Chapter 13
Ethan did a splendid job of the official opening ceremony. He made a fine speech about the importance of art, and how marvellous it was to see an overlooked female artist in the limelight thanks to her distant relatives. He talked about Josiah Lavender’s excellence, and how it was clear talent ran in his family, what with Arabella herself and then Ross (Ross shuffled awkwardly at this point and stared at the ground while Clemmie and Miss Lavender fairly beamed with pride), and how gratifying it was to see this wonderful new venture. He added that he hoped the academy would introduce art and the joy of creating it to many more people in the years to come, and how thrilled he was to be able to contribute in some small way to something he firmly believed could enrich and even change lives.
He then declared The Arabella Lavender Art Academy officially open and cut the ribbon to cheers from the waiting crowd, as the camera flashed and the reporter hurried forward to get some quotes.
The doors at the front of the house were pushed open and people invited to enter and partake in refreshments.
‘Thank the lord that’s done,’ someone muttered as they brushed past Bethany on their way into the house. ‘Been standing out there for bloody ages. There’d best be champagne on offer, or I’ll be fuming.’
Bethany had lost Clemmie somewhere in the crowd and couldn’t even see Miss Lavender, but she decided it was best to just go with the flow. They were bound to be somewhere inside.
As she made her way up the path a voice in her ear made her jump.
‘I wasn’t expecting to see you here.’
She turned, and for some reason her stomach flipped as she saw Clive beside her.
‘I wasn’t expecting to see you here either,’ she said, wondering why she felt so nervous speaking to him. ‘I thought you’d have work to do at the stables.’
She realised immediately, from his narrowed eyes, that he’d taken that as a criticism.
‘I’ve caught up with everything I needed to do,’ he assured her. ‘And I’ll be going back after I’ve finished here. It’s just, I didn’t come to the other events here, and I felt I owed the Lavenders at least one visit.’
‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…’
The tide of people jostled Bethany and carried her further away from Clive, rendering her unable to finish her sentence. She looked back and saw he was now engaged in conversation with Ben. Oh well, if he wanted to take everything she said personally that was his problem. Right?
The guests filed into the powder blue hallway of Monk’s Folly and were gently ushered into the dining room where a long table, dressed in a snowy white tablecloth and groaning with delicious looking food, was standing beneath the window. There was a multitude of chairs placed around the edges of the room, ensuring guests who didn’t wish to or were unable to stand could sit down and eat in comfort.
There was already a queue for the buffet, but Bethany’s stomach was rumbling and she had no hesitation in joining it. She’d worry about finding a chair later.
‘You got here then.’ There was a smile in the statement and Bethany smiled back as Jonah joined the queue just behind her.
‘I did. And looking at the food on offer I’m glad I made it.’
‘Aye, looks good,’ he agreed. ‘Miss Lavender never skimps on these dos, I’ll give her that. Kat said to ask you if you’d like to sit with us,’ he added, nodding over at the far wall where a dark-haired woman was sitting chatting with two young children. ‘She’s saved you a chair just in case.’
‘Oh, that’s really kind of her,’ Bethany said, touched. ‘Thank you. I’d be glad to.’
It would, she thought, be much better than standing around like a spare part, wondering who everyone was and trying to dodge small talk, or even worse, questions. There would be inevitable interest as people realised she was Joseph’s long-lost sister. She hadn’t been back in this town long, but long enough to have already realised that people had thought a lot of him. She’d interpreted several looks that, although hurriedly masked with smiles, had revealed that some people in Tuppenny Bridge thought she should have done more to be with her brother before he died.
If sitting with Kat and Jonah would protect her from some of those people she thought it could only be a good thing. Ten minutes later, plate piled high with various yummy food items, lovingly prepared by Jennifer and another member of the kitchen staff, Bethany headed over to sit with the Brewster/Pennyfeather clan.
She carried with her a small plate of food for Tommy, who was Jonah’s seven-year-old son. Jonah, who wasn’t far behind her, had filled plates for him and Kat, and assured her that fifteen-month-old Hattie would happily share theirs and didn’t need her own plate.
Tommy tucked in with relish as soon as he got his hands on the goodies, and Kat sat Hattie on her knee before introducing herself to Bethany.
‘Jonah said you remembered me,’ she said, smiling. ‘I suppose I’ve changed quite a bit since you last saw me though.’
‘You certainly have,’ Bethany said. ‘Last time I saw you I think you had long plaits, and you were covered in mud and carrying a jam jar and a fishing net.’
‘Oh yes?’ Jonah gave Kat an enquiring glance and she laughed.
