Saving Willowbrook

by Anna Jacobs

  When she went to bed, she lay awake for a while, reliving the evening, worrying about Brett Harding, about the loan, about her home . . . till eventually tiredness claimed her.

  But she dreamed about Cameron O’Neal, dreamed of being held by him, kissed by him.

  In the morning, remembering those dreams, she was angry with herself. How stupid could you get? Act your age, Ella Turner, she ordered. Show a bit of sense. You’re not a man-mad teenager.

  But she was so tired of being sensible. And she did miss having a man in her life, the companionship, the support, the fun – and the loving.

  Brett Harding was charged with being in charge of a motor vehicle with excess alcohol and once the formalities were over, he rang his father to come and pick him up.

  His father was furious and didn’t spare him when he turned up. Brett knew better than to argue, so bowed his head and put up with the tirade in silence. This was all that bitch’s fault, leading a man on.

  ‘Are you still conscious?’

  He realized his father had asked a question and was waiting for a reply. ‘Sorry, what did you say?’

  ‘I asked what the hell you were doing, driving one of my vans in that condition. It’s a total write-off now. What was wrong with your own car?’

  ‘Needs a new carburettor.’

  ‘I didn’t see it at the garage.’

  ‘I forgot to book it in.’

  ‘You’d forget your head if it wasn’t nailed on, you would. And if you weren’t my only son, heaven help me, you’d be out on your ear. I’m still tempted to fire you anyway, and I would if it weren’t for your mother. Where had you been tonight?’

  ‘I’d been out to Willowbrook, seeing Ella Turner.’

  ‘I didn’t know you two were involved.’

  ‘Yeah. Sort of.’

  ‘She’s got encumbrances, that one, and the child’s disabled.’

  Brett snickered. ‘It’s not the child I’m interested in. And who’s talking about marriage?’

  ‘You should be. It’s more than time you settled down and by hell, after this, you’ll cut down on the drinking or you really will be out on your ear. Your mother’s worried about you and no wonder. You’re looking bloated and unhealthy. At your age, I was lean as a whippet, working all the hours God sent to build up my business and . . .’

  Brett closed his eyes and let the words flow over him. He’d heard it all before. Too many times. There were more things in life than working and once he inherited the family business he’d leave others to do the dirty work and enjoy a very different lifestyle from his father’s.

  He didn’t want marriage from Ella Turner, or from anyone else. Definitely not. He wasn’t putting on the manacles.

  Then they arrived home and he had to face his mother, who was furious with him and worried about what friends would say about their drunkard of a son.

  He kept quiet and escaped to his bedroom as quickly as he could, flinging off his clothes and getting into bed with a sigh of relief.

  But it was a long time before he got to sleep. He kept replaying the scene with Ella in his mind. It was her fault he’d had a few too many drinks, just to give himself confidence.

  He’d get his own back on the bitch, though. He’d fancied her from the age of fifteen, when she got curvy and he got randy. She’d laughed at him then, so bright and sure of herself.

  She shouldn’t have married that fellow from London. Brett had known it wouldn’t last.

  But if she was starting to give out again, she should turn to people she knew, not strangers.

  Five

  Ella had everything ready for Cameron’s breakfast by seven o’clock, even before Amy left for school. At eight she drove her daughter to the main road and saw her on the bus. When she got home, she watched Porgy circle a couple of times then ease himself down in his favourite spot in the yard, a place which caught the sun all morning.

  No sign of Cameron.

  She fidgeted to and fro between kitchen and laundry. There was always something to do. She kept peering out of the window expecting to see him, then getting angry at herself for doing it.

  At last, just before eight thirty, she heard footsteps on the gravel and saw him strolling towards the house.

  He beamed at her. ‘I can’t remember the last time I slept so well. I hope I’ve not inconvenienced you by such a late start, Ella?’

  ‘No, of course not. I was just getting on with the housework.’

