Chapter 43
Briony stepped back in surprise when the door opened. ‘Willow? What are you doing here?’ Had Clarissa given her the wrong address?
‘This is Grandpa’s house.’
Briony stared at her. ‘Your … grandpa?’
‘Yes. I’m not allowed to answer the front door, but I saw you from the window. Have you come to see me? I miss you.’ She opened the door wide. ‘Come on.’ She beckoned Briony inside. ‘Let’s play!’
‘Um, yeah … sure.’ Briony tentatively stepped inside. ‘Can I see your grandpa first?’
Willow, who had been skipping down the grand entrance hallway, stopped and whirled around. ‘Why?’
‘There’s something I want to speak to him about.’
‘Grandpa went to the hospital when I told him about the lady.’
‘The lady?’
Willow looked at the floor. ‘I broke the Wolf Girls Club code.’
‘Broke the Wolf Girls Club code? Whatever do you mean?’
Willow’s chin was on her chest, although she did glance at Briony sheepishly. ‘We’re not meant to talk about what we say in the Wolf Girls Club, but I told Grandpa.’
Briony walked down the hallway towards her. ‘Told Grandpa what?’
‘About the lady – your grandma in hospital.’
Briony stared at her for a long moment, realising something. She knelt down in front of her and gently lifted her chin. ‘Don’t be sorry. There’s nothing to be sorry about. You see, if it wasn’t for you, she wouldn’t be getting better.’
Willow said, ‘How come?’
‘She was in hospital, very unwell. Nobody could wake her up. I tried. Luna tried. My mum tried too, I expect. But it was your grandpa. When he visited, he woke her up, and now she’s going to be okay.’
Willow smiled her beautiful little smile, and then quite unexpectedly threw her arms around Briony, saying, ‘I’m so happy.’
Willow drew back. ‘But how did Grandpa wake her up? Did he give her a good shake, like this …’ Willow took Briony by the shoulders and gave a surprisingly rough shake for someone so small.
Briony managed a smile. ‘No, no, nothing like that.’
‘Then how?’
‘Ah, it was so easy. My grandmother loves music. She plays the piano, and taught music too …’ Briony had also tried playing Blythe some music on her phone, thinking the sound of some classical music – she’d also tried jazz, on Reggie’s advice – might bring her round. But it hadn’t.
Willow frowned. ‘But my grandpa doesn’t play an instrument. At least, I don’t think so.’
‘No, it wasn’t that. He woke her up with his beautiful singing voice.’
‘Grandpa sings?’ Willow said in surprise.
Briony nodded, guessing that it was a part of himself he’d kept hidden.
‘I want to speak to your grandpa.’
‘You want to say thank you for helping your grandma.’
Briony bit her lip, and said, ‘Um, yes. Of course.’ She cast her gaze around the expansive hallway and glanced up at the rather grand staircase rising to the first floor. ‘Can you tell me where he is?’
Willow shrugged.
‘I thought your grandpa came home?’ Briony didn’t mention she’d tried to follow him.
‘I don’t know.’
Briony guessed that in a place this size, it was easy to miss someone coming and going.
‘I know! I’ll ask.’ Willow skipped down the hallway. Briony tentatively followed her up the first flight of stairs to a room at the back of the house. The door was open. Willow stepped inside while Briony hung back by the door, out of sight.
Her eyes went wide when she heard Willow say, ‘Troy, where’s Grandpa?’ Briony froze to the spot, wondering why it hadn’t occurred to her that if Frank was Willow’s grandfather, then he was Troy’s too. And that Troy might be there. He had said he lived with his grandfather; he’d obviously brought Willow over to see him.
Briony heard Troy reply, ‘He came back, then said something about the boat, then went out again.’
‘Richard, where’s Frank?’
Richard?Briony mouthed, surprised there was someone else in the room with Troy. She heard an unfamiliar voice reply, ‘He said he had to transport a boat. He’s doing that now. But I don’t know where he’s taking it.’
‘What boat?’ asked Troy.
‘The one he had fixed up. I was surprised they got it repaired so blooming quickly. I’m not sure how they did it. The boat looked in quite a bad state, but then I guess they were remunerated very well to work overtime to get it repaired.’
Briony immediately thought of her grandmother’s missing boat. She stepped to one side, appearing in the doorway just as Troy was rising from his seat behind a rather nice mahogany desk, placed by a window that overlooked the back garden. From where she was standing, she thought she could just make out what appeared to be a boathouse at the end of a beautifully lawned garden leading down to the shoreline. It appeared that Frank’s rather lovely sprawling grounds backed on to an estuary.
