by Jenny Lane
‘I’d be more than happy for you to stay as long as you feel able,’ Aunt Rose told Sophie. ‘It’s lovely for me to have your company, but as for paying for your keep — I should be paying you for all the jobs you’re doing for me.’
Sophie decided that when she went shopping she would pay for the purchases. It was the least she could do in the circumstances.
There was a sharp frost coating the grass like icing sugar. Aunt Rose decided to stay put and, after breakfast, Sophie assembled the ingredients for the Victoria sandwich Aunt Rose had insisted on making and, by the time the sun was making a watery appearance, the cake was cooling on its stand.
Sophie set off with a list and full instructions on how to get to the various places, including the farm shop.
‘I usually get a lift with Mrs Cole from church, but she’s got a bad cold,’ Aunt Rose had explained. ‘Anyway, I’ve plenty to occupy me here until you get back. Take your time, dear. And I heard Crystal asking if you were going to call into the library. I’ve got another book to return, if you’re going in that direction.’
Sophie realised she was going to have a busy morning and she hadn’t even phoned the agency yet. She drove to the farm shop first and stocked up on fruit and vegetables, and then sat in the small car park and spoke to Lynne at the agency.
She was offered a post which started with immediate effect in a school a few miles from the one she’d been working in. The member of staff had had an operation and was unlikely to be back at work this side of half term.
After she’d turned it down, Sophie sat for a few minutes longer, wondering if she’d made the right decision. She’d had no intention of staying more than a week or so when she’d first arrived in Penbridge, but there was something about the place that made her want to stay on. It was good meeting up with Crystal again. She smiled, and admitted to herself that, in spite of her better judgement, part of the attraction for staying on was Keir Ellison.
Having finished her shopping, Sophie popped into the library which was deserted, apart from a couple of students using the computers and an elderly lady selecting a large print book. Crystal grinned at Sophie.
‘I was hoping you’d drop by. Do you fancy a coffee? We’ve just got time for a ten minute breather before the kiddies come for their story-telling session.’
Crystal called across to her assistant who was tidying one of the shelves and disappeared out the back to return, a few moments later, with two brightly coloured mugs and a packet of chocolate biscuits.
‘Emma will have her break later. We take it in turns,’ she explained. She lowered her voice. ‘I think I’ve struck gold, Sophie. Alan’s gorgeous. We went out again yesterday afternoon and it’s all thanks to Keir.’
‘I thought you two looked as if you were hitting it off on Saturday.’
‘I’m not into blind dates as a rule, but Alan’s so lovely, so how could I resist? Anyway, you seemed to be getting on well with Keir.’
‘Oh, I should imagine Keir is one of those fellows who gets on well with everyone,’ she said nonchalantly. ‘He seems to have thrown himself into life round here.’
‘So do I take it you’ll be at his talk tomorrow night, then?’
‘Yes, although I’m not sure about Aunt Rose. How about you?’
Crystal beamed. ‘Alan’s volunteered to do the visual aids so, yes, I certainly will.’
‘Actually, I’ve been invited to Rowanbank this afternoon.’ Sophie explained.
‘You should be so honoured. Of course, I keep forgetting Hugh Mercer was a relative of yours.’
‘Yes, he was my father’s cousin, but he was miles older, which is why my brother and I called him Uncle Hugh. Anyway, I doubt if that has any bearing on anything where Keir is concerned. He hadn’t a clue who I was when I first turned up.’
‘Well, he certainly does now — he got Mum to fill him in. She’s a positive mine of information about local folk and their families.’
Sophie would have liked to question Crystal further — ask a few more questions about Keir — but she didn’t want to give her the wrong impression. After all, it was just idle curiosity about the man who had come to live in her late uncle’s house who seemed to be occupying more and more of her thoughts.
‘It’ll be interesting to find out what happens when Erica returns,’ Crystal commented.
Startled, Sophie stared at her friend. ‘How do you mean? Erica’s not likely to return to Penbridge, is she? Now that she’s sold Rowanbank.’
