The Forever House: A feel-good summer page-turner

by Veronica Henry

  Sally looked at it and knew she couldn’t live there. The boys were under enough pressure. She didn’t want them to have to worry about her. Anyway, there was no room for her. There was one room for her mum, and one for Ray and Colin, until the time one of them got married and moved out.

  She decided to go to London and make her fortune. She felt guilty leaving her mother, but she had the boys. She didn’t need Sally so much.

  Ray and Colin drove her to the station.

  ‘Any trouble, Sal, just let us know. We’ll come and sort it out.’

  They would. She knew that. Her brothers had got her back. It was a good feeling, but not good enough for her to stay in Knapford, wrapping up slices of streaky bacon. London had called to her. She knew what would happen if she didn’t go away. Not escape: that wasn’t the right word; it was too dramatic. But she wanted more from life. She wanted to find out who and what she was.

  And she was so glad she’d done it. Here, at Hunter’s Moon, she was learning so much. About clothes and music and books and about how other people lived. Maybe Alexander was right. Maybe she was brave after all.

  27

  On Monday afternoon, Leo knew with a heavy heart that he had to go back to London. There were meetings he couldn’t miss. He stood on the doorstep, looking out at the fields, a lively breeze skittering round him as if to jolly him along. He breathed in the air, filled with the scent of blossom and the possibility of a spring shower.

  ‘Now I know,’ he told his mum and dad as he said goodbye, ‘I can make more time. And you must tell me if you need anything. I can be here in just over an hour.’

  ‘We’re going to keep life as normal as we can for as long as we can,’ Sally told him.

  ‘I know. But . . . you know where I am.’

  ‘We’re going to go up to Scotland and tell Jess next weekend.’

  ‘Will you be all right? It’s a long drive.’

  ‘We’ll break it up. Stop on the way. And we’ll stay a few days.’

  ‘If you want me to drive, I can take some time off.’ He was going to have to learn to trust his team more and delegate. They were keen and bright and ready for the responsibility, he thought. He had chosen well.

  ‘That’s very kind,’ said Alexander, grateful that he had such a thoughtful son. ‘But we’ll be fine.’ He was dreading it. He hated the burden of having to tell people. The responsibility that what he was going to say was going to shatter their world. Not that he had an over-inflated opinion of himself, but no matter how you dressed it up, people were going to be devastated.

  ‘Anything you want, you know that,’ said Leo, before he got in the car. ‘I’ll come down and mow the lawns. Cut the hedges. Anything.’

  ‘Come down for the sealed bids,’ said Sally. ‘We should decide together, as a family, who gets Hunter’s Moon.’

  The three of them stood in silence for a moment as they contemplated the finality of these words.

  Then Leo got in his car, shut the door and drove off down the drive. He looked back in the rear-view mirror and saw his parents standing on the doorstep, holding hands. He wiped away the tears that sprang into his eyes and turned up the stereo very loud.

  He had a couple of things he wanted to do before he made his way home.

  He drove into Peasebrook and found a parking space on the high street. He remembered thinking how deathly dull the town was when he was a teenager and even in his twenties. There’d been nothing to divert him. Now, however, there was something wherever he looked. Peasebrook had got quite a name for itself as a gastro-destination – blackboards everywhere proclaimed ‘artisan’ or ‘organic’ or ‘locally sourced’. Lots of people were moving here out of London because of the train service, and there were a substantial number of weekenders. Sleepy little Peasebrook was hip and happening in a countrified and wholesome way.

  It could have been made for him, thought Leo with a wry grin, as he passed a bakery, the windows filled with loaves of sourdough and friands and tartiflettes. Maybe you always fell out of love with your home town and fell back in again when you realised its true worth?

  Or needed it?

  He slipped into a shop that was one of his favourite places in the world. The Peasebrook Cheesemonger had been going as long as he could remember, though he had only really taken any notice of it in the past ten years, since food had become his living; his life. He was always in charge of coming here and getting the supplies for Hunter’s Moon at Christmas. Leo had done the shop’s website for them a few years ago, and even though he’d been properly paid he was always loaded up with free cheese whenever he visited. Not that free cheese was his motive for coming in.

