Henderson Manor
Emma L Clapperton
Published by Emma L Clapperton
www.emmalclapperton.blogspot.com
Copyright © 2014 –Emma L Clapperton
All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and should not be construed as real.
Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
For more information e-mail – [email protected]
Printed in the United Kingdom
Cover Design: Cover design by Allen Theobold
www.emmalclapperton.blogspot.com
This book is dedicated to Alexander Clapperton
and Elaine Clapperton.
Just a quick thank you, once again, to those who have helped me with Henderson Manor. Chris, your patience is amazing. Thank you to my lovely editor, Rachel. . Noelle Holten and Mark Harkin for your kind but thorough and honest advice. Casey Kelleher, Denzil Meyrick, Stephen Edger, Mel Sherratt and other fellow authors who have offered advice and help along the way. Mum, Dad, Gran and everyone else who has supported me in my work as an author. Just because your name is not here doesn’t mean you have been forgotten about.
Thank you all.
Prologue
3 May, 1950
George Henderson stood by the grave and watched as his father’s coffin was lowered into the ground. He couldn’t believe that he was here again just seven months after he had buried his mother.
George’s wife, Anna Henderson, wept softly as she watched the man she loved so dearly fight for composure. No matter what age you were, it was never easy saying goodbye to a parent. Anna knew that this time around was going to be the hardest for George, for they had only just buried Ava, shortly before Walter’s passing.
Ava and Walter Henderson were George’s late parents and a fine job they had made of it. Their son was a complete gentleman and was a credit to his parents. Having been brought up in a house that had been big enough to house an army, George was not at all spoiled or selfish. He would give his last penny to anyone who was in desperate need of it. Walter had taught him about the value of money and how the hard-working man should always bring the family together around the dinner table. George had always lived his life by that rule and it had never let him down. Walter had shown George the importance of the women in their lives and how without them, nothing would be worth working towards. Men like this were rare as far as Ava had been concerned and she was immensely proud that her only son had turned out like his father.
Anna too, was entirely proud to say that she was married to a wonderful man who had come from a wonderful family. The Henderson men came from a long line of hard-working families and nothing was ever taken for granted. This was the way that Walter Henderson had lived his life and he always made sure that his boy had understood this.
Walter Henderson had inherited the family home from his own father and he was unsure as to how long the family home had actually been in the family. It could’ve gone back several generations and he would never know. What he had known was that his own grandfather had been successful in the whisky business and it had been part of the family since the early 1800s. Walter had been raised with the thought that he would inherit the business and the family home when he turned twenty-one years old. And that is exactly what had happened. Walter had started at the bottom of the barrel, so to speak, when he had begun working in the distillery. He had learned everything there was to learn about the Scotch Whisky business and he had loved every minute of it. He loved the smell of the distillery and the grounds around the building and would spend hours just wondering what it would be like when he eventually was able to hand it over to his own son. That time had come around so quickly and he was able to watch George learn the trade and know that when his time on earth was over, he would leave knowing that his family would be financially comfortable and able to bring up the next generation of Hendersons.
George watched his family and friends around him as they grieved for his father. He had been a well-respected man, one who had made many friends and acquaintances over the years. George felt his wife squeeze his hand and it brought back the harsh reality that he would never hear Walter’s voice again, never see his gentle smile or hear his larger-than-life laugh.
“It’ll be ok, you know. He’s in a better place,” whispered Anna.
George nodded. “I know he is. It just doesn’t seem right. How am I supposed to go on, knowing that he won’t be there if I need him? Or if I have a question about the business … he won’t be there to answer me.”
Anna’s heart ached. “You will have all of the answers darling, you will. All you have to do is think of him and they will come to you.”
George wasn’t so sure. He felt completely lost without Walter who had been George’s guidance in life.
“We commit Walter’s body to the ground, ashes to ashes, dust to dust,” the priest spoke. Someone offered a box with dirt inside for George to throw the first handful in. He grabbed a fistful and squeezed as hard as he could, but for some reason he didn’t want to let go.
“Go on, George,” he heard Anna prompt.
“I can’t.”
“You can. You’re a Henderson.”
George took a deep breath, desperately trying to keep the tears at bay, before he released his fist and let the dirt fall gently on top of Walter’s coffin.
He was briefly aware that Anna was repeating the process, along with a few other family members, before George collapsed to his knees in despair.
The piper began to play ‘Amazing Grace’ as the crowd made their way back into the house. George stayed down on his knees as everyone gave him the space that he needed. Anna stayed by his side, allowing him to expel his anguish.
The springtime breeze was barely warm and the air carried a dampness which matched the circumstances of the day. Anna placed her hand upon George’s shoulder to let him know she was still there but he did not respond. “I’ll give you a moment, dear.”