It was Crystal’s turn to look surprised. ‘But she hasn’t sold Rowanbank. Whatever gave you that idea? She’s just renting it out to Keir whilst she’s in Spain. That’s why it’s still full of her things.’
Sophie tried to get her head round this.
‘I’m sure Aunt Rose is under the impression that Keir’s here for good.’
‘Perhaps it’s best left like that for the moment. After all, Mrs Harding didn’t exactly hit it off with Erica, did she? Hugh Mercer had to go over to Rose Cottage if he wanted to see her.’
Sophie stared at Crystal, suddenly sensing there were things here that she didn’t understand. Setting down her coffee mug, she returned Aunt Rose’s book, selected a couple for herself, on Crystal’s recommendation, and left just as several small children were being shepherded into the library by their parents.
***
Rowanbank was a red brick house built in the 1930s. Sophie hadn’t set foot in it for a number of years, but she still felt a sense of pleasure as she stopped for a moment to admire it.
Keir ushered her into the study which was a small, book-lined room with a coal-effect gas fire, making it seem cosy. It had been Uncle Hugh’s domain and, apart from the fire and some new plum-coloured, velvet curtains, Sophie didn’t think it had changed much from when she’d previously seen it.
Keir sat opposite Sophie and shuffled some papers and, for the next hour, she listened and commented as he gave her an outline of his talk.
‘I don’t want to blind people with techniques or masses of history,’ he explained. ‘So I thought I’d just begin by giving a few examples of early pieces of pottery found in the area — show some illustrations of what they would have looked like originally — before moving on to stuff one might find in a church.’
Sophie frowned. ‘You mean like a chalice or patten, but surely most of those were made from silver.’
‘True, but some might have been ceramics. And then, there are the harvest jugs which are interesting. Moving on, I plan to touch briefly on the Staffordshire potteries and then show some slides to include Clarice Cliff and Moorcroft. I’ll finish off by giving a few examples of my own efforts and those of my students. I also plan to have some work on display in one of the side rooms. What do you think?’
She nodded. ‘It’s fascinating, but you must have got enough material for several talks there.’
‘Mmm, I’ll obviously need to keep an eye on the clock. I’ll round off the evening with a question and answer session, followed by refreshments for those who want to stay.’
‘I’m looking forward to it,’ Sophie assured him with a smile.
‘Come into the sitting room and have some tea — thanks for your input, Sophie.’
Over tea, she surveyed the duck-egg blue walls and the modern drapes and cream leather suite. Erica had certainly put her mark on things here. Sophie recalled the rather sober magnolia wallpaper and beige curtains that had been there previously and felt a sudden pang for how things used to be. The pictures were not to her taste either — gone were the gentle rural scenes, which had been replaced by rather bland Chinese prints.
Sophie wondered if they belonged to Keir, but somehow didn’t think so.
As if reading her thoughts he said, ‘Those are Erica’s. Apart from a few of my personal possessions, everything’s just as she left it.’
‘Well, this room is certainly very different from the way I remember it. No wonder Aunt Rose gets a bit emotional when she mentions it.’
> Keir gave her a steady look from rich brown eyes. ‘But from what I understand, Rose would have opposed anything that Erica set out to do. They didn’t exactly hit it off, did they?’
‘That was hardly Aunt Rose’s fault,’ Sophie said, springing to the elderly lady’s defence. ‘I don’t believe she was made to feel welcome at Rowanbank once Erica had got her feet under the table.’
‘You don’t appear to like Erica either,’ he remarked. ‘What’s she done to you?’
‘Nothing! I don’t know what you mean. I scarcely know the woman. We only met on a couple of occasions. We weren’t invited to the wedding, which apparently was a very low key affair, but my family met up with Uncle Hugh and Erica for a meal when they were staying in St Albans. And then we met up with them again, when they were in London for one of Uncle Hugh’s charity dos.’
Sophie was uncomfortably aware that Keir was studying her quizzically, a slight frown on his face.
