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

by Veronica Henry

  Sally stepped between them. She was quite calm.

  ‘Dai. It’s fine. Please may I use the telephone to call my brothers? They can come and collect me from Paddington. It will only take me half an hour to pack.’

  She ran out of the kitchen and up the stairs to her room.

  Margot looked unsure of herself all of a sudden. She realised she had gone too far. But she was out of her depth. She was too afraid to back down.

  In her room, Sally gathered her things together as quickly as she could. She couldn’t keep this family together any more. She didn’t have the strength. Everything was unravelling. Phoebe was in London. Alexander wasn’t here – he was up in Nottingham or Northampton or somewhere with the Lucky Charms. Maybe it was best if she slipped away while he was gone, to avoid any awkward goodbyes.

  Don’t cry, Sally, she told herself. Margot Willoughby is not worth your tears.

  An hour later a taxi drove up the drive and Sally put her case in the boot, then went round to the passenger seat.

  Dai watched from the front steps.

  ‘Oh, Margot,’ he said. ‘What have you done? What have you done?’

  34

  The day before the contracts were due to be exchanged on Hunter’s Moon, Belinda was scouring the local paper and the Internet for houses.

  Everything was in place for the sale to go through. It hadn’t fallen through as she’d feared and in her head she silently cheered Natasha on, delighted she’d found the strength to go it alone.

  The High House had completed the day before, which meant the money had been released and her fund had reached its target. She had been to view several houses in Peasebrook but none of them was quite right. She had waited so long she was only going to accept perfection.

  Cathy was frowning at her computer screen.

  ‘What is it?’ asked Belinda, on alert.

  Cathy grimaced, pressed a button, then reached over for the paper on which the email she had been reading had been printed. She handed it to Belinda.

  It was from Natasha’s solicitor.

  ‘We regret to inform you that our clients no longer wish to proceed with the purchase of Hunter’s Moon.’

  That was it. No further explanation. Belinda knew that she didn’t need one. She knew perfectly well why it wasn’t going through. Her heart sank. She’d let the Willoughbys down.

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ said Cathy. ‘Do you want me to start phoning the other interested parties?’

  Belinda nodded. ‘Let’s see if we can salvage it.’ She grabbed the spreadsheet with all the other offers on it. ‘People are going to drop their price if they know we’re desperate, so don’t make it sound as if we are.’

  ‘Are you going to tell the Willoughbys?’

  ‘Not yet.’ Belinda knew this was why she was good at her job. This was when she earned her commission. She was a firefighter.

  By eight o’clock that evening, she was starting to feel defeated. She’d phoned every single person who had come to the open house. Most of them were pursuing other properties. Two were going to get back to her, but she didn’t hold out much hope.

  There was a tiny little bit of her that was pleased that Hunter’s Moon might have a stay of execution. That the Willoughbys might have one last summer there. This deal might have collapsed, but she would be able to re-market it and get a buyer without much trouble. Just not in time to save the purchase of the Digby Hall property.

  An email pinged into her inbox. It was from Natasha.

  Dear Belinda,

  I’m so sorry to pull out of buying Hunter’s Moon. I was so inspired by you, and I really thought I was going to realise my dream. But I thought carefully about it and I decided it was too soon for such a big commitment. I need to discover more about myself and who I am and what I could be. Hopefully one day someone as brave as you. I know you will find someone else to buy Hunter’s Moon. It is a very special house.

  With much love

  Natasha

  It was such a sweet and heartfelt email, and Belinda could see Natasha had made the right decision. She composed a short reply wishing her the best of luck.

  Then she leafed through the Hunter’s Moon file, looking at Bruce’s photographs. The fountain, the walled garden, the swimming pool, the little coach house . . .

  She stopped and looked more closely at the photograph. She drew out the floor plan and looked at the measurements. Then she looked at the ordnance survey map where the boundaries of Hunter’s Moon were outlined, tracing her finger along the lane.

