by Jenny Lane
Promises of Spring
Jenny Lane
© Jenny Lane 2014
Jenny Lane has asserted her rights under the Copyright, Design and Patents Act, 1988, to be identified as the author of this work.
First published in Great Britain in 2012 by Ulverscroft.
This edition published 2014 by Endeavour Press Ltd.
kazziekat@dpgroup
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Extract from Family Secrets by Jenny Lane
Chapter One
Sophie Burnett slowed to a crawl, as a sudden flurry of snow made driving even more hazardous. She must have been mad to have attempted the journey to Penbridge that day, but she’d got no intention of letting Aunt Rose down.
A couple of days ago there had been a brief message left on the answer-phone from a neighbour, informing the Burnetts that the elderly lady had sprained her ankle badly. After a brief family confab, Sophie had volunteered to stay with Aunt Rose in Kent for a week or so.
‘Under any other circumstances, I’d have been more than happy to go myself,’ Sophie’s mother had said. ‘But June and Colin have been good friends for such a long time, so your father and I can’t possibly miss their ruby wedding party this weekend. Rose insisted she’s coping well when I spoke to her on the phone yesterday, but you know how fiercely independent she is. Reading between the lines, I think she’s putting on a brave face and could do with some help.’
Sophie’s brother, Tim, had already gone skiing with his girlfriend, so there really was no-one else.
Sophie peered ahead. Rose Cottage had got to be around here somewhere, but all she could make out, stretching into the distance, was a sea of white with no sign of habitation.
After a few minutes, the snow eased, and Sophie inched her way gingerly forward, in what she hoped was the right direction. Rose Cottage had always been a bit tricky to find. Even in the best of weather it had been easy to miss the turning and, previously, Sophie had been driven there by her father. To her relief, she suddenly saw a couple of ragstone cottages set back from the road and pulled in as near as she could.
A sharp rap on the window nearly made her jump out of her skin. A man peered at her with a pair of intense brown eyes, mouthing something. She wound down the window a crack, hoping he wasn’t about to attack her.
‘At last! Rose sent me to see if there was any sign of you. We thought you’d have been here long ago.’
‘In case it’s escaped your notice, it’s been snowing heavily,’ she rejoined, unable to make out much about the man, apart from the fact that he was quite large, probably in his thirties, and swathed in a thick jacket with a hood.
‘Well, you’re here now — you’ll have to park round the back.’ He directed her, waving his arms about in the process.
It was slow going and Sophie was greatly relieved when she’d finally reached the spot he’d indicated. By the time she’d locked the car and retrieved some of her luggage from the boot, the man had reappeared.
‘I’m Rose’s neighbour, from Rowan-bank,’ he told her tersely, taking the suitcase from her, and leaving her to follow as best she could with the bags. ‘She was expecting to spend the New Year with you and your family. By the time I’d returned from visiting friends, she was in a bit of a state. She’d gone out to find her cat, and slipped and sprained her ankle badly. It’s a good job it wasn’t any worse. Goodness knows how she’d managed to get back indoors. Anyway, I took her to A & E just to be on the safe side.’
‘Well, you’re obviously a good neighbour,’ Sophie told him, thinking it was typical of Daphne to have backed out of having her aunt to stay over the New Year. Sophie knew that Rose had been greatly looking forward to visiting her late husband’s niece and she hadn’t told the Burnetts she’d been on her own over the holiday after all.
‘It’s just as well I came back when I did. Your aunt’s been housebound ever since,’ the neighbour told Sophie, a note of reproach in his voice.
Sophie didn’t bother to correct him. After all, it was an easy enough mistake to make to assume that she was Rose’s niece. She was freezing cold and her toes and fingers were numb. No, explanations could wait until later.
***
Aunt Rose’s face lit up when Sophie came into the kitchen, reassuring her that she’d made the right decision in coming here. Sophie kissed the elderly lady’s cheek and commiserated over the sprained ankle, all the time aware of the man leaning against the Welsh dresser observing her. She registered that he was largish with broad shoulders. He had pushed the hood of his anorak back to reveal thick fair hair flopping forward over his brow and she could see that he had a firm, angular jawline and rugged good looks.