‘Anyway, what’s it to you whether I like or dislike Erica? I suppose you’re going to tell me you’re a friend of hers.’
‘Yes. Actually I am. She’s allowing me to live at Rowanbank for a nominal rent whilst she’s in Spain.’
Sophie stared at him open-mouthed. ‘You mean Erica might be coming back here to live?’ she asked, when she’d found her voice.
He shrugged. ‘It’s early days yet. She hasn’t exactly found Penbridge a friendly place.’
‘Then maybe she should either work at it a little harder or consider moving away for good and starting afresh,’ Sophie said caustically, and then could have bitten her tongue, as she saw Keir’s severe expression.
‘Harsh words, Miss Burnett, but you don’t know all the facts.’
Sophie stood up, eyes smouldering. ‘I’m not sure I want to. But I do know none of my family have felt welcome here since Erica set foot in the place. It’s as if she wanted to erase all that had gone before. Aunt Rose was deeply hurt by Erica’s attitude and we’re bound to support her.’
‘Quite,’ he said reasonably. ‘I’m glad you’re so loyal. This subject’s obviously something we both beg to differ over, but that doesn’t mean to say we can’t be friends, does it?’
He caught her hands between his so that she was powerless to move, feeling the magnetism between them. Her eyes flashed as she surveyed him, long lashes sweeping her cheeks and he had a sudden overwhelming desire to kiss her, but instead found himself saying, ‘Has anyone told you, you have the most beautiful eyes, and when you’re angry they’re magnificent.’
For a moment, he’d rendered her speechless. Her colour heightened and her heart beat painfully against her rib cage. She gave him a little smile.
‘You can’t win me over by turning on the charm, Keir Ellison,’ she remarked, trying to keep her voice steady.
‘No, but I can always try,’ he rejoined and, bending forward, cupped her face in his hands and kissed her on the tip of her nose. ‘Thanks for all your help with my talk, Sophie.’
‘You’re welcome,’ she told him lightly, endeavouring to sound normal.
***
‘How did you get on, dear?’ Aunt Rose enquired when Sophie entered the cottage shortly afterwards.
‘Fine,’ Sophie assured her. ‘I can see what you mean about the way Erica’s altered things.’
Aunt Rose sighed. ‘Yes, well she’s still young and obviously has very different tastes and ideas from Mary. Hugh kept things much the same over all those years, but things change. Probably Keir will put his stamp on things too.’
‘You think he’s planning to stay here then?’
‘We’ll have to wait and see, won’t we? Time will tell. Anyway, I’ve had a productive afternoon. Frances has got some excellent ideas for the Easter Fayre.’
Sophie listened politely, but all the time, found her thoughts straying to Keir. He had been very much on the defensive where Erica was concerned, making it seem as if Aunt Rose was to blame for the rift in their relationship. Sophie didn’t understand, and she was determined to get to the bottom of it.
As she got ready for bed that night, Sophie wondered if she’d been too hasty in turning down the job from the agency. After all, there might not be another suitable one for quite some time and, if things didn’t work out here, she would regret her decision. Then she remembered the way Keir had looked at her, that slight moment of intimacy and knew that there was an undeniable chemistry between them. She sighed — if only Erica Mercer wouldn’t keep coming between them. Sophie heartily wished Erica would remain in Spain for ever.
On an impulse, Sophie texted her brother, Tim, who was a notoriously late one for going to bed. He rang her within a couple of minutes.
‘Hi, Soph, how are things?’
She explained as briefly as possible.
‘OK, well, I know even less than you about this Erica. I thought she’d sold Rowanbank.’
‘So did I, but I suppose it would have been a bit quick. Anyway, apparently Keir Ellison’s a friend of Erica’s and seems to think our family have been a bit unfair towards her, but I can’t see where he’s coming from. Personally, I think there’s a bit more to all of this than we’re aware of.’
Tim whistled. ‘Wasn’t there something mysterious about those letters informing Mum and Dad and Aunt Rose that they’d already had something of value from Uncle Hugh, as if he was trying to tell them something from beyond the grave?’