He held his breath as he listened to breeze, hoping to hear his father’s voice, but of course all he heard was the breeze brushing through the tall fir trees around the grounds of Henderson Manor.
“What am I supposed to do with all of this without you?” George said out loud. He waited for an answer, willing for a sign to come and reassure him. Nothing came.
George stood up and brushed himself off. He gathered up his emotions, displayed composure once more and made his way back towards the house.
Henderson Manor was an extremely large house that some would say could pass for a hotel. It had belonged to the Henderson family of many generations and housed not only George, Anna and their son, James, along with his wife, Helen, but it also housed many memories that would be embedded in the foundations of the manor. “If only these walls could talk,” Walter used to joke.
George looked in through the kitchen door and could see Anna busying herself with trays of glasses for the people who had come to pay their respects. Of course, the family had hired help for the occasion, but it was just Anna’s way of coping with the situation. He made his way into the large kitchen, expecting Anna to begin fussing around him, like she always did. However, this time she just smiled at him and carried on with what she was doing. She was in and out of the kitchen like a woman possessed, although she carried herself like a calm breeze. She had such a gentle manner about her that even when she was angry about something, she was as polite as one could be whe
n angry. “Take as much time out as you need, dear,” she said as she poured a large brandy for him.
“Actually, would you mind pouring a whisky? If I am going to celebrate my father’s life, I may as well do it with his very own brand.”
Anna smiled but it didn’t reach her eyes. “How silly of me, of course.”
George led Anna by the hand, out to the back grounds of the house where the family plot had just received its second member. He put his arm around Anna’s shoulder and raised the other hand, holding a glass of the family brand of Henderson Whisky.
“Here’s to you, Dad. I hope you find Mum and your broken heart is finally mended. Cheers.” George threw the whisky down his throat and placed the glass down, next to the many wreaths and flowers that people had left in respect. The plot was still to be filled in.
“Let’s go inside darling,” George said.
“Are you ready to face everyone? You don’t need more time?”
“I have everything I need inside that house. Let’s go.”
1
Glasgow Royal Concert Hall was packed out for the third night in a row and Sam Leonard felt excited at the success but relief that it was finally over. He had worked on his performance for months on end and now that the show had come to a close he felt like he could finally relax. It was his first stage play where he played the lead role and he had been so nervous just thinking about it. The venue could hold 1200 people and as he stood on the stage he could see not one empty seat on any of the three nights.
His role in the play was a husband struggling with alcoholism and a failing marriage to a woman with cancer. Sam had hesitated when offered the part at first, not sure if his experience as an actor would be enough to fulfil the role. His agent had encouraged him that he was perfect for the part and so after some persuasion he signed the contract and began rehearsing.
It all seemed to go by in the blink of an eye and as the curtain rose for the final bow, Sam focused on the back of the audience. Lights flashed from the thousands of cameras in the audience and his ears buzzed from the sounds of cheers and applause.
The curtain was lowered and the rest of the cast applauded one another for their hard work and commitment to the play.
“Well done, Sam. You were fantastic yet again,” said his agent, Miles.
“Thanks. I am overwhelmed by the response!” he replied.
“You should be. They bloody love you out there.”
“Oh I don’t know about that.” Sam felt a little embarrassed.
“Are you kidding? This play is going to make you huge!” Miles patted him on the shoulder.
“Cheers Miles. I’m going to get changed. You joining us for dinner and drinks?” he said, motioning a glance to the other cast members.
“Need you ask?” Miles replied with a bright wide grin.
Sam made his way back to his dressing room and went in to the shower. He turned the switch to power mode and stood under the head, allowing the water to beat down on his neck and shoulders. He hadn’t realised it but in the last three nights his neck and shoulder muscles had been so tense that as soon as the curtain fell for the last time on that show, he felt the pounding headache set in.
He finished showering, stepped out of the cubicle and reached for his sports bag. Sam pulled out the paracetemol paracetamol and swallowed two with a large glass of water.
As he pulled on his jeans and a shirt he heard a knock at the dressing room door.
“Come in!”
“You ready yet, Mr Diva?” Miles laughed.
Sam rolled his eyes and smiled “Diva? As if mate.”
They made their way down Sauchiehall Street and were the last to arrive out of the cast and crew from the play. They had hired out three booths in a bar called ‘Lounge’ and had pre-ordered food and drinks.
A few hours passed and the Lounge bar was beginning to get busy. Sam had relaxed and his headache had subsided. He stood at the bar waiting to order a drink and couldn’t help feel eyes on him. He turned to see a young woman standing behind him. She smiled and he returned the smile.
“Hi,” she said. Her voice was soft.
“Hi,” Sam replied.
