Chapter 3
S eeing her mum standing there peering in at her had rendered Scarlett speechless. Loss of words seemed to be becoming a regular occurrence.
She’d refused to think about her strained relationship with her mother at any point during the drive up, not ready to unlock that part of her brain or heart. There was enough for her to be dealing with, such as the fact she’d started crying on the phone to her new employer.
Shitting fuck.
Scarlett had groaned loudly in frustration after she’d hung up on Edward the previous night.
Great fucking start.
But she had to push it aside. All of it. Especially the brazen fact her husband was a cheating rat. The man she thought she was spending the rest of her life with, who she’d been with since she herself was the same age as Angelica.
Thoughts and feelings were running wild in her mind, but words felt too difficult to grasp.
Thankfully, her mother wasn’t suffering from the same affliction.
“Scarlett,” her mother said, smiling as Scarlett lowered the window. “You found us then.”
“Hi, Mum.” Scarlett forced a smile in return.
“Shall I jump in and show you where to park?”
“Yes, of course– please get in.”
June opened the door and sat down, bringing the smell of the outdoors with her. They didn’t hug; they rarely did. And if June felt any awkwardness, she was hiding it well. Instead, she fiddled around, trying to pull her seatbelt on.
Scarlett hadn’t seen her mother in a few years, and while she knew June was approaching her fifty-third birthday, Scarlett couldn’t believe how her mother didn’t seem to have aged a single year.
Over the years, various friends had commented on Scarlett in the same way, but she never paid much attention to it.
But her mother’s youthfulness always irritated her, though she could never pinpoint the reason.
Scarlett pushed the thought away– analysing her relationship with her mother had never been an appealing idea, and she didn’t intend to start now.
“Lovely stuff.” June smiled again and finally clipped herself in. “Just head around the left of the building and you’ll spot the courtyard and stables. You can park behind there.”
Scarlett stopped herself from wincing at the thought of the stables. Hay fever and allergies had plagued her since she was a child, but it clearly wasn’t something June remembered. Not saying anything about it, she followed her mother’s instructions.
Scarlett glanced at the back of the house and rear gardens, which were as impressive as the front. The property sat on an incline and beyond the woodland on each side of the lawn, she could see a lake shimmering in the distance.
“You’re lucky. The sun is out today,” June said, following Scarlett’s gaze.
“It’s been miserable and grey until a couple of weeks ago, although it’s still pretty stunning even then.
But the autumn sun makes it all come alive somehow.
” June sighed, content. Happy, even. “I’m very lucky to work here. ”
Scarlett nodded, turning her attention back to the approaching courtyard and stables, following a tight lane to the left, where she pulled into a parking space next to a small Ford Fiesta.
“I’ve still got her. She must be approaching twenty-two years now.” June smiled again, this time her affections aimed at the car.
“Still running okay then?” Scarlett asked, not sure what else to say, and pondering the fact that even the car was older than Angelica.
“Oh yes, Andrzej, the head groundsman, my boss– lovely man. He looks after it and keeps it running for me.”
Scarlett raised an eyebrow, but either June didn’t notice or she chose to ignore her daughter’s insinuation.
June continued, barely pausing for breath.
“He’s Polish, not much older than you, difficult family history, but his father worked the grounds for Edward’s father and did so many impressive things all over the estate, which after the war had fallen into complete disrepair.
He immigrated to Britain after the war, and there’s an entire story of how he ended all the way up here.
Lived here until his death. All very sad, but come on, love, let’s get you settled.
You must be shattered.” She finally took a break from her incessant chatter, stepping out of the car to make her way around to the boot to help with the bags, of which there was only one.
“Where are all your things, Scarlett?” June asked, her concern evident.
Scarlett cringed. “This is all I have.”
“What do you mean?” June walked back around to peer in at Scarlett, who felt herself squirm.
Her mother’s long dark hair framed her face, and her brown eyes, the same shade, were squinting at her. The women looked so different from each other. Always so different.
“The case, my phone, what I’m wearing… it’s all I have.” Scarlett couldn’t hold her mother’s gaze.
“He didn’t even let you pack all your bags?” June’s tone was clipped, hinting at anger, which was unusual for her mother.
“It’s not that. It was just all very heated. Angelica was there, his mum was there…”
“Oh. I see,” was all June responded with.
Scarlett had obviously given her mother a quick summary of the main events, but she had failed to mention the debacle of her ill-thought-out exit plan, which comprised leaving with a small case and her handbag and nothing more.
Although to Scarlett’s credit, she’d executed that part perfectly.
“Did he at least give you money?” June scowled.
