Chapter Twenty-Six
Ophelia
O phelia cautiously stepped out from the bedroom, her heart still pounding from the conversation she’d overheard. What kind of bitch was Jacinta? Not that Ophelia didn’t know that already, but for her to talk to Brann like that. How galling. No doubt that kind of conversation was standard fare for Jacinta. Ophelia didn’t like to think how often her name had been called mud by that woman.
‘Thank you for hiding me,’ she said.
Brann gave her a somewhat flat look, his expression giving nothing away. ‘No bother,’ he replied, his tone as neutral as his face.
Ophelia studied him for a second, searching for a sign of anything. But his demeanour remained impassive.
‘I’d get out of here sharpish if I were you,’ Brann added. ‘Your next suitor is along there.’
‘Oh, Jesus,’ Ophelia said. ‘Just what I need.’
‘I better get back to work. Enough hide and seek for me today.’ With that, he scaled the ladder and disappeared into the attic.
Ophelia watched him for a moment, without voicing any of the words she wanted to say. Jacinta’s words weighed heavy on her shoulders. Why do I never measure up to the expectations placed on me? Was it just Jacinta’s thinking, or was she actually to blame? Maybe she was as bad as all that.
As she walked away, Brann’s defence of her echoed in her mind. He understood. He’d tried to defend her – called her hardworking and generous. She should have thanked him for that. But there was so much she should have said to him at some point or other and yet, she hadn’t.
She strode through the estate grounds, the brisk February air doing little to dispel the lingering tension in her chest. Maybe it would never go away. Was this how she’d live from now on? Always on edge? What if she married one of these rich guys and hated him? Would she be coming out here every day to escape him? How stifling would it be? The sprawling stable came into view. Brann and co had built this. Such incredible workmanship. She pushed the heavy door open, the creak echoing in the spacious interior.
Conker whickered softly as Ophelia approached. The familiar scent of hay and leather calmed her. She’d spent so much time here – in the old building anyway – as a teenager when everything had seemed so messy and complicated after her parents split. It had been a safe haven, along with the boathouse. These days she didn’t do half as much as she’d like here, but it was still a happy place to come to.
‘Hey, Conker,’ Ophelia murmured, her fingers brushing over the horse’s velvety nose. She collected the grooming brushes. ‘Fancy a massage?’ She held out the brush.
The repetitive motion of it against Conker’s coat was calming, and the tension started to ease from Ophelia’s shoulders. Brann’s words lingered in her mind – he’d defended her, seen who she really was, even when others didn’t.
Conker’s contented posture made her smile. ‘You’re a good boy,’ she said. ‘I just wish I knew what to do.’
He nudged her shoulder affectionately.
‘Yeah, I know.’ She started brushing again.
The stable door opened, and Ophelia glanced over the partition to see who had come in.
‘Oh, hello.’ Dagmar flicked her long plait over her shoulder.
‘Hi. How are you?’
Dagmar didn’t look at Ophelia but turned her back to her and opened a feed box. ‘Not too good actually.’
‘Oh? What’s wrong?’
Dagmar sighed, turned and sat on the feed box. ‘Your father wants me to leave.’
Ophelia gave Conker a few treats from her pocket, then came out and sat next to Dagmar. ‘Why did he say that?’
‘Apparently there’s no money to pay me and I’m too expensive.’
Ophelia balled her fists. ‘We pay for quality and you’re the best at everything equine. I’ll keep paying you if I have to.’
Dagmar cracked a little smile. ‘Thanks, but that makes me feel guilty. Your father thinks volunteers can run the whole place and save him some money.’
Ophelia massaged her forehead and let out a sigh. ‘My father is so out of touch. I honestly don’t know how he stays alive. He’s so clueless. Let me talk to him. There’s no way this place can run with volunteers alone. In fact, we need more staff, not to get rid of the only person we have. This place is just starting to make money and if we’re to give riding lessons, we definitely need you. No way can I do that.’
‘You’re not that bad,’ Dagmar said.
‘Maybe, but I’m not that good either, and I don’t have the time. Leave it with me. I’ll go and talk to him.’
Just what she needed. Yet another ridiculous situation to deal with.
Her father wasn’t about when she got back, but Jacinta and Francesca were in the drawing room. ‘Have you seen Father?’ Ophelia asked.
‘He’s gone out with Anthony,’ Jacinta said. ‘Who was a bit miffed not to have seen you, by the way. I think they’ve gone to the boathouse to look for you.’
Ophelia did an internal fist pump. She’d dodged that bullet for now.
