by Jenny Kane
‘I don’t have to go back until we do the official filming in August. Richard is almost done down there too. He’ll be back at the manor soon so he can finish the table.’
‘That’s brilliant. Thank you.’ Thea suddenly felt shy. ‘Are you coming back to the manor to stay, or would you rather sleep at the Stag and Hound? I know Moira would be pleased to see you. She feels guilty about last night, although it wasn’t her fault.’
Shaun smiled. ‘If you think I’m letting you out of my sight until we’ve sorted out the John issue, then you have another think coming.’
‘Thank Minerva for that!’ Thea sighed, before remembering she’d arranged to stay at Tina’s for the night.
‘Don’t worry, I’ve spoken to Tina. She knows I’m bringing you back to Mill Grange. Let’s be honest, you have to be seen to be there, not just for the sake of the volunteers, but to show John he hasn’t driven you out.’
‘You think he’ll be waiting there?’ Thea tried to keep the trepidation from her voice, but failed.
‘If he is, then he’ll need to get past Sam and me.’
‘Sam camps in the woods – pretty easy to pass.’
‘Not anymore. He’s moved onto the patch of grass by the car park, bang on the path between the two entrances to the house.’
‘That’s so kind.’
‘He is. Sam’s a lovely man.’
‘I wish Tina would—’
‘Shall we sort out our own mess before we start matchmaking for them?’
Thirty-One
May 20th
‘Coffee, madam?’ Shaun placed a mug of coffee on the table next to his bed.
‘Thank you,’ Thea mumbled as her eyes came into focus. ‘What time is it?’
‘Only half six, but I thought you’d want to get out of my room before Mabel arrived.’
‘Good point.’ She felt sheepish. ‘I can’t believe I fell asleep in your bed. I’m so sorry.’
Shaun laughed. ‘Believe me, I’m sorry too, but only because I rather hoped that the first time you slept in my bed I’d be in it with you.’
Thea blushed. ‘Me too, actually. I must have been more tired than I realised. I remember sitting down on the edge of the bed and talking to you, and…’
‘…and how much fun we had almost getting into bed together.’
‘Oh yes.’ Thea pulled up the blanket, clutching it to the chest Shaun had inspected so attentively the previous evening, as if trying to trap in the memory of the heat of his fingers. ‘Then common sense intervened and you dashed off to check on Sam before we…’
‘Got under the covers?’ Shaun grinned at Thea’s coyness. ‘When I got back you were spark out across the bed at right angles. A fine compliment to my seductive skills I must say!’
‘I’m so sorry.’ Thea reached out a hand to take his. ‘I really did want to.’
‘I know. I did too, but there will be other times. Lots of them.’
‘Why didn’t you nudge me over and get in too?’
Shaun shook his head. ‘I suspect you haven’t slept well since John’s arrival. I didn’t want to risk waking you, so I tucked the linen around you and had a go at sleeping in your attic bed.’
‘How the hell did you fit in that?’
‘It was both an adventure and a challenge.’
Suddenly conscious of her rumpled clothing, Thea pulled the bed linen up even further to cover all of her bra. ‘It’s been a very long time since I slept semi-dressed.’
‘Since you were on excavation?’
‘I was on Lindisfarne, helping uncover a Saxon farmstead. The air off the North Sea was cripplingly cold, especially at night.’
‘You want to go back to that life?’
Thea wasn’t sure if Shaun was looking wistful or concerned she was about to flee for the thrill of discovery in pastures new. ‘I’d do a new excavation like a shot, but I’m not sure I could face the rough sleeping conditions at my age.’
‘Even if you had someone to keep you warm at night?’
‘Perhaps.’ Thea smiled. ‘If the Trust sells I might try to get back on the circuit. It would give me time to think out my options while hunting for something else. You however, are a hot shot TV star. Hardly someone who needs to sleep in a tent.’
‘True.’ Shaun grinned. ‘But Landscape Treasures has an archaeology team, and as it happens, I’m well in with the person who selects the diggers.’