  He breathed in the sharp, sweet, milky air as he walked in. Cheery-faced Jem was behind the counter, which was crammed with wheels of cheese in every shade from chalky white to a rich deep golden orange. Leo and Jem could talk for hours, and Jem always had something new for him to try.

  ‘Hey, buddy.’

  They high-fived each other over the counter, then chatted as Leo gave his order: a slice of Vignotte, a chunk of Berkswell and a wedge of sharp, ageing Cheddar.

  ‘So what’s new?’

  ‘Just down for the weekend.’ Leo didn’t give anything away. News of Hunter’s Moon’s sale obviously hadn’t reached Jem. ‘What’s going down in Cheese World?’

  ‘I’m taking over from my old man soon. He’s finally retiring.’ Jem gave a triumphant double thumbs-up.

  ‘Cool. Well, if I can help . . .’

  ‘You definitely can,’ said Jem. ‘I’ve got big plans.’

  ‘Great. Let me help you make them bigger.’

  ‘It’s world domination, mate. Nothing else will do. Hey – you’ll have to come and have dinner at my girlfriend’s place. She’s got a pop-up restaurant just round the corner.’

  ‘A Deux? I’ve heard good things.’

  ‘You’ll be lucky if you can get in, but I can probably swing it for you.’ Jem grinned proudly.

  Leo took his selection of cheeses, all wrapped up and put in a brown paper bag with string handles.

  ‘Awesome. I can’t stop now as I’m on my way home, but let’s catch up soon.’

  ‘Here. One for the road.’

  Jem ferreted in his refrigerator and handed him a small wooden box.

  ‘It’s an amazing goat’s cheese from a local dairy. Tell me what you think.’

  ‘Cheese from an amazing goat?’ Leo grinned.

  ‘Damn right.’

  Who needed Borough Market? He was right on the ground here. He lifted the box in appreciation. ‘Cheers.’

  He left the shop. He felt good about the exchange. He loved the idea of Jem taking over from his dad and taking the shop to the next level. He started thinking about how he could help him with his marketing strategy. Peasebrook Cheese wouldn’t have a big marketing budget but it was the sort of project Leo could get passionate about. Local, family business. He thought: maybe what’s happened to Dad will mean a change of direction for me? Maybe it’s time to come home?

  Then he remembered – there wasn’t going to be a home much longer.

  Cathy tinged the bell that was hanging up on the wall of the office. They rang it every time they sold a house. Belinda heard it and came out of her office with a smile.

  ‘The High House,’ said Cathy triumphantly. ‘Asking price. They want to exchange as soon as possible so their children can start at Peasebrook Primary in the summer term and get settled in.’

  ‘Maybe we should have asked for more,’ said Belinda.

  ‘Nope,’ said Cathy. ‘You’ve got the price bang on and you know it.’

  ‘You’re right,’ said Belinda. Being greedy could backfire.

  ‘You know what this means,’ said Cathy. ‘Your Forever House fund has reached its target. We can start looking for a house for you.’

  Cathy had been longing for this moment for years. She was as obsessed with finding Belinda a house as she was with finding her a man.

  �
��You can start looking,’ conceded Belinda, laughing. ‘But I’ve got strict criteria.’

  ‘I know,’ said Cathy. ‘Built before 1860, with parking, a small garden, a pantry, an airing cupboard . . . No flying freeholds or covenants.’

  ‘What’s the betting I end up in a modern penthouse?’

  ‘I’m going to make you an appointment with the mortgage advisor.’ Cathy opened up her web browser. ‘You need to be good to go when you find the right one.’

  ‘It’s not going to happen overnight. It’s got to be perfect.’

  ‘Yes. So when you find it, you need to pounce.’

  Belinda smiled. She knew Cathy was right. But she was a little bit scared. Now the time had come, she wasn’t sure she was ready for the next step. Her own house: it was such a big commitment, a change of lifestyle. She would have to step out of her comfort zone. For heaven’s sake, she told herself, what’s the worst that can happen?

