‘Yes, it’s fine now we’re moving.’ The wide tread on the wheels did seem to be handling the uneven surface just fine so he left her to it as they strolled along, their trainers crunching over the stones.
It was still a bit overcast, but at least the rain had cleared overnight and though there was a hint of autumn crispness in the air, it was still warm enough to be pleasant. As they walked, Tristan showed her the path down towards the formal gardens and chatted a bit about the work Iggy had put in to restore them to their former glory. ‘Can you see the tops of those tall trees in the distance?’ He pointed to the narrow tips of a long stand of cypress trees just showing over the thick hedges of the formal gardens. ‘Just beyond them we’ve got a fantastic display area, complete with a water garden which is an exclusive Will Talbot, gardener to the rich and famous, design.’ They shared a grin at his teasing tone about his sister’s boyfriend. We used it for the summer fete, and also pitched a marquee there for Arthur and Lucie’s wedding reception. The fountains were the perfect backdrop, and they’ve got a programmed light display which is stunning in the evening. I want to put on a winter festival with lots of food and drink outlets and the kind of stalls you get in Christmas markets. I’ve also got details of the guy who helped Will design the lighting for the fountains and I’m going to pick his brains about doing something similar in the woods.’ He gestured back behind them towards the thick stretch of trees which bordered one side of the land. ‘We installed a couple of easy walks during the summer, including one which is a loop and I thought we could use that.’
‘I’ve been to one of those before, and they’re incredibly atmospheric.’
‘Yes, I went to a couple around London. And we can set up a catering point at the entrance/exit to the walk so people can warm themselves up with a nice hot chocolate or a glass of mulled wine.’
‘Make sure you agree a deal with the caterer that anyone bringing a reusable cup gets a discount. It will cut down on waste and the risk of people dropping their rubbish. Perhaps you could order some with the castle motif on and sell them alongside the drinks – going green is on a lot of peoples’ conscience at the moment, and it’ll bring it a bit more revenue as well as giving you free advertising.’
Tristan groaned. Not because it wasn’t a great idea, but because he really needed to get his arse in gear in sorting out lines for a gift shop. And work out where the hell they were going to put a gift shop. When she looked at him askance, he told her as much, and she laughed. ‘You really didn’t think everything through before you started, did you?’
He shrugged. ‘We did what we could, but the imperative was to get people through the gates and some money – any money – coming in. If Lucie hadn’t found the painting, I’m not sure we’d still be living here now.’
‘Things were that bad? I’m sorry, I had no idea. I mean, I knew you’d come home because your father died, which is terrible, of course, but I didn’t …’ Jess trailed off, her face reddening.
‘Hey,’ he said, putting a gentle hand on her shoulder. ‘Don’t worry, I knew what you meant. To be honest, I don’t think any of us realised how dire things were until after Dad died – he did his best to shield us from it all, which is I think what killed him in the end. In trying to rescue our finances he got ripped off by a conman.’ An old anger stirred in his gut. ‘He might be in jail, but ours wasn’t the only family who lost more than money because of what he did.’
‘Oh, Tristan, I wish I’d known.’
Her sympathy was welcome, but there wasn’t anything she could’ve done. It might have been nice to know someone was worrying for him, though. The neediness in that thought made him profoundly uncomfortable. This was a woman in the throes of a divorce and facing a very uncertain future with two children to think about. He should be trying to ease her burdens, not want her to take on his as well. ‘I think you had enough on your plate.’
It was her turn to shrug. ‘People don’t have a finite capacity to care. If you don’t ever let your shields down, it’s not possible to have more than superficial relationships. When things were going wrong with Steve, my first instinct was to hold it all in, but that would’ve been a mistake. I knew there were times when I wouldn’t be able to cope with everything, and by being honest with Tim and Charlie I got the support I needed before I reached crisis point.’
The logic of her statement was mostly lost on him because his brain had locked onto the word ‘superficial’ and had gone into a spiral of outrage and embarrassment. Not everyone wore their heart on their sleeves, and if he chose to mask his feelings then what of it? He’d never been one to blubber into his hanky, but that didn’t mean he didn’t care deeply. If he needed a shoulder to lean on, he had Arthur and Iggy for that. But Arthur and Iggy were moving on with their lives and had other people, other priorities now.
As they walked past the old gatehouse that panicky sense he was being left behind clawed at his insides once more. What was he doing with his life? He needed a proper plan, and he needed it quickly. Staring through the dusty windows of an empty building with a headful of dreams and half-ideas wasn’t good enough anymore. There was no point in yearning after the kind of happiness and stability his siblings had if he had nothing to offer a potential partner.
It was one of the things he’d stalled out on last night after downloading a couple of the most popular dating apps. They all wanted to know stuff like where he lived and what job he did, and there was no easy way to explain his circumstances. ‘I still live at home’, didn’t sound great for any thirty-year-old, even if his home was a castle. ‘I sort of work for my brother’ sounded even less appealing, and so he’d left the boxes unfilled, his profile incomplete.