A flicker of hope stirred in Thea’s chest, but reality quickly squashed it. ‘And be known as the one who got the job because she’s sleeping with the boss? I couldn’t. I’d love the job, but I couldn’t.’
‘The excavation job or the sleeping with the boss job?’
‘Both?’
Swinging his long legs up onto the bed, so they were sat side by side, Shaun took hold of Thea’s covers, his voice husky. ‘That looks a comfortable blanket.’
‘It is.’ Thea licked her lips. ‘But right now, it desperately needs to come off.’
*
Tina threw her arms around Thea as she walked into the scullery. ‘Are you okay? Is Shaun staying? What’s happening?’
Having explained about the fake phone number, the broken engagement, and that Shaun was back until Open Day Thea added, ‘Sam’s been wonderful. If he hadn’t phoned Shaun, I dread to think what would have happened. How is he today?’
‘I haven’t seen him this morning. Why?’
‘Oh, you know. You two were having a nice cosy evening and then John ruined everything.’
‘Thea, honestly! I’ve told you he isn’t—’
‘Your type. So you keep saying. But the thing is, he is. So there.’
Tina’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. ‘What’s with you? I expected to find you worried sick about John turning up here this morning, but you’re positively aglow.’ Before she’d even finished the sentence, a knowing look spread across Tina’s face and she all but punched the air. ‘At last!’
‘What do you mean, at last?’
‘You and Shaun. I’m so pleased.’
Thea couldn’t stop her own smile widening. ‘Is it that obvious?’
‘Afraid so.’
‘Oh hell, we didn’t want anyone to know. It won’t exactly help the situation with John, will it?’
‘My lips are sealed.’ Tina pulled a face. ‘Talking of John, what are we going to do about him?’
‘We’ve decided to act like nothing has happened. I know that sounds like we’re burying our heads in the sand, but I can’t think of another way to stop him. He’s a bully who’s not worth wasting energy on. If you react to bullies they keep going, if you ignore them, they get bored. Eventually.’
‘I bet you rehearsed that speech in the shower.’ Tina wasn’t convinced. ‘And now Shaun is here you feel more able to cope with John’s presence.’
‘There is that, yes.’ Thea’s eyes fell on the pile of paperwork that appeared to have doubled in size over the last twenty-four hours. ‘How about we try pretending he doesn’t exist for a while. Any news on the home front?’
‘Not much beyond what we already know needs doing. Oh, Sam was saying something about the manor maybe getting beehives.’
‘Great idea.’ Thea made a note on her ever present pad. ‘I’ll put that on the forward going list. Things to suggest as future money-making enterprises.’
‘Do you think it would be worth asking Malcolm what the current status is? I’m almost scared to ask in case asking makes it more likely to happen.’
‘I know what you mean. Don’t poke the bear seems a good policy to me.’
‘Well, whatever happens, the chickens need feeding. I’ll go and see if Sam has done them, if not I’ll see to them while you get on with that lot.’ Tina pointed to the offending paperwork. ‘Where’s Shaun anyway?’
‘He’s gone up to the mill to see how we’ve managed without him. I thought I’d head to Sybil’s later to see if she’s had any interest in our advert to be one of the three Open Day creatives.’
‘Thea, you’re back.’ She almost managed to sound pleased. ‘Are you feeling better?’
‘Thank you, yes. Just a twenty-four-hour bug.’ Thea saw Tina nodding in approval of the lie, before she disappeared in the direction of the hen house.
‘Many thanks for holding the fort, Mabel.’ Thea slipped onto her desk seat. ‘I have good news for you. Shaun is back. He’s looking around the mill.’
‘Oh, that is fabulous news.’ The old lady beamed. ‘I’d heard rumours that he wasn’t going to return, I’m so glad it wasn’t true.’
A cloud passed over Thea’s face. ‘Where did you hear that?’
‘When I was having dinner with Bert in the Stag. John was there. He said he’d heard a whisper that Shaun had decided not to bother with us now the manor was likely to be sold.’
