money I’ve never spent! I can’t believe he’s being such a –’
‘You don’t need to say it,’ Kit replied sympathetically. ‘Anyway, I’m going to speak to the estate agent tomorrow and put it back on the market. I’m sorry, Julia, but we really don’t have a choice.’
Ten days later, the agent called to say there was a foreign buyer who had put in a bid to buy the entire estate at the asking price. If they accepted the offer, the buyer would fly immediately to England to sign on the dotted line.
It was an offer they both knew they could not refuse.
Julia stoked the fire in the library and arranged a few snowdrops on the table. It was a paltry and reluctant effort to make for the buyer, who was due to arrive in the next half hour.
‘Probably some ghastly Russian oligarch and his platinum-haired mistress,’ Julia commented as she slammed some coffee cups on to a tray.
Kit watched her petulance, knowing it was masking her sadness. Losing Wharton Park would be a far greater blow for Julia than for him.
At eleven thirty, the bell rang and Kit answered it, opening the door. A liveried chauffer was standing behind it.
‘Madam is here,’ he announced, indicating a limousine parked in the house. ‘She wonders whether you would escort her into the house?’
‘Of course.’ Kit looked at Julia and rai
sed his eyebrows as the chauffeur returned down the steps towards the car.
‘Christ!’ exclaimed Julia. ‘Who does “Madam” think she is? The Queen?’
‘Come on, sweetheart, let’s grit our teeth and get this over and done with, okay?’ Kit squeezed her hand and led her down the steps to the car.
They stood together, waiting uncomfortably by the car door as the chauffer opened it to reveal the passenger behind the tinted windows.
Julia did a double-take and then shrieked in pleasure.
‘Lidia! What on earth are you doing here?’
‘Surprise!’ Lidia stepped out of the car and hugged her granddaughter warmly. ‘Oh, it is a wonderful thing to be so old and so rich, and use both to play magical tricks on people!’ Her tinkling laugh filled the still Wharton Park air.
Then, holding on to Julia, she turned and looked up at the house for the first time.
‘So, this is Wharton Park. Many times in my life I have imagined it, and yet it is far more magnificent than I dream.’ She turned to Julia with a twinkle in her eye. ‘No wonder it won over me! Now,’ she tucked her free arm into Kit’s elbow, ‘take me inside and show me around. And then, afterwards, I explain everything.’
Once Lidia had taken a guided tour of the main parts of the house, declaring herself too exhausted to look any further, they returned to the library and Lidia had her chauffeur produce a bottle of the best champagne from inside the limousine.
‘I would like to toast the house that has affected all our lives: to Wharton Park.’
Julia and Kit clinked their glasses against hers. ‘To Wharton Park,’ they repeated.
‘Now,’ said Lidia, sitting down. ‘I wish to explain my plan to you. As I tell to you in Bangkok, Julia, my husband leave me very rich woman. And by rich, I mean very rich,’ she underlined. ‘Of course, before I meet you, Julia, I think I will share this money out amongst members of my family and the charities I support. But then, suddenly, I have direct heir, so I change my will when you leave Bangkok last time to leave most of my money to you.’
‘Granny, that’s awfully kind of you but …’
‘Hush, Julia, let me finish,’ Lidia chided. ‘Then, when we speak last week, you tell me Wharton Park is for sale, because you cannot afford to pay off debts or restore the house. So … I decide I will buy it. It will be mine.’ Lidia clasped her tiny hands together in glee.
‘You want to live here?’ asked Kit, confused.
‘No, Kit. Julia know how I hate the cold. I will be your landlady. You will live here and, with money I pay you for Wharton Park, I entrust you to pay off debts and oversee the restoration for me. And, of course, this task is also for yourselves and future generations of our family,’ she added softly. ‘On my death, Julia, Wharton Park will become yours.’
There was a pause, as Kit and Julia took time to comprehend what Lidia was suggesting.
‘My goodness! It’s awfully generous of you, Lidia,’ Kit replied finally, realising Julia was too overwhelmed to speak.
‘Well, I think it is good joke,’ Lidia’s amber eyes sparkled, ‘that the poor Thai girl, abandoned all those years ago by the owner of this house, buys it for her granddaughter, almost sixty-five years later. Do you not think so too?’
Julia nodded, still stunned into silence.
‘It is all very perfect,’ smiled Lidia happily. ‘When Julia marry you, Kit, my granddaughter will finally be Lady Crawford of Wharton Park. And the journey Harry and I start together all those years ago will have been completed. Please tell me you think well of my idea?’ She looked at Julia anxiously.
Julia finally spoke. ‘Lidia, are you sure this is what you want?’
‘Julia, Ka, I have never been so sure of anything in my life. Kit, do you feel comfortable about my plan?’ she asked.
‘Lidia, we all know that, by rights, this house should be Julia’s anyway.’ Kit turned to Julia and reached for her hand. ‘And I’d be very happy to stay and do my bit to help return Wharton Park to its former glory. I love the place too. And I know how much you do, darling,’ he added, gently reassuring Julia with his eyes. ‘It really is the most wonderful offer, Lidia.’