  She remembered Sally showing her inside the dusty cottage where Margot had written all her books. In the brochure she had described it as ‘brimming with potential for a home office, party barn or ancillary accommodation.’ It was small, but with the adjoining garages added in there was quite a lot of floor space. What if . . .?

  Her heart was thumping. She could feel the same tingle of excitement she had felt when she first saw The High House. The possibilities. The potential. Her imagination started to work. A large kitchen dining room in the garage with a mezzanine floor. Bi-fold doors leading out into the courtyard. It wouldn’t be huge, but it would be the perfect size for a single career girl.

  She gathered up the papers and left the office. She ran down to the high street, over the bridge and along to the old glove factory. She pressed Bruce’s buzzer, praying he was in.

  ‘Babe! Come on up.’ He sounded pleased to hear from her.

  She went up to his apartment. He opened the door. She walked inside and stopped short. On the sofa was a woman, very tanned, with long dark hair. She was elegant and stylish in a very laid-back, arty way.

  ‘I’m so sorry. I didn’t know you had company.’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ grinned Bruce. ‘You know me. The more the merrier.’

  The woman rolled her eyes and stood up, holding out her hand with a smile. ‘Hi. I’m Martine.’

  Belinda took her hand and looked between the two of them, but she didn’t need to ask much. They had a glow that was unmistakeable. Bruce deserved someone lovely, and Martine looked more than capable of handling his capricious ways.

  ‘I won’t keep you long,’ she said, pleased for her friend. ‘I just want to pick your brains. I want you to tell me if I’m going mad.’

  Belinda wasn’t used to London traffic or London parking, but somehow she managed to navigate her way to Borough Market the next morning and nab a parking space in an NCP. She’d turned her idea over and over in her mind on the way up the motorway. It wasn’t a flawless plan, but it ticked so many boxes she had to run it past him.

  She ran through the market. She didn’t have time to stop and look at all the enticing stalls, but she could smell roasting coffee and baking bread and bubbling paella all mixed up into one enticing scent. She searched the café fronts until she found the one she wanted, ran towards the door and pushed it open.

  There he was, sitting at a table. He had a cup of coffee in front of him and was scrolling through his phone. He looked up and saw her, and he smiled and stood up.

  ‘Thank you for agreeing to meet me.’ Belinda flopped into the chair opposite, breathless from running.

  ‘It’s no problem. Can I get you a drink?’

  She shook her head. ‘Listen to what I’ve got to say first. I need to talk to you before I talk to your parents.’

  ‘What’s happened?’

  ‘I’m afraid the sale has fallen through. The buyers have pulled out.’

  ‘Oh shit.’

  ‘This is exactly what I was worried would happen when I spoke to you. I’m really sorry.’

  ‘Listen – it wasn’t your fault. It could just as easily have gone through. Selling houses is a precarious business. It’s a shame, but it’s not as if there aren’t other people keen to buy.’

  ‘I know. I just don’t know if they can come through in time for your parents to get Digby Hall.’

  Leo grinned ruefully. ‘I don’t know that’s such a bad thing. My parents took me
to see it. I just can’t imagine them there. And maybe this will give us time as a family to work out the best plan.’ He leant his head in one hand. ‘They were so determined to do this on their own, I think they rushed into things.’

  ‘I have got an idea.’ Belinda pulled out the file and put it on the table. ‘I wanted to run it past you first.’

  She opened the file and pulled out the Hunter’s Moon brochure, leafing to the page that showed the plot and the boundaries on a large-scale map. She spread it on the table in front of him.

  ‘We know the main reason your parents are selling is to release some capital. I don’t get the feeling they want to leave Hunter’s Moon at all. They did a very good job of trying to convince themselves the new place was what they wanted, but I don’t think either of them were that keen.’

  ‘No,’ said Leo. ‘It was very much a means to an end.’