Thea bristled with indignation. ‘I promise you, that was never the case. I would be very careful of believing anything John says.’
‘But he’s such a personable young man. No, he must have heard it from somewhere. The gutter press probably.’
Not wanting to pursue the point, Thea asked, ‘Anything to report from yesterday?’
‘Well yes. I’ve got some news which I’ve taken to be a very good sign.’
‘Really?’ Thea gestured to Tina’s empty chair, inviting Mabel to sit down.
‘The trustees have asked if we will prepare the attics to open to the public as well. People are always fascinated with servants’ living quarters aren’t they.’
Fixing a grin onto her face, hoping her sudden panic about where she might live didn’t show, Thea confirmed, ‘They want us to restore another four rooms on top of everything else with no more budget or time?’
Mabel waved the issue away. ‘You’re missing the point. If they want the rooms opened, surely it means they are less likely to sell?’
‘Or they want us to do them up so they can get a better price for the house on the market.’
‘That’s a very cynical attitude.’
‘Sorry, Mabel.’ Thea sat up straighter. ‘I think we’ll leave the attics for now. They are in a fairly good state. They all have the original little beds and some furniture in them. It’ll be a case of sugar soaping the walls, not repainting. I think we can afford to leave them for another fortnight and concentrate on the tasks we have in hand.’
In an attempt to divert Mabel’s attention from the attics, Thea added, ‘I’m going to walk up to see Sybil this morning to see if she has had any interest in our advert for weavers and so on. Would you like to come with me? We could call in on Shaun at the mill on the way?’
‘Good idea, we can talk about the attics on the way.’
*
As Thea watched Shaun and Mabel chatting as if they had been friends all their lives, one thought dominated her head. She was going to have to move out of Mill Grange. And soon. If Mabel realised she was living in at the same time as Shaun, she’d jump to conclusions. It didn’t help that those conclusions were accurate.
She phased back into conversation as Sybil arrived with a mound of piping hot cheesy scones, catching the end of Mabel’s report to Shaun. ‘The volunteers are all getting on really well. The students have been a blessing, although I’ll be honest, I thought they might be a bit of a waste of space. They seem to have got the restoration bug and love working with Derek and Sam.’
Pulling an extra chair up to the table, Sybil joined them. ‘I’ve noticed an uptake in younger customers chatting about their daily attacks on giant spider webs. You wouldn’t believe the quantities of coffee and hot chocolate they consume! I’m grateful to you all.’
Thea smiled. ‘Not as grateful as we are for your amazing cakes. Your sugar injections are keeping us going. Have we had any interest in the Open Day craft spots?’
Fishing a hand into her apron pocket, Sybil pulled out two cards. ‘There’s a potter who is interested in a long term let, but not the Open Day, and a hand knitter and spinner who’d like to chat to you about Open Day.’ She tapped the card in question against the table. ‘She uses wool taken off the moor after the sheep have scratched it onto gorse bushes and such like.’
‘Really? Well, okay, why not? Local would be good after all.’
Mabel didn’t look convinced as she asked, ‘You don’t fancy a place yourself then Sybil?’
‘Oh, I don’t think so. It’s been way too long since I played that game.’
Thea and Shaun swapped glances, before Thea asked, ‘What game?’
‘Sybil here is a fabulous felter. Used to do craft fairs and everything.’ Mabel gestured to the felt work pictures on the walls of the café. ‘You did those, didn’t you, Sybil?’
‘Ages ago.’
Shaun stood up to examine the work. ‘You’re clearly very good at it. I’m sure you’d have fun on the Open Day, but only if you wanted to do it.’
Sybil bit her bottom lip, clearly torn between what she felt she ought to do and what she wanted to do. ‘Can I think about it?’
‘Of course.’ Thea let Sybil escape to the safety of her kitchen as Mabel started to share the ‘good’ news about the attics with Shaun. Staring at her scone as Mabel talked, Thea considered the wisdom of moving into a bedroom at the pub. But she wouldn’t be able to afford that for long; nor did she want to as John clearly used the Stag and Hound.