‘I didn’t think you’d manage to get here in all this bad weather. What a day!’ Aunt Rose said.
‘I did try to phone you, but I’m afraid I couldn’t get a signal,’ Sophie told her.
‘Well, never mind. I’m so pleased to see you. Would you like to freshen up? Keir’s made us some soup, although I’m afraid I’ve had mine already. I’ve put you in the back bedroom. Fortunately, Keir’s lent me his cleaning lady, so the room’s ready and the bed’s aired. She couldn’t come in today, of course.’
‘I’ll bring your case,’ Keir said, and Sophie followed him back into the tiny hall and up the narrow stairs.
‘How on earth is Aunt Rose managing to get up here?’
‘She isn’t. We’ve made up a bed for her on the bed-settee in the dining room for the time being, and fortunately she’s got the downstairs cloakroom, so she can manage perfectly well.’ He paused and pushed open a door. ‘Anyway, here you are. It’s a pleasant room.’
‘Thanks for everything,’ she said, meeting a pair of cool, brown eyes. ‘It’s good to know someone’s been keeping an eye on Aunt Rose.’
‘Yes, well, what are neighbours for?’ he said briefly. ‘She’s a lovely lady and it’s a great pity her family don’t appreciate her more.’
Sophie felt that the criticism was somehow directed at her and decided to put him straight.
‘Actually, Aunt Rose doesn’t have any close family living, apart from her husband’s niece, Daphne, and a couple of elderly cousins in Shropshire.’
Keir frowned. ‘But I thought — so you’re not related to Daphne?’
She shook her head. ‘Most definitely not! I’m Sophie — Sophie Burnett. Aunt Rose isn’t really my aunt at all. She was my father’s cousin’s sister-in-law. Uncle Hugh lived at Rowanbank.’
She was gratified to see that Keir looked slightly awkward.
‘Right — well, I’m sorry for the misunderstanding — must have got my wires crossed. I found your phone number in Rose’s address book, listed under D. Burnett and assumed ...’
‘That’s my father, David Burnett. His cousin, Hugh, lived at Rowanbank, until he died last year, as I’m sure you’re aware. Uncle Hugh’s first wife, Mary, was Aunt Rose’s twin sister.’
‘Yes, of course — it all makes sense now.’ He stretched out a hand. ‘I’m Keir Ellison, Miss Burnett. I moved into Rowanbank last summer.’
Her fingers tingled as they made contact with his. She had to admit he was a seriously attractive man. For a moment, their eyes met and then she lowered her gaze, feeling oddly disturbed.
‘I’ll go and heat up that soup,’ he told he
r. ‘Ready in ten minutes.’
Sophie barely had time to remove her wet anorak, towel and brush her damp hair and have a quick wash. Her head was in a whirl.
Sophie and her family hadn’t realised anyone had moved into Rowanbank. They’d assumed the neighbour who’d left the message had been someone from the adjacent cottage.
Sophie crossed to the small lattice window and peered out, but the view was practically obliterated by a blanket of snow. It was at least a couple of years since she’d last been here, but her parents had stayed with Aunt Rose when they’d attended Hugh’s funeral last year.
After her sister, Mary, had died, Aunt Rose had helped keep house for her brother-in-law, Hugh, but then, right out of the blue, many years later he’d remarried and his second wife, Erica, had made it abundantly clear that Rose was no longer welcome at Rowanbank. Soon after Hugh had died, Erica had gone abroad.
A few minutes later, Sophie was seated in Aunt Rose’s small kitchen with a steaming bowl of soup in front of her and a plate of sandwiches.
‘Aren’t you going to stay for a cup of tea, Keir?’ Rose asked, as he got to his feet. ‘Surely your class will be cancelled tonight?’