Troy had his back to her. As he rose from his seat, Richard saw her standing in the doorway. ‘Oh, I say, who are you? I didn’t know we had a visitor.’
Troy whirled around as soon as Willow said, ‘This is my friend, Briony. I’m in her Wolf Girls Club.’
Richard said, ‘I’m sorry – what club?’
Before Willow could reply, or Troy, who was standing there gaping at Briony, could find his voice, Richard added, ‘We only have visitors to the office by appointment.’
Willow stamped her foot. ‘Richard, Briony does not need an appointment. She’s my friend.’
Troy finally found his voice. ‘What on earth are you doing here?’
Briony looked him up and down and folded her arms. She was just as taken aback to see him as he was her. It wasn’t just his presence, though, that surprised her. He looked different, confident – where he belonged.
He was dressed in formal, smart-casual attire, a blue blazer with a crisp white shirt underneath, and blue chinos. She’d never seen him in anything other than ripped jeans and a t-shirt.
She remembered overhearing Sebastian saying to Troy that he’d never worked a day in his life – not real work, and how she’d assumed he was usually desk-based. Now she fully understood what he’d meant. This was where Troy worked; for his grandfather’s business – for Frank.
Had Troy been working for his grandfather when she’d first met him outside The Beach House? She’d assumed he was there to scope out the job on the outbuilding. But had she got it all wrong? Had he been there about The Beach House, spying for his grandfather?
The penny dropped immediately when she recalled the phone call from the company who’d drawn up the plans for the outbuilding. They didn’t know who Troy was when she’d mentioned who was doing the work – and she expected that if she asked her grandmother, she’d have no clue who he was either.
She stared at him angrily. She had so many questions, but the first question that came out of her mouth was, ‘Why didn’t you tell me that Frank took my grandmother’s boat?’
Richard turned to Troy. ‘You know her?’
Troy’s focus was on Briony. ‘Why didn’t you tell me – about Freddie and … and …?’
Briony saw his gaze drift down to her mid-section. He couldn’t even say the word. She frowned at him. ‘Really – is that all you’ve got to say?’ She looked about her. ‘I guess I’m not the only person with secrets. I know what’s been going on here.’
‘If you do,’ Richard butted in, ‘would you mind telling me, because I’m—’
‘And what do you think is going on here?’ Troy said coolly.
‘I’ll tell you exactly what’s going on,’ Briony said to him, also ignoring Richard, who clearly worked for Troy and his grandfather. ‘You’re a spy.’
Troy stepped forward. He looked at her as though she’d lost the plot. ‘I’m sorry – what did you say?’
‘How could I have been so stupid?’ Briony tapped her forehead. ‘It all makes sense now.’
‘What does?’
‘I met you on the beach and assumed that you were there about my grandmother’s plans for the outbuilding. But you’d never even seen those plans, had you? Not until I showed them to you.’
Troy avoided eye contact.
‘I got a call from the company who drew up the plans and were meant to be doing the work. They’d never even heard of you. You weren’t there to work on the outbuilding. You don’t do the real work …’
She could tell by his expression that he knew what she was talking about.
‘You were spying on my grandmother’s house for your grandfather – for Frank.’
Richard interrupted. ‘What did he promise you, in return?’
Briony’s mouth dropped open. So it wasn’t her imagination. It was true.
Troy turned around and glared at Richard. ‘Do you mind?’ He gestured at the door. ‘This is a private conversation.’
Richard raised his eyebrows. ‘If you’re asking me to leave the room, I will not. Anything that concerns Frank’s business is my business.’
‘Well, that’s the thing,’ Troy replied. ‘It’s personal, although what his obsession with that house is, god only knows.’
‘So, it is true! You were sent there to spy,’ said Briony. She wanted to hear it from him. A confession. An apology, even.
Briony folded her arms, waiting for an explanation.
Troy breathed a sigh. ‘All right, yes. It’s true. That’s how it started. I was never meant to doing any work on the outbuilding. But then I met you, and I wanted to be around you, get to know you, and I didn’t want to leave. You kind of assumed I was there to renovate the outbuilding – and one thing led to another, so that’s what I did.’
‘So, that’s why you haven’t been around the office, these past weeks,’ commented Richard. ‘I knew something was going on.’