  She looked out of the window. There was an enormous bouquet of wild roses tangled up with twigs and greenery walking up towards their office from the high street.

  ‘Good grief,’ she said. ‘It’s like that scene out of Macbeth.’

  It was Leo behind the foliage, and he was definitely heading to the office.

  ‘There you are. Proof that the law of attraction exists,’ breathed Cathy. ‘You have been doing it, like I told you?’

  ‘Of course I haven’t,’ said Belinda, who had no truck with anything airy-fairy.

  A sudden thought occurred to her – what if he’d persuaded his parents to take Hunter’s Moon off the market and he was coming to break the news to her? All that hard work, for nothing.

  Leo opened the door of the office and approached her with a wry smile, holding out the flowers.

  ‘These are for you, to say thank you for being so fantastic over the weekend.’

  ‘Goodness – there was absolutely no need.’ But Belinda held out her arms for them nevertheless, breathing in their scent.

  ‘I’m heading back up to London this afternoon, but I just wanted to say how much we appreciate your help. And I want to say sorry again for bursting in and causing a scene.’

  ‘I think you were quite calm, all things considered,’ said Belinda. ‘How are your parents?’

  A shadow flickered over Leo’s face.

  ‘Oh, I don’t know. I hate leaving them. They’ve got to go and tell my sister. And I think the stress of selling the house is a strain. Not knowing how much they’ll get.’

  ‘Listen, I’m going to get them the very best price I can. Don’t you worry.’

  ‘I know. Thanks.’ He looked resigned. ‘I feel as if I’ve aged ten years over the weekend.’

  ‘I’m sure . . .’

  ‘Sorry. You don’t want to hear all this—’

  ‘It’s fine. I’m happy to listen. It’s hard for you, not having anyone to share it all with.’

  She could see Cathy behind Leo, doing thumbs up signs, and nodding her head as if to say ‘Go on’. She looked at her watch. It was nearly time to close. Cathy would shut up shop for her. She could ask him for a drink. They could go and have a glass of wine at the Peasebrook Arms before he headed back, chat things over. She could hear Bruce in her head, egging her on: ‘Girl power, baby’.

  ‘Listen, I’m finished for the day. Do you want to—’

  She was about to suggest a drink when his phone rang. He looked apologetic. ‘Sorry, I really need to get this.’

  ‘No problem.’

  His face lit up as he spoke to whoever was on the other end. ‘I’m so glad you called me back. Can I drop in on my way home? I really need to see you . . . Yes. Put something nice in the fridge. I’ll bring cheese . . . Fantastic. It will be about six. Lots of love.’

  He stuffed his phone back in his pocket. ‘Sorry. I needed to catch her. She’s very hard to pin down. You know what these career women are like.’

  Belinda put her hands up with a wry smile as if to say ‘guilty’.

  ‘And I need to go. Listen, I’m sure I’ll see you again in the next few weeks.’

  ‘Sure. The deadline for the sealed bid is the Friday after next.’

  ‘I’ll be down for that, definitely. Crunch time, eh?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Bye, then.’

  ‘Bye. And thank you for the flowers . . .’

  The door shut behind him. Belinda watched him head back down the road. She felt a little stab of disappointment. She was an idiot. Of course he was absolutely bound to have a glossy, leggy girlfriend called India or Tabitha who would curl herself around him tonight and give him comfort.

  Cathy opened her mouth.

  ‘Don’t say anything,’ said Belinda. ‘He’s got a girlfriend.’

  Yet as she ploughed through the rest of the names on her list, she kept imagining Leo’s future children sliding down the bannisters and tearing around on the lawn at Hunter’s Moon, and it almost moved her to tears. She told herself to get a grip. It was lucky she wasn’t a surgeon. If she got this involved with a house sale, what would she be like if it really was a matter of life and death?