  ‘OK. Listen,’ said Belinda. ‘Yes, the differential in price between Hunter’s Moon and the new place would have left your parents with quite a bit of money to play with. But bear in mind they would also have high annual maintenance fees at Digby Hall. All those facilities aren’t thrown in for nothing. And a big whack of stamp duty.’

  ‘I’m not sure where this is going?’

  Belinda paused for a moment. This was going to be make or break. Leo would either think she was mad or a genius.

  ‘Do you think they’d be interested in me buying the coach house off them?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I’m looking to buy my own place. If I converted the coach house it would be perfect for me. It’s just the right size. And it’s quite separate from the house.’ She drew a blue line on the plans. ‘You could put in a drive around the back, coming off the lane a little further up. So it would be completely cut off and you wouldn’t notice I was there . . .’

  She trailed off. Leo was staring at her.

  ‘Carry on.’

  ‘Obviously you’d have to get an independent valuation and not take my word for it. But selling the coach house would release about the same amount of cash. They could stay at Hunter’s Moon and have money for any help they need, or any alterations they want to make.’

  Leo sipped his coffee, tracing his finger over the plans in front of them.

  ‘Sorry,’ said Belinda. ‘I know this is a bit out of the blue. But I wanted to talk it over with you first.’

  ‘I know Dad doesn’t want to leave Hunter’s Moon. And I know he feels guilty about making Mum leave. She pretends it’s fine, but I know she’s gutted.’

  He picked up the pen Belinda had been using and fiddled with it.

  ‘I’ve been trying to reorganise my business so I can come down every weekend. I can come down Friday to Monday. Take the pressure off Mum. Sort out stuff that needs doing in the garden.’ He swallowed. ‘Maybe even move down full-time when things . . .’

  He stopped. He was a little choked up, and Belinda saw the glitter of a tear.

  She reached out her hand across the table and touched his. She held it there for a moment while he composed himself. After a few moments he turned his hand over and took hers. He squeezed it, tightly. And he didn’t let go.

  ‘I think it’s an amazing idea,’ he said.

  She gave a shaky laugh. ‘You know us wily estate agents. Always coming up with a plan to save the deal.’

  He was staring at her. She blushed and looked away, unsure of herself.

  ‘Shall we go and ask your parents what they think?’

  Leo nodded.

  ‘Can I have a lift with you? I can get the train back tomorrow morning.’ He was still holding her hand.

  ‘Of course.’

  She took her hand away, gathered up all the paperwork and put it back in her bag. ‘Ready?’

  They fell into step together as they left the café. And as they walked down the road towards the car park, it seemed the most natural thing in the world for Belinda to put her arm in his. It was unspoken, but something had passed between them in the coffee shop.

  The question stuck in her throat, but she had to ask it.

  ‘Can I ask you something?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Are you seeing anyone at the moment?’

  He looked puzzled. ‘You mean like a psychiatrist?’

  She couldn’t help laughing. ‘No. I mean like a girl. A woman.’

  ‘No. Not for a while, to be honest.’

  ‘Only when you were in my office, when you brought me the flowers, you were going to see someone that night.’ She had to be careful with her tone. She didn’t want to sound too needy or hectoring.

  ‘Was I?’ He screwed up his face, trying to remember. ‘Annie. That was my aunt. I was going to see Annie.’ He gave her a nudge with his elbow. ‘Idiot.’ He was laughing. ‘Why do you ask?’ His tone was teasing.

  ‘No reason.’ She put on an innocent face. She felt her heart skip a beat and remembered the fortune cookie.

  A dark stranger is going to enter your life and bring you untold happiness . . .

  *

  Sally and Alexander were alarmed at first when Leo and Belinda turned up together. But it took less than half an hour to explain Belinda’s idea.

  ‘I know it’s not ideal, breaking up the property like this. But it can be quite separate. It’s not as if you’d have a shared drive. And you’ll still have some of the garages for your own use.’