Christ, he needed to stop feeling sorry for himself and get a grip. It was time to have those conversations with Arthur he’d been postponing and find out if those dreams could be turned into reality. If they couldn’t, if Arthur had a different vision for running things at the castle which didn’t directly involve him, at least he’d know and could start making some alternative plans. Iggy had found a rewarding new life for herself away from Bluebell Castle, and Tristan himself had done the same before, too. He’d always been great at selling stuff, at finding the right words for a decent bit of copy. Looked like he was going to have to find a way to market himself.
Chapter 7
Jess watched Tristan usher the children out of the head teacher’s office with more than a little trepidation. Though they seemed content enough to go with him, and the prospect of exploring a new place and the promise of sweets from the shop enough to keep them happy, he was still little more than a stranger to them.
‘The shop is less than five minutes’ walk. If there’s any problem, he’ll have them back here in a jiffy.’ Mrs Winters said, tearing her attention away from the closed door. ‘Now why don’t you have a seat and let’s see what I can do to help you.’
‘Those mind-reading skills must come in very useful when you’re dealing with the children,’ Jess said with a rueful laugh as she took the offered seat on the opposite side of the desk. It was a small room, made cheerful by a wall full of colourful drawings and thank you cards, and an array of potted plants which filled every empty spot on the desk not covered in paper.
‘If only! Now, can I get you a drink, only instant I’m afraid, but I’ve got a nice selection of teas.’
‘I’m fine, thank you.’ Jess shifted on her seat. ‘It was good of you to see me without an appointment.’
‘Oh, nonsense.’ The silver-haired woman waved a hand. ‘We don’t stand on ceremony here like they might have to in a larger school. With the way the economy’s going we struggle more each year to hang onto our younger families in the village so there’s no problem with fitting your lad into the class.’ Folding her hands on the desk in front of her, she leaned forward in a confiding manner. ‘If you’re here to help boost the fortunes of the castle, then I for one am delighted to welcome you and your family to Camland. The work the baron
et is doing is already paying dividends for the village.’
It struck Jess then just how closely the fortunes of the local families must be tied to those of the Ludworths. Though it had been hard to see anything through the driving rain last night, she’d not missed how remote a location it was, and she’d seen no evidence of local industry on her approach. ‘I think it’s more a case of them helping to boost my fortunes, but I’m happy to be here anyway, even if the circumstances are a little unorthodox.’
‘Well, yes, it is a bit unusual, and a shame – Elijah, is it …?’ Jess nodded and Mrs Winters continued. ‘A shame he couldn’t have started at the beginning of term with the others, but he’s only missed a few days and it won’t take long for him to make friends, I’m sure.’
Jess swallowed down a wash of bitter guilt. ‘I’d registered him at another school, and they were aware of his later starting date but then everything changed at the very last minute.’
‘Because you got the offer of this job?’ There was no missing the gentle probing behind the question.
‘I wasn’t expecting it, that’s for sure.’ God, that made her sound flighty as a bird. Sitting up straighter in an attempt to not look or feel like a naughty child herself, Jess decided to come clean. ‘My husband and I have separated, and I was going to move the boys back home to live with my family in the short term. Tristan offered me an alternative to that, and I think this move is the best for the three of us.’
‘Better to move away to a place where you don’t know anyone rather than live back home?’
Jess wanted to tell Mrs Winters to stop prying, but she supposed this is what life in a small community was like. ‘My parents are very kind, very loving people.’ It was true, regardless of how her mother’s words hurt sometimes, Jess knew they were never malicious. ‘My mum has always been a bit rigid when it comes to rules, and I’m not sure exposing the boys – particularly Elijah – to her uh … inflexibility is the best thing for him right now.’ It felt horribly disloyal to speak of her mother like this to a stranger, but Elijah needed all the confidence she could give him as they all tried to navigate their way through this turbulent patch in their lives. ‘Coming here gives me a bit of breathing space whilst taking a job which suits my career.’
‘So, you don’t anticipate this being a permanent move?’ Mrs Winters steepled her fingers, her expression thoughtful, but there was no judgment in it that Jess could detect.
‘I’m here to manage a specific project through to the new year. By then, things will be more settled on the domestic front, and I’ve got time between now and then to work out what I want to do for the longer term.’
Mrs Winters nodded. ‘While it would be advantageous for Elijah to be able to continue his schooling uninterrupted for as long as possible, I recognise that’s not always possible. You’ll keep me informed?’
‘Absolutely.’
‘Well, there’s paperwork to be done and we’ll have to get Elijah registered with the local authority, but I’m content for him to start here on a casual basis until the formalities are concluded. It can only be to his benefit to start as quickly as possible – is tomorrow too early for you? We don’t have a branded uniform. Black trousers and shoes, a white polo shirt and a red jumper. They’re all easily obtained from one of the big supermarkets, and we’ve got a donations box because most families are on a tight budget, so they donate anything that’s been outgrown that still has a bit of life left in it. I’m sure we can rustle up something for Elijah to tide him over the next few days.’
‘He has black trousers and shoes, and I’ll get online and order the rest as soon as we get home.’
‘Perfect. Let’s pop next door and have a look at what we can find, and we can get the paperwork started with the school secretary at the same time.’ Mrs Winters led her to the door, then paused without opening it. ‘I know I’ve asked some very personal questions, and I appreciate you’ve been very honest so far, but can I ask how your relationship is with Elijah’s father?’