‘Yes, I expect so, but I’ll leave you two to catch up. You must have a lot to talk about so I’ll say goodbye for now.’
And he was gone. For a large man he moved quickly, Sophie thought, wondering fleetingly how old he was.
Aunt Rose set down her cup. ‘Keir has been very good to me. I couldn’t wish for a better neighbour.’
Sophie took a spoonful of soup. It was wonderfully warming.
‘Did he really make this soup?’
‘He’s a man of many talents and is quite capable of looking after himself with a little help from Mavis Briggs, his cleaning lady.’
‘Mrs Briggs! She was Uncle Hugh’s cleaning lady too, wasn’t she? I used to play with her daughter, Crystal, when I stayed at Rowanbank as a child. We’ve kept in touch ever since.’
‘Goodness knows what state that house would have been in without Mavis and her husband keeping an eye on it all those weeks it was standing empty.’
‘I’m surprised Erica didn’t stay there until it was sold.’
‘Oh, it was as if she couldn’t wait to shake the dust of Penbridge from her heels. She cleared off abroad almost as soon as it was decently possible. Anyway, Keir’s at Rowanbank now and I couldn’t be more pleased. Now, tell me all that’s been going on in your life since I last saw you.’
The time passed pleasantly as Sophie filled Rose in, carefully glossing over her reasons for leaving Buckinghamshire and, instead, telling Aunt Rose about the temporary post, teaching English in Hertfordshire, which had recently come to an end.
Aunt Rose, who was a very discreet lady, had been told by Sophie’s parents, when they’d visited, about the way Sophie had been treated by her ex-boyfriend.
‘We wish Sophie would talk about it, get it out of her system, but I’m afraid she just clams up if we attempt to raise the subject,’ Anne Burnett had said worriedly.
Rose knew from experience that time was a great healer and hoped that, eventually, Sophie would feel able to confide in her.
‘Well, what shall we have for supper?’ Aunt Rose asked. ‘Mavis Briggs has made me a rather nice beef casserole so, if you’d like that it’s only a question of heating it up and doing a few additional vegetables.’
‘That sounds wonderful,’ Sophie assured her. ‘Tell me where the vegetables are and I’ll prepare them.’
***
Over at Rowanbank, Keir sat in Hugh Mercer’s comfortable old armchair in the study and thought about Sophie Burnett. She was quite an ordinary-looking girl with an oval face and a quantity of light-brown hair casually tied back, but it was her eyes that had caught his attention. She had the most beautiful eyes, clear grey and long-lashed.
There was obviously a reason why she was free to come to Penbridge in January. He found himself wondering what it was and realised it was the first time he’d shown an interest in any woman since Nina.
Now he came to think of it, Hugh had mentioned a cousin living in Hertfordshire. Keir had a feeling he might have seen Sophie’s parents at Hugh’s funeral. They had been sitting with Rose Harding. Erica hadn’t introduced them to him, but it had been a difficult day for her and she’d had a lot on her mind.
Erica had told Keir about the two mysterious letters that had been left with the will that no-one could make any sense of. He knew one had been for Rose, but Erica hadn’t said anything about the recipient of the second one. He made a mental note to ask her.
He smiled and turned his attention to the sheaf of papers in his hand. He’d no doubt find out more about Sophie Burnett in due course, but for the moment, there were assignments to mark.
***
‘Are you still selling the dolls’ house furniture in the gift shop?’ Sophie asked Aunt Rose over supper.
Aunt Rose nodded. ‘Most weeks I do a stint behind the counter too — on a voluntary basis. It keeps me occupied and takes me out of the house. I’m not sure if I’d like to work in a charity shop, so this is just right for me. You’d be surprised how many grown-ups love dolls’ houses, quite apart from the children.’
‘I remember when I was a little girl and we came to stay at Rowanbank one summer. Aunt Mary brought me round to have tea with you and Uncle Tom. You showed me the furniture then and I was absolutely fascinated. Actually, I’ve still got one or two pieces on the shelf in my bedroom at home now.’