  Finding a parking space in Chiswick was always a game. Leo ended up about a quarter of a mile from where he was heading. His heart lifted slightly as he approached the house. He was happy to see the lights were on, so she was already home. He thought he might feel better once he’d told her. He’d had to hold everything in over the weekend. It had been exhausting. He’d got to the point where he didn’t know what to think or feel, but he needed someone who understood him. Who he was close to. She was the one person in the world who always made him feel better when he had a problem. She always knew what to say, what to do. She was his rock, if he was honest. He didn’t know what he would do without her.

  He knocked on the door. He could hear her footsteps. Hear her sliding back the bolt.

  And then he saw her face. Her dear face, which lit up in delight when she saw him. Her hair was all over the place, as it always was, one of her many pairs of glasses on top of her head. She was holding a glass of wine in one hand. He knew there’d be no supper on the go yet, but that was why he’d bought the cheese.

  ‘Darling. It’s so lovely to see you. Come in.’

  ‘Oh Annie.’ He put his arms around his aunt. ‘Oh Annie – I don’t know what to do.’

  28

  1967

  As the cool of early spring edged into May and the sun became a more frequent visitor, Sally settled into life at Hunter’s Moon. Although it was hard work and, sometimes, quite mundane, she found it surprisingly enjoyable running a big house. Having an unlimited budget made it easier, so if she wanted to order beef fillet or a new set of table linen, she could. And living with the Willoughbys was never dull. She loved getting involved in whatever Phoebe was creating, and was always a willing model. Alexander was embroiled in hawking her clothes around London and setting up summer bookings for the Lucky Charms, who seemed to be on the up. Annie was revising hard for her GCEs and would ask Sally to test her in the kitchen.

  ‘Absolutely no one else is doing any revision at all. They say the exams are ages off. They all just loll around the common room smoking and listening to records. They take the mickey out of me.’

  ‘Well, they’re very silly,’ said Sally. How could anyone be horrible to Annie? She was a darling.

  ‘I’m dreading the sixth form.’ Annie looked glum.

  Sally was concerned, but there was no point in discussing it with anyone. Margot was on a roll with her book, and seemed to be taking it very seriously, locking herself away in the coach house for hours on end. And Dai was a non-starter, out of touch with the real world and people’s needs.

  Dai always seemed to be at a loose end. He didn’t say much. He just loomed in a gloomy way. He didn’t seem to bother about shaving. Or possibly, Sally suspected, even washing. She wondered if he was depressed. She’d seen it in her father – the glum silences; the withdrawing; the apathy. Of course her dad had been under pressure
. Dai didn’t have any pressure at all, which was why it was a bit of a mystery that he seemed so down. He and Margot were very scratchy with each other. And if there was too much wine at dinner, things escalated quite rapidly. When he drank, Dai became more and more Welsh and more and more obnoxious, goading his wife.

  ‘How’s the poor man’s Barbara Cartland, then?’

  ‘At least I write,’ she shot back. ‘The poor man’s Dylan Thomas isn’t exactly prolific.’

  Sally knew Dai had started it but she could see that Margot’s words stung him and this was the root of his problem. She called upon her mother’s boy-rearing tactics: fresh air and being given something to do about which they had no choice.

  She tackled him one morning after breakfast.

  ‘It’s crazy,’ she said. ‘Me spending all this money on groceries when there’s a beautiful garden out there. I wondered if you’d help me bring it back into action? It would be so lovely to have our own fresh vegetables.’

  She gave him her most winning Sally smile. She knew perfectly well that it worked on men. It had always worked on her father and brothers. Dai sipped his tea then put his cup down.

  ‘Come on, then,’ he said. ‘Show me what you want.’

  They went out into the grounds and walked down to the walled garden, which was tucked away just below the coach house. It was a tangle of weeds and crumbling soft red bricks, dilapidated cold frames and a greenhouse full of broken glass.

  ‘Bloody hell,’ said Dai. ‘It hasn’t been touched for years. We had a gardener at one point but he had light fingers, not green ones.’

  ‘It would be hard work to get it back to how it was, but it must have provided the house with all its produce once. Wouldn’t it be lovely, to have our own fruit and vegetables? Nothing tastes better than a potato fresh from the ground.’