“I have some cash, my cards, and Apple Wallet.”
“Apple what?”
“I have some of my cards on my phone. We’ll sort that side of things out. I wasn’t thinking; I just needed to get out. I couldn’t stay. I didn’t know what to do– I still don’t know what I’m doing, to be honest.”
The two women stared at each other for a long moment until June relaxed.
“Right, we are where we are. You have a home, you have food, you have work– we’ve seen to that– and, well, you have me.”
The last part of that sentence felt odd, but there was an element of warmth that neither instantly rebuked, which could only be a good sign.
“Come on, let’s get you upstairs. I’ve made some soup and sandwiches, and then you can have a bath.
I’ve got some pyjamas if you haven’t brought any with you.
” June paused for a moment, as though fully processing her daughter’s predicament.
“We can drive into town tomorrow and pick up some more essentials you might need. Plan?”
Scarlett fought back the tears and nodded.
“Right, then, out you come.” June closed the passenger door and waited for Scarlett to join her at the bottom of some stone steps leading up to the apartment above the stables. “I’ve made up the spare room so you can get to bed as soon as you’ve cleaned up and had something to eat,” June said.
Scarlett simply nodded again and followed her mother upstairs.
The whole situation had rendered her incapable of making anything but the most basic decisions, and even those felt overwhelming.
A small part at the back of her mind recognised the oddity of her mother taking charge, especially over anything related to Scarlett, but she was too tired to explore those types of thoughts and quickly shut them down.
As she reached the top of the stairs, she entered through a bright red doorway that led into the apartment.
Scarlett stopped in awe, not expecting the beautiful interior that opened beyond the small threshold.
Two large roof lanterns dominated the high ceiling above her, the expansive blue sky, dotted with small cotton ball clouds, leisurely passing over, which opened the space like a breath of fresh air.
The stark white walls between the five doorways leading off to various rooms housed oversized Gustav Klimt prints, one she recognised from her younger years: Judith and the Head of Holofernes , a sensual depiction of a half-naked woman’s torso that Scarlett remembered cringing over every time she passed the more modest-sized print in her childhood home.
No furniture cluttered the hallway, giving the impression of an art gallery, and Scarlett stood planted to the spot, admiring its simple yet evocative impact.
She didn’t recall her mother being all that interested in the aesthetics of their home. It was always clean and comfortable, but nothing like this.
Scarlett had no training, but over time she had assumed the role of decorating her marital home and the other properties dotted in and around Bath, including the small hotels Jason’s family bought and renovated over the years– something she’d always enjoyed.
She wondered if there was some common ground between her and her mother, after all.
“I’m putting the kettle on. Have a look around and make yourself at home,” June called to Scarlett, who could hear her rustling around in the kitchen.
Scarlett didn’t respond but closed the front door behind her and, noticing the polished herringbone flooring beneath her feet, she kicked off her trainers.
An open doorway piqued her interest, and she wandered over to peer in. It was clearly her mother’s bedroom, which made her feel like she was trespassing. It felt too intimate.
The bed was half made, a dressing gown hung lazily over the top, and some clothes lay folded on a chair.
Scarlett noticed a pair of reading glasses perched precariously on top of a small mound of books on the bedside table, along with the Tiffany-style lamp she remembered her mother having when she was a child.
The familiarity made her stomach contract, so instead she focused on the bare walls painted a delicate pale blue and the two arched floor-to-ceiling windows, with shutters dressed in cream voiles, that overlooked the lawn at the back of the main house, where she could see a path leading towards the woods and loch beyond.
The whole place, the estate, was something straight out of a nineteenth-century novel and she could see how this set-up would appeal to her mother. Scarlett’s two dominant memories of June whilst growing up was her either being at work or engrossed in a book.
Scarlett bristled and moved away, walking past what she could see was a small toilet before pushing open another door to what she assumed was the spare room. It was like her mother’s bedroom, although smaller, with only one arched window, yet it shared the same impressive view.
She walked in and sat on the antique brass bed, drinking in her new surroundings. Her new home .
The realisation of that truth didn’t feel right, so instead she focused on her odd-socked toes sinking into the thick pile of the cream carpet beneath her feet.
Looking around, she noticed the room was sparse, with only a chest of drawers, a wardrobe, and a velvet vintage-style chair by the window, but it didn’t feel cold.
She glanced over at a doorway that led to what she could see was an ensuite, but she’d lost interest in exploring further; the mattress felt so welcoming that Scarlett couldn’t help but lie down on the pillow, which engulfed her heavy head, encouraging her to close her eyes. She didn’t fight it.