She could come clean and say she was living at the manor, but with Shaun being there too… No, she didn’t want the rumours to fly. Although, did it matter now she and Shaun had been seen together at the pub in Taunton?
There’d been no sign of John so far that day, but it was still early. Thea knew he didn’t get up before ten o’clock if he could help it. She gulped back a groan as her thoughts continued to tumble.
There was only one thing Thea was sure of. John hadn’t given up yet.
Thirty-Two
June 1st
While Thea had mentally prepared herself for John’s anger or righteous indignation, what she hadn’t been prepared for was nothing.
It had been almost two weeks, and there had been no sign of John. At least, she hadn’t seen him. Some of the others had.
This lurking inaction, this tactic of making sure Thea knew he was around, but not when or if he was going to reappear at the manor, felt worse than when John was pestering her in person.
Derek and Bert had reported seeing him in Upwich, and Tina had seen John on a bench opposite Sybil’s Tea Room on a number of occasions glued to his mobile phone, but when, two days ago, she’d got up the courage to ask him what he was playing at, John had replied with a curt, ‘It’s none of your business.’
Despite Shaun’s comforting presence, she couldn’t relax. Thea felt trapped in a perpetual state of waiting.
She was waiting for answers from the Trust. She was waiting for something she could afford to rent to come on the market, while running out of excuses to delay the renovation of the attics. And, worst of all, she was waiting for John to pop up behind every hedge or from around every corner and declare his undying love. It was exhausting. But not as exhausting as pretending she was alright to everyone other than Tina, Shaun and Sam.
That morning, having come downstairs via the opposite staircase to Shaun, to make it look as if she was simply in early, and had arrived as he’d got up, Thea met Mabel on the porch. With far more pomp and ceremony than Thea thought the event warranted, Mabel turned the calendar over to July, circling the fifteenth day of the month with three strokes of her red marker pen.
Despite it being only eight-thirty in the morning, the older woman had been in high spirits. ‘That’s our aim then, Thea. 15th July. That’s one week from Open Day. We’ll have seven days to do the last-minute things.’
‘If we even have an Open Day, Mabel.’ Thea had grown tired of this discus
sion. She’d tried hard to stay optimistic about the future of the manor, but with each passing day with no word from Malcolm, she felt increasingly like she was decorating a house just so she could move out of it.
Conversely, over the last week, with no evident logic employed beyond wishful thinking, Mabel had decided that as the Trust hadn’t announced the sale, then it wasn’t going to happen. She’d wasted no time in spreading this idea around the volunteers, who’d lapped the news up, despite Thea’s repeated warnings that there was nothing to suggest Mabel was right.
But, as far as the volunteers and most of the village were concerned, Mabel was always right. What she wanted, she got. So, if Mrs Mabel Hastings said Mill Grange would be alright, then it would be.
With an enthusiastic energy Thea could only envy, the old lady tapped the calendar, saying ‘Seven weeks to go, then,’ before dashing off to the laundry to check Diane was doing what she’d told her to.
The days were passing so quickly. As Thea walked towards the walled garden she thought of all the hours she’d wasted worrying about what John’s next move was going to be.
‘Do you think he’s going to come back to Mill Grange?’ She threw a handful of seed to the chickens as she sought Gertrude’s wisdom.
The hen cocked her head in Thea’s direction as if giving the matter serious consideration, before shaking her bony shoulders and settling down to peck her grain at drill-like speed.
‘Well, you’re a big help I must say.’
‘She’s not big on communication that one.’ Sam crossed to the coop as he entered the garden, smiling at the brood affectionately. ‘Intelligent woman, our Gertrude. When there’s nothing good to say, she says nothing.’
‘Unlike Mabel, who seems to be concocting fiction out of thin air. Tina phoned the Trust yesterday to get an update, and the situation remains the same. No decision about the ongoing position at Mill Grange had been made.’
‘I assume you reported this to Mabel.’