  He looked round. ‘You keep the place immaculate. Cleanliness shines everywhere I look.’

  That particular compliment pleased her. Keeping the place clean was something that didn’t cost much money but added to the general attractiveness of Willowbrook. She’d achieved a three-star rating from the AA last year in the guest house category. She was proud of that, hoped to get a higher rating next year . . . if she was still here next year . . . if Miles didn’t ruin her.

  ‘What would you like to eat? Cereal? Bacon and eggs? Toast?’ She handed him the menu.

  ‘All of that sounds wonderful. I’ll happily pay extra for a bigger breakfast. I haven’t been this hungry for ages. Must be the country air.’

  ‘Lots of people say that. And there’s no extra charge.’

  ‘Can I stay and watch you cook?’

  ‘Wouldn’t you rather sit in peace in the conservatory and sip some orange juice?’

  ‘Nope. I’d rather sit on a stool at the breakfast bar and talk to you.’ He suited the action to the words.

  ‘Oh. Well. All right.’ She poured him a juice and got on with her work. It didn’t normally bother her to have people watching, but this morning she felt all fingers and thumbs. ‘So you, um, slept well?’

  ‘Like the proverbial log. When I woke, I went for a walk round the lake, simply couldn’t resist it.’

  She smiled. Few of her guests could resist strolling near the water or sitting on one of the benches she’d put in. But she’d have to do something about the weeds on the path soon. She moved across to her whiteboard and wrote it down. ‘Just reminding myself to find time to weed the path round the lake.’

  He looked at her in shock. ‘You surely don’t do the gardening as well as everything else?’

  She continued preparing the rashers of local bacon. ‘I get someone in to mow the lawns, but I do the rest. My cousin Rose helps me sometimes if I’m extra busy.’

  ‘Where do you find the energy?’

  ‘I’m pretty efficient and I prioritize. I don’t do some things, like weeding, as often as I’d like.’ Her eyes strayed to the window and she smiled then turned back to prepare the eggs and bacon. ‘I like to keep things looking nice. Now, I’ve set out the fruit and cereals. By the time you’ve finished those, the rest will be ready.’ She led the way out into the conservatory. ‘I thought you’d like to sit by the window.’

  ‘Lovely. It’s nice being the only guest.’ His smile gave his statement another meaning.

  ‘In summer we’re usually full at weekends and often during the week, too, in the school holidays. Even Amy helps then. She loves that.’

  She was talking about herself again, she realized, should watch what she revealed. She picked up the empty tray. ‘I’ll just cook your bacon and eggs. Won’t be long.’

  He put out one hand to bar her way. ‘When you’ve done that, how about joining me for a coffee, Ella? Surely you’re ready to take a short break?’

  And once again she couldn’t resist spending time with him, so she made herself a cup and took it into the conservatory.

  There was the same feeling as the evening before, a companionable mood. No need to fill the silence with empty chatter. Spring sunshine poured through the windows, birds sang and a breeze wafted in the smell of earth and growing things.

  ‘It isn’t often I take a break during the day. It feels quite decadent.’

  ‘You’re a hard worker.’

  ‘Two compliments in one morning,’ she teased. ‘Be careful or my head will swell.’

&nbs
p; His eyes held hers for a moment, serious and very direct. ‘I don’t think so.’ Then he turned his attention back to his plate, clearing every morsel. ‘That was wonderful. I’m ready now to conquer the world.’

  When she began to clear away, he immediately jumped up to help.

  ‘I told you last night – guests shouldn’t be doing that.’

  ‘No trouble. Look, are you busy this morning, Ella?’

  ‘Um – well—’

  ‘Would you have time to show me round your property, tell me about its history? I walked round the outside of the barn this morning and was fascinated. You can see signs of old openings, half of an arch that must have been a window. Was it always a barn?’

  ‘No. That barn’s been many things in its lifetime.’

  ‘But it’s been repaired recently, and done well, too.’