‘Listen, while I’m here.’ Ophelia took a seat close to Francesca. She’d kept this quiet over Christmas and even now wasn’t sure how to broach it, but after Jacinta’s verbal bashing, she wanted this out. ‘I need to ask you about the musical theatre club.’
Francesca blinked, looking taken aback. ‘What about it?’
‘I met someone whose child goes there, and they told me some people had been bullying them. Your name came up.’
‘How dare you,’ Jacinta said. ‘You can’t come in here throwing allegations about like that.’
‘I’m not. I just want to know what’s going on. We have a very well-known family name. I wouldn’t want stories going about. I’d like to at least know what we’re up against.’
‘I’m not a bully.’ Francesca jumped up and balled her fists. ‘Who would say something like that?’
‘I can’t tell you who it was.’
‘Well, it’s just rubbish. Someone trying to get me into trouble. People always do this to me. They think it’s funny and laugh about it. I hate it.’ She looked close to tears and stormed out the door, slamming it on the way out.
Jacinta closed her eyes, her face set. ‘Do you have any idea how many hours it’ll take me to get her out of that now?’ She slowly opened her eyes again.
‘I had to ask. Maybe she’s telling the truth and if that’s the case, then it sounds like someone is bullying her too, but if she’s lying, then she needs to know it’s not ok.’
‘And none of it is any of your concern.’ Jacinta got to her feet. ‘I’m her mother.’
‘We’re a family, Jacinta. Like it or not. This kind of thing affects all of us.’
The door swung open, and Rupert and Anthony walked in.
‘Dear, dear,’ Rupert said. ‘Is there a problem?’
‘The usual one.’ Jacinta nodded in Ophelia’s direction. ‘This time she’s gone too far.’
‘Oh for god’s sake,’ Ophelia muttered. ‘I don’t need to listen to this.’ She stalked out of the room, passing her father and Anthony without a second glance, then climbed the stairs up to her old room. The ladder to the hatch was still down and scuffling noises told her Brann was still working up there. Stupid as it seemed, just standing here with him nearby relaxed her. Her shoulder brushed the ladder, and it clanked. Brann peered over the edge.
‘Oh, it’s you,’ he said.
‘Hi.’
He came down the ladder. ‘Gotta go to the van. I need something from it.’
She swallowed, and a heavy weight filled her chest. ‘I need to thank you.’
‘What for?’
‘Sticking up for me to Jacinta.’
He stared at her for a long, hard moment. His face, which had been so neutral earlier, now looked pained and unsure.
‘It was the only thing to do,’ he said. ‘She was out of line.’
‘It took guts though. Most people would just let her rattle on and not try to stop her. She could have sacked you.’
‘She still could.’
‘I know. That’s why I’m grateful, even though I’m not sure why you did it, when you could just have ignored it.’
He slipped his finger under her chin, gently stroking her. ‘Because I love you.’
Ophelia’s eyes almost popped from her head, but before she could make any sense of the words, Brann strode past her, and she heard his heavy footfalls on the stairs.
He loves me?
What in the name of god?
Brann loved her. Shit. Shit. Shit. This was not good… Really. Because she loved him too. When it had been harmless flirting, it was pretty bad. When they kissed, it was stupid. When they slept together, they’d reached dangerous territory… But love?
Oh god. She wanted to sit down and cry. It had always been love. In her heart she knew it, but to hear it so bluntly was something else. Her head was buzzing. So was her phone. She pulled it out and saw her father was calling her. She snuck into her old room to take it.
‘Yes?’
‘Can you please come downstairs and talk to us? Jacinta is very upset. And all this in front of Anthony too. Very embarrassing.’
‘No. I don’t want to discuss that now. We need to talk about Dagmar Ingenfeld. We can’t let her go. We’ll never get a good enough replacement.’
‘There’s no choice. We’re practically bankrupt. Speaking of which, you’ll have to tell the builder to leave. There’s no money to pay him and Jacinta says he was rude to her earlier.’
‘What? He wasn’t rude to her. She was rude about me, and he stuck up for me. That’s why she’s annoyed.’
‘Well, whatever happened doesn’t matter, but I can’t keep him on if he’s upsetting the family like this.’
Ophelia sank onto the bed. This had to be a bad joke, didn’t it?
‘I can’t tell him that. Do it yourself or get Barbara to do it.’
‘I’m afraid that’s not possible either. I had to let Barbara go too.’
‘You what?’ Ophelia flung herself back and lay sprawled on her old bed. If she closed her eyes and opened them again, could she wake up elsewhere or discover this had all been a nightmare?
Except that wasn’t going to happen. This was her reality, and there was no escaping it.