‘Why were you dressed like a labourer that day,’ Briony asked, sceptical.
‘I was doing Sam a favour, helping him out on a site because his mate was ill. It was an absolute one-off, that day when I turned up at The Beach House.’
‘Spying on me,’ said Briony.
‘I had no idea you’d be there.’
‘On my grandmother, then.’
Richard turned to Troy. ‘So, that’s where you’ve been. Frank wouldn’t tell me where you were.’
That reminded Briony. She turned to Troy. ‘It’s my grandmother’s – isn’t it? The boat.’
‘Your grandmother’s?’ Richard butted in again.
Briony turned to Richard. ‘Yes, her name is Blythe. She’s someone Troy’s grandfather knew a long time ago. And I believe Frank stole her boat.’ As well as being after her house.
Troy cut in. ‘The boat had been beached for years, probably decades. I reckon it wasn’t repairable, otherwise Peter would have taken it to the boatyard there and then. So he didn’t steal anything, just a heap of firewood – if we’re talking about the same boat, which I doubt we are, actually.’
Richard looked at Troy. ‘You’re wrong. It was Blythe’s boat. And it must have been repairable,’ Richard countered.
‘And now he’s taken it somewhere,’ said Briony, eyeing Richard. ‘What I want to know is – where?’
Richard said, ‘So do I. None of this makes sense,’ he said to himself, shaking his head. He had been thinking about it. ‘Frank wanted to raze The Beach House to the ground, so why did he want to repair her old boat? For sentimental reasons – that’s all I can surmise; because the stupid fool is still in love with her.’
When the room fell silent, Richard, who had been staring out of the window, looked up and realised he’d spoken out loud. ‘Oh,’ he mumbled.
Briony stared at Richard. So he knew Frank had been after The Beach House too, and what his intentions were.
Troy turned to Richard. ‘What are you talking about – razing it to the ground? He just wants to buy the property. He’s offered stupid money for it.’
Briony stamped her foot. ‘So, you knew all along he was after my grandmother’s house – her home!’
‘He didn’t tell you his intentions, though,’ said Richard, still speaking to Troy.
Troy avoided Briony’s angry gaze as he replied, ‘Well, no. I assumed he might want to build something bigger and better in its place.’
‘Not at all.’ Richard shook his head sadly. ‘You see, he had his heart broken by Blythe many, many years ago.’
Troy nodded. ‘So, it is true. I asked him if all this over the property was because of a girl, a woman from his past.’
Richard nodded too. ‘Yes, it’s true … and he never got over it.’
Troy’s gaze shifted to Briony.
Richard added, ‘I knew it was a mistake when he returned to Suffolk. I warned him not to return. Nothing good ever comes from dredging up the past – that’s my take.’
Something horrible suddenly dawned on Briony. ‘I know where he took the boat!’
Willow had been standing by the doorway, quietly listening to the conversation. ‘So do I.’
Everyone turned at the sound of Willow’s voice. Briony had forgotten she’d been standing there the whole time.
Troy said, ‘Where?’
‘Isn’t it obvious?’ said Willow, sounding far older than her years. ‘He’s taken the boat back to where he found it. To The Beach House.’
Richard said, ‘That doesn’t make sense.’
Briony stared at him. ‘I think it does. You see, it turns out Blythe wrote to Frank, but he never got her letters. Her parents hid them, rather than posting them. I found them. And now Frank has them. He knows the truth. She really did love him.’
Briony thought of all those romance novels her grandmother clearly loved lining the bookshelves in her lounge, and felt that all these years later, despite the passage of time, Blythe was still in love with Frank. And he was in love with her. She guessed he was, otherwise why would The Beach House still bother him so?
‘Oh, no,’ said Richard. ‘I bet he’s intending to take the boat out by himself. He hasn’t sailed for years, to my knowledge, the crazy old fool.’
Troy said, ‘We’d better go – right now!’
‘Go where?’ Richard asked.
‘To The Beach House, of course.’
Richard, Troy, and Briony ran down the stairs and out of the door. Troy ran around the side of the garage. A moment later, he reappeared in a car. He drew alongside Briony.
‘This is your car? What happened to the old pick-up?’
‘That was Sam’s. I was borrowing it. Jump in.’
‘No, thanks.’ Briony did not want to ride in his two-seater sports car. Besides, she didn’t want to leave her grandmother’s little car there. She looked up at the house, not intending to return there ever again.