“You’re Sam Leonard, aren’t you?”
“That’s me, and your name is?”
Her smile widened. “It’s Deborah.”
Deborah Bell stood talking to Sam and her entire body felt like one huge thudding heart. She tried to control the quiver in her voice and she didn’t have to strain to hear the blood rushing through her ears.
Deborah Bell was twenty-five years old and her blond hair sat on her shoulders. Sam was almost a whole head and shoulders taller than she was and this made her feel even more nervous. She was Sam’s biggest fan and she found it difficult to keep that information under control.
“Would you like a drink?” Sam asked.
“Thanks, I’ll have a vodka with lime please.”
As Sam turned to order the drinks, Deborah stood behind him and tried to compose herself. She had never had the guts to actually approach him before now but her determination to meet him just once pushed her to do it tonight. She just wished that her heart would calm down as it was banging so hard against her chest now and she was sure that if in a quiet room even he would hear it.
She had watched Sam for a long time on television and had been to all of the plays he had appeared in. She always knew what his next job was and where he would be appearing. She admired his work, followed his acting career and most of all thought that he was the most beautiful man ever to have been created.
She reminded herself to play cool; if he learned just how much she knew of him, just what she had gone through to be near him, it might scare him off. But all she wanted right now was to have a drink with him.
He turned to face her, passing her the glass as he did so. “So, what are you up to tonight?” he asked.
Shit! I didn’t think this question through.
She searched her brain for a quick answer. “My friends are upstairs. I wanted a drink but the bar upstairs is too busy so I thought I would chance using this one. Oh, thanks by the way,” she held up the drink.
Nice one.
“Oh, am I keeping you?” he asked.
“Not at all, most of their boyfriends are here, so to be honest you’re keeping me from feeling like a bit of a spare part.”
Sam smiled. She seemed nice; she was quite pretty and not, as far as he could tell, like the rest of the girls who had approached him in the past. They all instantly turned out to be crazy and all they could talk about was him and how much they watched him on television, read all about him in magazines, or how in the latest interview they found out his favourite colour and how much they fancied him. Sam wasn’t looking for a woman who thought she already knew him inside out. He wanted the normal first date where a couple actually talked and got to know one another by asking questions, not by watching him on television or reading about him in the newspaper.
“Oh right, your boyfriend not here tonight then?” he asked.
Deborah’s stomach flipped and she had to contain the giggle that crept up from her throat. “I don’t have one actually.”
“No? Well, you’ll be able to join me for more drinks then.” It wasn’t a question.
“Why not?” she replied trying not to sound too excited.
Instead of going back to the table where the rest of the cast were drinking and celebrating the last night of the show, Sam took Deborah’s hand and led her to another booth that was catered for two people.
Deborah’s heart raced and the more time she spent with him the more she became attracted to him. “You don’t want to join your friends?” she asked.
“Not really. I have spent the last eight months with them, day in and day out. A few hours without them won’t kill me,” he smiled.
Sam allowed Deborah to slide in to the booth first and she thought that he would sit opposite her but instead he sat next to her.
I don’t know how much fa
ster my heart can beat before it explodes.
“So, tell me about yourself,” Sam said.
Deborah felt lost for words and she couldn’t suppress the smile that was beginning to make her cheeks ache. “I’m actually at university.”
“What are you studying?”
“I am studying for a degree in Journalism,” she replied.
“Cool. Are you nearly finished?”
“Actually I am doing a placement at the moment,” she said. She questioned whether or not she should reveal where the placement was and that she had asked her lecturer if she could go to that particular venue.
“Where is your placement?” he asked, oblivious to her nerves.
She decided not to tell him just yet. “I am in a local newspaper office. It’s just small, and nothing exciting happens really.”
He was nodding as she spoke, enjoying the conversation. There were a few moments where he stared into her eyes. Again her heart raced and now all she wanted was to kiss him.
“So you’re an actor?” she broke the silence, maintaining her self - control.
“That I am. Have you seen any of my stuff?” he asked, hoping that she wasn’t going to turn out a fanatical fan.
“Just the play tonight,” she lied. She was aware of everything he had worked on. Television adverts, television dramas, newspaper articles, magazine interviews, radio interviews. She had even followed him to the venues where he worked on all of those things, but thankfully he had never come across her. If he had, they wouldn’t be sitting here tonight.
“Oh, you were in the theatre? What did you think?” his eyes lit up.
“You were very good. You play a good drunk,” she said with a smile.
What she really wanted to say was that she thought that he was amazing and that if love at first sight was real then she was very much in love with him. Deborah knew that what she was feeling for Sam Leonard was not normal, but the lust to have him and the uncontrollable desire within to keep him near her right now was becoming unbearable.
Henderson Manor Page 1