‘We’re on speaking terms; better than, really. He’s gone back to university as a mature student, so the boys won’t see much of him in the coming weeks, but the plan is to Skype most days.’ She scrunched her nose. ‘It’s not ideal, but it’s the best we could come up with.’
‘The joys of modern technology. We have a girl a year or two older than Elijah whose father is in the military. He’s on deployment at the moment, and I know they use it to keep in touch. She’s a sensible girl, and very friendly so I might get her to help Elijah settle in a bit as she knows better than most how tough it can be when you’re missing a parent.’ She patted Jess on the arm. ‘Don’t worry about Elijah, we will take very good care of him for as long as he is a part of this school.’
The relief swamping Jess was almost overwhelming. Thank heaven there were good people in this world like Mrs Winters. ‘Thank you.’ It was hard to get the words out around the lump in her throat.
As though sensing her struggle, the head teacher said no more, merely opened her office door and took Jess to meet the school secretary and they were soon too busy sorting through the clothing donations box and making a start on Elijah’s registration for Jess to have time to get emotional.
The rest of that first week passed by so quickly, Jess barely had time to blink. With the help of Lucie and Constance she managed to get all her boxes unpacked within a couple of days and with their familiar toys and things around them, the boys seemed to have settled into their little attic haven without any major issues. The twice daily walk to and from school with Elijah, as well as multiple trips up and down the stairs were doing wonders for her fitness, and by Friday she could make it to the top floor without feeling even a little out of breath. A trip to the outskirts of the nearest big town had resolved Elijah’s uniform issue, and although the Ludworths had offered to redecorate their suite of rooms, Jess had preferred to make a visit to the local DIY store and pick up some colourful posters and wall decals which brightened up the walls without the disruption of moving furniture around, or the smell of fresh paint to irritate sensitive noses.
Between Tristan and Mrs W, she’d had a thorough tour of the place and her mind was already buzzing with dozens of ideas. She’d picked up a new notebook at the supermarket and scribbled notes in it of everything as it came to mind. Her phone was full of photos she’d taken of different rooms – from the guest bedrooms to the breathtaking library with its floor to ceiling shelves and access to the enchanting orangery stuffed full of exotic plants and blooms. By Friday, she was eager to get started, but Tristan was insistent she took the full week to settle in and had arranged a meeting with Arthur for Monday morning when they would try and thrash out the basic details of what they would offer guests so Tristan could update the website.
With Isaac down for a nap and a couple of hours remaining before Elijah needed to be collected from school, Jess had decided to do some solo exploring to help coalesce her mishmash of ideas into something more substantive. Tristan had identified ten rooms in the guest wing he thought would offer suitable accommodation, and while Jess could see the merit in maximising their revenue, she believed limiting the first year to half a dozen couples would not only make things more manageable, it would enhance the idea they were part of the family rather than simply paying guests. Twenty felt like a lot of people, too, when it came to finding public spaces they could comfortably use, unless they spread them out over more rooms which would defeat the intimate feel they were aiming for. Knowing she would have to sell him on the idea, Jess started with a review of the bedrooms, making a list of pros and cons for each of them and ranking them in her order of preference.
She was just shutting the door on the suite which was her personal favourite – a bedroom decorated in shades of cream and gold, with an adjoining small sitting room in muted green shades and a bathroom dominated by an enormous roll top bath – when she spotted a dark velvet curtain at the end of the corridor. Assuming it was a window, she went to t
ug it back so there would be more light to inspect the corridor and spot any remedial repairs or redecorations. To her surprise, the curtain concealed not a window, but a flight of carpeted stairs. Peering down, she tried to see where they led, but her view was blocked by a half-landing about a dozen steps down. Curiosity piqued, she felt around until she located a light switch then began to make her way down in the gloom of the single bulb still working in the pair of wall sconces. She had better luck with the middle section of the stairs as the lights there were fine, but she needed the torch function on her phone to make it to the very bottom where she found a closed door. More with hope than expectation, she turned the handle and found herself towards the bottom end of the picture gallery being glared down at by a portrait of one of Tristan’s very haughty-looking ancestors.
Excited, she turned to check her bearings and gave herself a mental high-five as she spotted the entrance to the orangery. It wouldn’t take much to get the staircase refurbished and those dead bulbs replaced giving their guests a private route directly from their bedrooms to the parts of the castle she hoped to utilise as their rest and relaxation areas. Pushing open the door to the orangery, she paused, eyes closing for a second as the warm, perfumed air hit her nostrils. Remembering Tristan’s warning about protecting the temperature so as not to risk damaging the plants, she stepped inside and shut the door firmly behind her. She’d seen some glorious spaces around the castle, but this one might just be her favourite. Each plant had a neatly penned label at its base, which would likely fascinate those with a passion for horticulture, but Jess couldn’t care less about the names or genus listed below the English in Latin. It was more about the atmosphere for her, the colours and vibrancy of the leaves, the scents of the various blooms and the oxygen-rich environment.
The Bluebell Castle Collection Page 56