She caught Troy looking at her, disappointed. What did he expect? That everything would be all right now? Well, it wasn’t. Not a bit of it. In fact, it was worse, much worse than she could ever have imagined. But it wasn’t about Troy spying, and lying about who he really was – that wasn’t great, but then Briony had been guilty of not being truthful about her circumstances.
What was worse was what might happen next – Frank had found out, after all these years, that Blythe had really loved him. He might be thinking that he’d caused her stroke, sending all those nasty letters. He obviously wasn’t thinking straight if he really was taking a boat out sailing on his own; especially as, according to Richard, he hadn’t sailed for years. Briony looked up at the sky. Large, dark clouds were gathering. And the wind was picking up. What if he got into trouble all alone out at sea?
‘Bring diving gear!’ Richard shouted at Troy over the noise of the sports car engine. He was glancing up at the sky too. ‘I don’t like the look of the weather coming in.’
‘Diving gear – why?’
‘They used to go out in that boat – him and Blythe, during the summers when she was there on holiday with her parents.’ Richard suddenly tapped his temple. ‘I remember now. The last year he saw her, he called it a summer to remember.’
‘Oh, god. So, you definitely think he’s taken the boat out alone?’ Troy had his phone to hand in a millisecond. ‘Dad – you’ve got to come to The Beach House. Bring diving gear! Yes, that’s what I said.’
Briony raced to her car. She’d left it unlocked. She got straight into the car and discovered Willow in the passenger seat. ‘Oh, Willow. You can’t come. You’ve got to stay here, at the house, in case, um, your grandpa comes back.’ He might do that, thought Briony. He might have just gone to drop the boat off at The Beach House, and return to see Blythe, not do something really stupid and go sailing in it, especially with a storm on the way.
So, why in her heart did she think that was not the case?
Willow didn’t budge.
Whatever happened at The Beach House, and she hoped it wouldn’t be bad, Willow couldn’t come.
Troy pulled up alongside her car and shouted out, ‘Sebastian is on his way, with the gear.’ He caught sight of Willow. ‘Willow – go back in the house.’
‘I’m five. You can’t leave me home alone,’ shouted Willow through the open window.
‘You’re nearly six!’ Troy shouted back.
Briony rolled her eyes.
Troy looked at Richard. ‘Where’s Rachel?’
‘Day off.’ It was Sunday, so Rachel, Frank’s secretary, wasn’t there.
‘Get out of the car, Richard.’
‘No, not a chance. I’ve known your grandpa nearly all my life. He’s my best friend, like a brother to me. I’m coming.’
Troy looked over at Briony.
‘Don’t expect me to stay here either, Troy.’ Briony sighed as she started the engine. ‘I’ll hang back, though, until I know things are … okay.’
Troy closed his eyes momentarily in relief. ‘What can I do to make things up to you?’
Briony rolled her eyes. ‘Are you seriously asking me this right now? We have to get to The Beach House!’
Sitting next to Troy in the car, Richard butted in, ‘For goodness’ sake, Troy, let’s sort out your grandpa’s love life first, shall we?’
Briony followed Troy in his car. She soon lost sight of him as he sped up, leaving her grandmother’s little car with its one-litre engine behind.
‘Won’t it go any faster?’ Willow asked.
‘I’m afraid not.’ Briony thought that perhaps it was just as well. ‘I think we should look in on the kittens first,’ Briony suggested, thinking she could leave Willow in the kitchen with the kittens while she went outside on to the beach.
That was if The Beach House wasn’t a pile of embers.
Briony put her foot down. She knew why that horrible thought had crossed her mind. It was because of what Richard had said, about Frank’s intention to raze The Beach House to the ground. Even so, that was not what Briony thought was going on. Frank had the letters from Blythe. Surely, he wouldn’t do that now.
‘Is Grandpa going to be okay?’ Willow asked.
Briony looked at her, not surprised, after what she’d heard, that she realised something was up.
Briony slapped a reassuring smile on her face. ‘Of course, he is. He’s just delivering my grandmother’s boat – that’s all.’
‘But why is everyone looking so worried?’
‘I’m not looking worried, am I?’ Briony’s fake grin belied her true feelings. For Willow and Troy’s sake – and Blythe’s, not to mention her own for her part in Frank discovering those letters – she was praying that Frank was not doing something really risky and stupid at that moment.