‘Never caught anything other than a couple of tiddlers,’ she admitted. ‘Still it never stopped me trying. Well, what did you expect when we lived right opposite the river?’
He nudged her fondly. ‘Always were a bit of a tomboy.’
Bethany’s stomach rolled as Rita and Birdie pulled up chairs to join them. Uh-oh. No escape now.
‘I wasn’t,’ Kat said indignantly.
‘Yes, you were,’ her Great Aunt Birdie, resplendent in a shocking pink dress and orange cardigan, nodded. ‘Nothing wrong with that anyway. Came in useful at times. You allus got us a great haul when you went brambling. Remember the pies we used to bake when you brought them to ours?’
‘I do,’ Kat admitted wistfully. ‘I haven’t been brambling in years.’
‘I’d love to go brambling,’ Tommy said eagerly. ‘Can we go brambling tomorrow, Kat?’
‘In April?’ She laughed and shook her head. ‘You’ll have to wait a few months, I’m afraid, Tommy.’
‘Well, when the brambles are out will you take me? And then Auntie Rita and Auntie Birdie can make me a pie, can’t you?’ He turned pleading eyes on the Pennyfeather sisters, who visibly crumbled in the face of such a heartfelt appeal.
‘Of course we can,’ Rita assured him, adjusting the collar on her turquoise blouse. ‘And you can help us bake it, how’s that?’
Tommy looked thrilled, and Bethany swallowed down a lump in her throat. What a happy family they all seemed. So far removed from her own experiences of family life—if she could even call the people in her life family.
Nibbling listlessly on a feta cheese pastry parcel she recalled what things had been like at home when she’d been Tommy’s age. No loving parents, no baby sister, no caring great aunts to bake with.
Her mother, she knew, had loved her to the best of her ability. The trouble was, she was so closed off, so wrapped up in her own misery that she didn’t seem to have the energy to spend time with her young daughter. Her father was often out—thank goodness—and when he was home he was usually in a bad mood, and certainly didn’t waste time making small talk with his children.
There’d only been Joseph, and for a long time she’d been grateful for him. Even after he’d started work at the brewery once owned by their mother’s family, he made sure to spend time with her and look out for her. He taught her how to ride, she recalled, and he’d been patience itself.
He’d also tried his best to be there for their mother and had done all he could to coax her outdoors and make sure she had some fresh air and a bit of fun in her life. Bethany couldn’t remember how many times he’d succeeded, but she suspected it hadn’t been often. Their mother had been determined to wallow in her own misery.
For many years, Bethany had felt sorry for her. Now, though, she wondered if Coral Wilkinson could have done more to help herself. If not for her, then for the two children who desperately needed her.
She’d been like a ghost long before she finally slipped away and left them for good, at the mercy of their father’s rages and epic sulks, his manipulation and gaslighting. His disgusting cruelty.
No, life for Bethany and Joseph had been nothing like it would be for Tommy and Hattie. Looking at their smiling faces now she could only be grateful that these two beautiful children had a better chance of happiness than she’d had.
‘Penny for them?’
Bethany blinked as she realised Rita had asked her a question, and that Birdie was watching her shrewdly.
‘Oh!’ She forced a smile. ‘Just thinking about bramble pie and how long it is since I tasted some.’
‘How are you finding it, being back here in Tuppenny Bridge?’ Birdie asked.
Bethany only just understood the question, since the old lady’s cheeks were bulging with sausage roll when she asked it.
‘Er, it’s a bit strange,’ she admitted. ‘I’m getting used to it, though.’
‘Did you see the changes to our shop?’ Rita asked eagerly. ‘It’s a craft shop now. And there’s?—’
‘It’s not our shop any more,’ Birdie reminded her. ‘It’s Kat’s shop now. A craft shop as well as a wool shop. The upstairs belongs to Daisy, though.’
‘Daisy?’ Bethany wasn’t familiar with that name.
‘Daisy Jackson,’ Kat explained, wiping pastry crumbs from Hattie’s chin with a tissue. ‘She’s originally from Upper Skimmerdale, but she’s moved here and turned my old flat into a craft café.’
‘Oh wow!’ Bethany’s smile was genuine. ‘That’s a great idea.’
‘We’ve not been open long,’ Kat said, sounding delighted at Bethany’s reaction. ‘Even so, it’s doing really well so far, and we’re hoping business will boom in the summer when the tourists come back in bigger numbers.’
‘Is Daisy here?’
‘She is actually. I saw her a few moments ago.’ Kat looked around, scanning the crowd for her business partner. ‘Oh, there she is! She’s talking to Noah and Isobel.’
Birdie screwed up her nose. ‘Poor sod. How did she get stuck with them? Someone rescue her.’