  She nodded. ‘That’s why I’m so short of money. The insurance wouldn’t cover the right sort of stonework, let alone the woodwork in the roof, because the house isn’t listed.’

  Now that he’d seen more of the place, he was surprised that it wasn’t listed, but he didn’t comment. There must be some reason, surely? Or perhaps she just hadn’t wanted the authorities to interfere. ‘Would you show me round?’

  She looked across into his smiling eyes and was lost. ‘Oh – all right.’

  Could a man smile like that and mean you harm? Surely not?

  Rose got up as soon as it was light and began clearing up the mess. To her surprise, Oliver joined her soon afterwards by the simple expedient of walking in through the gap in the wall.

  ‘What woke you so early? I didn’t think you exposed your eyeballs to light before eight o’clock.’ She continued to work, piling up the broken wood and the bigger pieces of glass outside, her hands protected by some heavy duty gardening gloves.

  He touched the back of one. ‘Got any more of those? I don’t want to cut my hands.’

  ‘There’s no need. I can manage.’

  ‘Either you provide me with some or I’ll go back and get Dad’s.’

  ‘Why? Surely it’s best that we stay away from one another?’

  He ignored her question, though his scowl deepened. ‘Do you have some other protective gloves or not?’

  For answer, she went to the big drawer at the bottom of the storage wardrobe and pulled out an unused pair. She used them when she was making half-relief pieces from scraps of metal. She’d been playing with this in her spare time, because she believed in challenging and extending her skills. And it didn’t cost much. She could pick up all sorts of bits and pieces of metal that people threw away.

  ‘You always were a pack rat,’ he said, staring down into the box where she stored her smaller pieces.

  She didn’t bother to answer, just shut the drawer and went back to her work.

  They continued to clear up the mess and when that was done, she fetched her outdoor broom.

  ‘Find me something to put the smaller rubble in.’ He took the brush out of her hands and started sweeping. ‘Dad says you can have the flat over the surgery for the next few weeks while this place is being repaired.’

  ‘Surely you’ll want the flat.’

  ‘I may do later. For the present I can stay with Mum and Dad.’

  That stopped her in her tracks. The last thing she wanted, the very last, was to live close to where he’d be working every day. ‘I can manage here. I’m used to roughing it.’

  ‘Very noble. But Dad wants you out of here while we check that the structure of the building hasn’t been weakened. We don’t want to put you in danger. He nearly came to get you out last night.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘What does that mean?’

  ‘I’ll think about the flat. I may find somewhere else to live.’

  ‘Isn’t that taking your antagonism towards me a bit far? Cutting off your nose to spite your face?’

  He was right really, but she hated to admit it. ‘What’s the flat like now? I know your locums sometimes live there.’

  ‘It’s in good order. My parents renovated it a while ago.’ He looked round with a grimace. ‘The rooms are much bigger than those in this place. Dad said I was to show you round it.’

  ‘Why you?’

  ‘Because he’s busy. Do you have to challenge everything I say?’

  ‘It’s safer.’

  He finished sweeping the floor in silence, pulled off the gloves and threw them down, muttering something under his breath. Then he gave her a strange look. ‘I’ll meet you at the flat in half an hour.’ He didn’t give her time to reply, but strode off down the street.

  She watched him go. He’d stormed off like that after their final quarrel. And the next thing she knew, he’d left Chawton without a word.

  That was how their great love had ended. With a bang. Then she’d been left to whimper on her own. She’d wept a good few times. They’d had irreconcilable differences, life goals that diverged. He’d wanted to travel the world and specialize in emergency medicine. She’d wanted to stay – needed to stay, because she could only work on her project here.

  A piece of loose stone fell off the edge of the battered outer wall, as if to emphasize that he was right. She did need to move out. The cottage was probably safe. It’d lasted over two centuries already, but if old Doc Paige wanted her out, she’d go.

  Not because Oliver said so.