  When they’d agreed that Leo would arrange for an independent valuation of the coach house, Leo and Sally went to the kitchen to fetch some wine to toast the new beginning.

  Alexander was sitting in his chair by the fire. He smiled at Belinda.

  ‘You know, you remind me so much of Sally,’ said Alexander. ‘She was the one who rescued Hunter’s Moon all those years ago. We nearly lost it then. In the autumn of 1967.’

  ‘Tell me,’ said Belinda, fascinated. She longed to hear the history of the house – she could see from the photos that were dotted around that it was a house of many stories.

  Alexander sighed. ‘It was awful at the time. My mother had a nervous breakdown. None of us had any idea what to do. The only one of any of us who ever had any common sense was Sally . . .’

  35

  1967

  Alexander raged when he came back the next day and found out what Margot had done. He was even more angry than Dai had been.

  ‘What were you thinking? She’s the only person with a brain in this house. The only person who ever has a clue about anything.’

  Margot just sat at the table looking blank.

  ‘Darling, housekeepers are two a penny—’

  Alexander thumped the table. Margot jumped.

  ‘She was more than a housekeeper! She was . . .’

  He cast about for the words.

  ‘She was an angel.’

  Margot just laughed. ‘Oh God, don’t tell me you’re besotted too?’

  Alexander put his face right up close to his mother’s.

  ‘She’s worth a million of you.’

  ‘Oh, right, so what I do counts for nothing. I only keep the roof over your head. Pay for everything. Including your ministering angel . . .’

  Alexander picked up the glass in front of Margot. He stopped himself just in time from throwing its contents over her. Instead, he sniffed it.

  He set it back on the table.

  And he turned and left the room.

  Outside, Alexander jumped into the Mini. By some miracle there was half a tank of petrol.

  He felt sick with fear. Sally couldn’t have gone. What was his mother thinking? And his useless father, standing by and letting it happen.

  He realised he had set off without a map, but he thought he could remember the way to Knapford. Please let her have gone home, he thought. Please don’t let her have headed off into London, where he might never find her.

  In the kitchen, Margot was raging at Dai.

  ‘You have no idea of the pressure I’ve been under all these years. I don’t just pull t
hose books like magic out of a hat. It’s hard work. It’s bloody hard work. And all I get from any of you is sarcastic remarks about how useless I am. But you don’t mind the lifestyle and the parties and the house.’

  This last word was on the borderline of hysterical. She was pulling open a drawer, digging around to find what she was looking for, hidden amongst some old table mats. She threw a letter at him.

  ‘Well, there. The house is being taken off us. There’s no money left. I haven’t been paying the mortgage. The bank want it back. So you are all right. I am useless.’

  She stormed out of the room.

  Dai picked up the letter. It was from the bank manager. He could only pick out a few key words, his hands were shaking so much, but they were enough to show Margot was speaking the truth.

  The bank was taking Hunter’s Moon off them.

  *

  Alexander found his way to Knapford. He screeched up the high street, searching for the front of Huxtable’s, trying to remember exactly how far up it was. There – with its red-and-white striped awning. He abandoned the car and went running into the shop.

  Colin and Ray were behind the counter in their white coats and hats. They looked up as Alexander came in.

  ‘Sally.’ He looked at them. ‘Please tell me she’s here.’

  He could tell by the way the two of them looked at each other that she was.

  ‘I need to see her.’

  ‘Sorry, mate,’ said Colin, who was holding a nasty looking cleaver.

  Alexander knew he couldn’t get past either of them to the door that led to the flat. They were big, strong blokes. He wouldn’t have a hope.

  ‘Please. There’s been an awful mistake. My mother’s not very well and she may have said something to upset Sally. But we need her.’

  Ray shook his head. ‘She’s home now, mate. We need her too. She’s staying here.’

  ‘Can I at least talk to her?’

  Colin pointed his thumb out of the door. ‘Hop it.’

  Alexander crossed his arms. ‘I’m not going until I’ve seen her.’