‘All I ask is, occasionally, I may be welcome as your guest here and meet your English family. Your father, Julia, and of course, Elsie, who take care of my daughter with so much love.’
‘Of course you can,’ Julia finally found her voice, ‘whenever you want. I’ve told Elsie all about you, and she would so love to meet you.’
‘So,’ said Lidia, ‘there is little more to say. Tell me you agree, Kit, and I can sign all papers before I return to Thailand next week.’
‘Of course I agree,’ answered Kit. ‘It’s a wonderful offer.’
‘And you, Julia?’ Lidia asked gently.
‘I love this house so much, Lidia, it would be very difficult for me to say no.’ Julia’s voice was choked with emotion. ‘I just can’t believe we can stay here. Thank you, thank you so much.’ Julia stood up and hugged Lidia tightly.
‘All this in return for one favour, Julia,’ Lidia added, taking Julia’s hands into her own. ‘I wish to go back to the drawing room, so I can listen whilst you play for me, on my Harry’s beautiful grand piano.’
The three of them entered the drawing room and Julia sat down in front of the piano.
Kit watched Lidia’s eyes fill with tears as the opening notes of Chopin’s ‘Études’ fell effortlessly from her granddaughter’s gifted fingers.
He realised the circle had been completed; each of them with their own place in the story that had spanned generations, reunited here together at Wharton Park, which itself had played such a major role in the tapestry they and others had woven.
All that remained now, Kit thought, was to begin a new circle.
He looked down at Julia and knew that, together, they would.
Epilogue
Wharton Park
December, eleven months later
It is Christmas Eve. I am standing by the window in the bedroom I share with Kit, overlooking the park. The scene outside is not as it is in high summer but, as the sun rises, making the frost glitter on the barren winter landscape, it has its own particular beauty.
I turn away from the window and step back into the warm room, my feet sinking into the newly laid carpet. I admire the wallpaper, hand-painted to copy the original, and enjoy the faint smell of fresh paint.
In the past year, Kit has overseen this transformation single-handedly. I can take no credit, as I was busy on other projects. Wharton Park looks as it did, yet everything inside and out is on its way to being restored, to protect another seventy years of Crawfords, who will play out their lives within its walls. Soon, it will be Kit’s turn to follow his own dream, still tucked safely within the walls of Wharton Park, but using his talent and experience to help children outside of them.
I am the new Lady of the house. On the day of my marriage to Kit, I wore the necklace and earrings that Olivia, and generations of Crawford brides, wore before me. They are mine now, to hand on to my son’s bride when he marries.
As with Olivia, Wharton Park must always play a big part in my life. But I have learnt, through stories of the past and my own experience, that everything must have a balance. I will use and appreciate the gift I have been given to nurture and protect my family and my talent, but never allow it to destroy them.
Alerted by the faintest sound, I leave Kit sleeping and pad silently through the bathroom to the small room beyond. This was once Harry Crawford’s dressing room, but we have converted it into a nursery. I peep over the cot and see that the perpetrator of the sound is still asleep, his thumb stuck firmly in his rosebud-shaped mouth.
Everyone tells me he looks like me, but I know he doesn’t. He looks like himself.
‘Today, Harry,’ I whisper to him, ‘is a special day for you.’
He lies, innocent in sleep, unaware that his family – some of whom have travelled from the other side of the world – are gathering
to watch him undertake his first rite of passage as he is christened in the small church on the estate. One day, his last rite of passage will also take place there, and he will be laid in the Crawford family vault and reunited with his forebears for eternity. But his tapestry has only just begun and I can only hope it will contain many more stitches than his half-brother’s before him.
He does not realise the link he provides to the past and the future. Or the weight of responsibility his privileged start in life will give him. I have sworn to him it will never hold him back from living the life he chooses. Or from spending that life with the woman he loves.
I gather the six weeks of new life gently into my arms, relishing this moment alone with him. After this, there will be little time for me to enjoy him, for I have much to do today. The house is full of guests, here to enjoy Christmas at Wharton Park with us. The tree has been cut from the woods and installed in the entrance hall, bedecked with twinkling lights and the same decorations that have been used for generations.
I kiss his sweet-smelling forehead, look up and call upon God to protect him, understanding so well that my powers as a mother are limited, and I know I must accept that.
Through the pain and the joy of the journey I have made in the past two years, I have learnt the most important lesson life can offer, and I am glad of it.
The moment is all we have.
Acknowledgements
Mari Evans and all the team at Penguin, who bought the book. Jonathan Lloyd, my agent, who has believed in me through thick and very thin. The ‘Coven’ – Adriana Hunter, for the ‘oui’ pub and the commas, Susan Moss, Rosalind Hudson, Helene Rampton, Tracy Blackwell and Jenny Dufton, whose generous support during difficult times got me through.
In Thailand, the amazing staff of the Oriental Hotel, especially Khun Ankhana, who generously shared her memories of life in Bangkok in 1945, Kitima, Thanadol, Lidia, Jack, Laor and Jeab. In France, Tony and Fiona Bourne for the gin and the forest fire, and Agnes Sorocki for help with my bad French and lifts to the airport. And the amazing Kathleen Mackenzie, my Fairy Godmother, who is always there when I call for her and is the most special person I know.
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