‘Don’t be so melodramatic, Tim! If there was anything of value, don’t you think Aunt Rose and our parents would have fathomed it out by now?’
‘Perhaps that’s what this guy, Keir Whatsit, is doing — trying to suss it out for Erica.’
‘Actually, I’m not really interested, Tim. Although it would have been nice if Aunt Rose could have had some recognition for all she’d done for Uncle Hugh over the years.’
‘Are you talking to yourself in there, dear, or have you got a visitor?’ came Aunt Rose’s voice from the foot of the stairs.
‘Sorry, Aunt Rose — just talking to Tim on my mobile — Tim, have a word with Aunt Rose.’ She sped down the stairs and passed her mobile over.
Sophie lay awake for ages that night, going over the events of the day. Keir had seemed such a nice uncomplicated sort of person, but she should have realised from past experience that life was never that simple. Keir had insinuated that she was not in possession of all the facts about what had really caused the animosity between Erica and Aunt Rose. Sophie sighed — just as she was beginning to enjoy life here in Penbridge, this had cropped up. OK, she supposed she could do one of two things. Ignore the undercurrents and take each day as it came, or try to work out what they were all about.
***
The village hall was packed that evening. Fortunately, Crystal and Mavis Briggs had saved them a couple of seats fairly near the front.
‘Good turnout, isn’t it?’ Crystal commented.
‘So who are all these people?’ asked Sophie, looking about her in surprise.
‘Students from the various classes Keir works with, villagers, and friends. He’s popular.’
It was a fascinating talk and Sophie found herself watching Keir as he spoke and wondering again what had brought him to Penbridge. He looked incredibly handsome, his thick, fair hair contrasting with his dark jacket and blue striped, open-necked shirt. His voice was rich and clear, and she caught the enthusiasm for his subject in his tone.
When the talk had ended, the applause was deafening. After a question time, Keir announced that refreshments would be served, adding, ‘I’ve set up a small exhibition in the side room if you’d care to take a look. There’s a variety of work from some of my present classes, together with one or two other items that I thought you might be interested in.’
Sophie managed to procure a couple of cups of coffee and was about to take them across to Aunt Rose when Keir skilfully added his own cup to the tray and removed it from her.
‘Let me — so what did you think?’
‘It all went very wel
l,’ she told him honestly. ‘You’ve made me want to have a go myself.’
‘So, why don’t you?’ His brown eyes met hers. ‘Once the craft centre is up and running I intend to hold classes there but, until then, you’d be more than welcome to join my beginners’ class. Crystal’s going to come along.’
‘I’d like that, but I’m not sure how long I’m going to be around,’ she told him, acutely aware that she’d like to spend more time with him.
‘OK, have a think about it and let me know,’ he said as he distributed the coffee.
After a few minutes, Keir excused himself and went across to speak to another group of people. Aunt Rose was deep in conversation with Mavis Briggs, and Crystal and Alan were chatting to some members of Keir’s evening class, so Sophie collected up the empty cups, returned them to the hatch and went to take a look at the ceramics exhibition which was being manned by several of Keir’s students.
There was a wide selection of items, ranging from earrings and pendants to bowls and vases. Spotting some of Keir’s work, Sophie bent to take a closer look. The bowls were exquisitely decorated in rich, jewel-like colours.
‘Quite something, aren’t they?’ one of the students said. ‘Keir’s such a talented guy and we’re learning so much from him.’
Sophie moved to the next display and was astonished to recognise some pieces from Rowanbank that had belonged to Hugh. She knew he’d enjoyed going to antique fairs and, in amongst some of the more modern items, realised there were likely to be some valuable antiques. She just hoped that no-one would damage them.
The crowd was thinning out when Keir caught up with her again.
‘This exhibition is quite something,’ she told him. ‘Your students seem so enthusiastic. I really like your stuff, Keir — the colours are amazing.’
He touched her arm. ‘Thanks, Sophie. I realise some people prefer pastel shades, but each to his own, eh?’