  She could go to Ella, didn’t need to ask to know she’d be welcome – only that was a long way out of town when you were working late at night and came home exhausted. It’d be more sensible to take the flat, as long as the rent wasn’t any higher. Surely she’d be able to avoid seeing much of Oliver.

  He brought back too many memories of a time she’d been young and optimistic about love and life.

  She and her cousin had both been disappointed by their early choices in men. They were wiser now, knew better than to trust anyone.

  Ella took the key off the hook and led the way out to the barn. Once she’d not have bothered to lock it, but since the break-in she’d become more careful. The incident had made her feel unsafe in her own home and she resented that bitterly.

  It was a large key, black, made of iron, the circle at the end smooth to the touch. How many people had used that key over the centuries? she wondered as she fitted it into the lock.

  She flung open one of the big doors and Cameron followed suit with the other, then stood there looking round.

  ‘It’s a cruck barn!’ he said in amazement. ‘I wondered, but – wow, I can’t believe it’s so well preserved inside! What happened to the outside?’

  ‘My ancestors made so many changes over the years, they covered a lot of the old building.’

  He walked slowly round, his face alight with interest and excitement, reaching up to touch the old wood where he could and pacing the place out.

  She stiffened. If you measured it inside and out, you’d find it didn’t quite fit. No, he’d not bother to do that accurately, surely?

  He turned to her from the other end. ‘I walked along the outside when I was waiting for you. Unless I’m much mistaken, there’s a difference of a couple of yards at this end. Did you realize that?’

  She couldn’t think what to say. Miles hadn’t once thought to do this, not in all the years he’d lived here, and now this stranger had found one of the old place’s secrets within a day of coming here.

  He stared at her. ‘You already knew, of course you did.’

  Reluctantly she nodded.

  ‘Is there a hiding place?’

  She didn’t know what to say.

  A little of the excitement died from his face. ‘Sorry. I’m probably intruding on something private. Of course you won’t want to share your house’s secrets with a stranger.’

  ‘No one else has ever guessed.’

  ‘Old houses are a bit of a hobby of mine. I love history.’

  On a sudden impulse she said, ‘I’ll show you, then. A special treat.’ She went to the wooden wall which s
eparated two of the storage spaces and pressed one of the upright planks in a certain way, as her father had shown her when she was sixteen, a rite of passage into adulthood. It was a bit stiff. She’d need to oil it again.

  The door opened slowly. ‘Come inside.’ She took the candle and matches her father had always insisted on keeping ready and lit it.

  Cameron followed her inside, touching the rough wood of the door, then running his fingertips along the walls.

  She pointed to the little bench. ‘They even provided seating.’ She didn’t close the door because some people got claustrophobic.

  When she sat down, he joined her, not speaking just studying their surroundings with a half-smile on his face.

  ‘Did you play hide and seek here when you were a child?’

  ‘We usually get shown the secrets of Willowbrook when we’re about sixteen. Amy doesn’t know about this place yet, because she’s a bit young to keep a secret. I never even told my ex about it. Well, he wasn’t interested in ancient monuments.’ Miles had several times called this place an old ruin.

  ‘Then I’m honoured that you trusted me. I’ll keep your secret, I promise.’

  She was surprised to realize she’d never doubted that. What was there about this man? She looked sideways and found him watching her.

  He leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss on her cheek. ‘Thank you for sharing this with me.’

  After they’d closed the hidey-hole up, his mobile phone rang.

  ‘Excuse me. I’m expecting an important call.’

  He moved away, but she couldn’t help overhearing.

  ‘No, it’s been switched on for the past hour. No, it definitely didn’t ring before.’ He sighed in exasperation. ‘Look, I don’t intend to be available twenty-four seven, Ray. I do have a life of my own, you know.’

  She walked back to the kitchen, leaving him to his phone call. She had more than enough to do today, shouldn’t have taken even an hour off. And she felt more tired than usual, having to force herself to keep going. Which wasn’t like her.