‘Have you really, dear? That must have been a few years ago now.’
‘It certainly was — I’m thirty-two now!’
‘And I’m well in my seventies so, to me, you’re just a mere child!’
Sophie laughed and found herself wondering exactly how old Keir was. Nearer forty than thirty, she would have thought.
After they’d finished supper and Sophie had cleared the dishes away, they went into the sitting room to watch TV, but the reception was very poor due to the weather conditions, so they played a game of Scrabble instead. Sophie realised that Aunt Rose was quite an accomplished player.
‘Tom loved his game of Scrabble and Hugh and Mary too. We had some good times the four of us. And then, when our partners died within such a very short time of each other, Hugh and I continued to spend some evenings together until he remarried.’ Aunt Rose suddenly looked sad. ‘Sometimes Keir pops round and we have a game or two. It’s hard to remember he’s only been here such a short while.’
‘So what does he do? You mentioned an evening class.’
‘He’s a teacher, like yourself, works part-time in the local senior school, besides taking the classes in the evening. He’s a very talented potter and devotes the rest of his time to his own projects. He sells his stuff in the gift shop too. That reminds me he’s promised to take some of my dolls’ house furniture next time he’s passing. I don’t expect the shop will be open today in this bad weather.’
***
Sophie lay awake for a while, surprised at the sudden turn of events that had brought her to Kent. She wasn’t clear how long she’d stay, but supposed it would be for at least a couple of weeks.
She had thought that the months she’d spent in Hertfordshire, staying with her parents, would have healed her aching heart, but she still missed Brett so very much. She’d met him on a course and they’d discovered they were living and teaching in the same area. Before long they were in a relationship and Sophie was blissfully happy and contemplating a rosy future.
And then the previous Easter, Brett had told her he’d arranged to have a reunion for a few days with some pals from his university days. She said she’d understood and they’d have plenty of time to be together afterwards.
Sophie had been stunned when she’d discovered Brett had been deceiving her and that he’d actually spent the time with a former girlfriend.
‘I’m sorry, Sophie,’ he’d told her. ‘We’ve had some good times together, but now I’m back with La
ura.’
Somehow Sophie managed to get through the next few weeks at school, but then she’d handed in her notice and left at the end of term. Returning to live with her parents in Hertfordshire, she’d enlisted with a teaching agency.
Sophie had been on automatic pilot since then. She supposed she’d have to get round to thinking what she wanted to do with the rest of her life before long. Perhaps coming to Penbridge was a fortuitous interlude. She suspected her mother would have filled Aunt Rose in with the bare outline of what had happened.
As Sophie plumped up her pillows, her thoughts turned to Rowanbank and its new occupant, Keir Ellison. It was good for Aunt Rose to know that there was someone living there at last. It was a big house for one person to live in, but there’d been no mention of a wife or partner. A good-looking man like Keir Ellison was bound to have someone in his life, wasn’t he? Not that it was of the slightest interest to Sophie.
The next thing Sophie knew it was morning and it seemed very bright in the room. She checked her watch. It was barely seven o’clock. She realised it must be the snow that made it seem so light. Shrugging on her dressing-gown, she crossed to the window and flung back the curtains. All she could see was a blanket of white. She showered and dressed then sped downstairs.
Ten minutes later she had made the tea and fed the cat, who had eyed her warily and then shot out of the cat flap. Aunt Rose hobbled into the kitchen in her dressing-gown.
‘Hello, dear, did you sleep well? It doesn’t look any better out there, does it?’
‘No, but at least it’s stopped snowing.’
As they sat over cups of tea, Sophie made a list of things she could do. It seemed as if they would be snowed in for a few days yet.
‘Well, there’s no rush,’ Aunt Rose said, as they ate breakfast round the kitchen table in comfort. ‘I just hope you’re not going to be too bored, dear. You must be used to a busy life.’
‘Oh, I’m sure I’ll find plenty to do here,’ Sophie assured her.