‘Noah’s all right,’ Jonah said indignantly.
Rita laughed. ‘Notice you don’t rush to defend his wife, though.’
Kat and Noah exchanged looks then Kat gave Bethany an apologetic smile. ‘Sorry. We’re not being horrible, honestly. It’s just, Isobel can be a bit…’
‘Of a cow,’ Rita finished helpfully.
‘She’s a cow?’ Tommy asked, his eyes wide.
‘Certainly not!’ Kat hastily offered him a sandwich and shook her head at her great aunts.
‘Isobel’s just a bit prickly,’ Jonah said quietly. ‘Not as sociable as Noah, shall we say?’
‘Although Noah barely mixes with anyone these days,’ Birdie pointed out.
Bethany wondered if people had talked about Joseph in the same way. He was apparently supposed to have become quite the hermit after all. If not for Clive, Miss Lavender had said. She looked around, wondering where Clive was.
‘He’s the headmaster of the primary school,’ Kat said in a stage whisper. ‘Noah, I mean. Isobel runs Petalicious, the florist’s shop on Green Lane.’
‘I know,’ Bethany assured her. ‘I’ve heard all about them from Miss Lavender.’
Rita and Birdie chortled. ‘Of course you have! Fancy you living with Eugenie. Bless you. You deserve a medal.’
‘She’s been very kind to me,’ Bethany said quickly.
‘Oh I’m sure she has. Heart of gold has Eugenie,’ Rita agreed. ‘Just… Bloody hell, imagine living with her! I’ll bet all you’ve heard is Josiah this and Arabella that, Noah this and Ross that… Go on, admit it!’
Bethany hid a smile. It wouldn’t do to give the Pennyfeather sisters ammunition. She remembered that much from all those years ago.
‘How long are you planning on staying here, Bethany?’ Kat asked, as if deciding that Bethany needed rescuing from her great aunts.
‘Honestly, I haven’t decided yet,’ Bethany admitted. ‘There’s a lot to sort out. I had no idea that Whispering Willows was a horse sanctuary. It’s been a bit of a shock finding that out.’
Not to mention the state of the house and stables, she thought ruefully. She dreaded to think how much work needed doing on that bulging stable block. When she’d ignored Ted’s advice to make sure Joseph signed a proper tenancy agreement, insisting she would rather let him live there for free so long as she didn’t have to bother with the place again, she’d not considered for a moment that he would let it fall into such disrepair. Would she have put things on a more formal footing if she had?
Probably not, she admitted to herself. She’d just been happy to put the whole place out of her mind. Ted had suggested a couple of times that she put it up for sale.
‘Maybe Joseph would like first refusal?’ he’d asked hesitantly, aware that she hated hearing her brother’s name. ‘You could at least ask him, via a solicitor’s letter, but if he doesn’t want to buy it, or can’t, well then put it on the market and you’ll never have to think about it again.’
‘I don’t have to think about it now,’ she’d pointed out frostily, ‘except when you bring it up.’
They hadn’t talked about it again.
Why hadn’t she sold it? Sometimes she’d wondered that and had told herself that selling it would mean having contact with Joseph, even if only through a solicitor. Deep down, though, she acknowledged that there was a part of her that didn’t want to evict him or put him through the stress. She didn’t need the money. Let things continue as they were.
Perhaps she’d been unwise. She should at least have sent someone round now and then to check on the place. But it had honestly never occurred to her that Joseph would neglect the house. It had been their mother’s home and he’d loved his mother. And she knew he had a good job at the brewery and a large inheritance from Mother, so hadn’t seen any reason why he couldn’t afford to maintain Whispering Willows, especially as she’d never charged him a penny in rent.
More fool her. He’d obviously cared as little for the family home as he cared for her.
‘Anyone sitting here?’
A couple—probably in their mid-forties—hovered hopefully over them, champagne flutes in hand. Bethany’s eyebrows rose when she saw the man was wearing a dog collar. Was this the vicar who’d given the service at Joseph’s graveside that day she’d arrived in Tuppenny Bridge? She hadn’t seen him close up, but he looked vaguely familiar. He was a kindly looking, rather handsome man, with broad shoulders, tawny-coloured hair, and blue eyes.
The woman was svelte and elegant, with hazel eyes and dark hair. There was something about her that oozed class. Even before she opened her mouth Bethany had guessed that her accent would be nothing like the vicar’s. He spoke in a local dialect, but as the woman thanked Kat and took a seat next to Rita, her cut glass tones confirmed that she came from different stock entirely.
‘Isn’t it splendid?’ she asked, nodding over at Ethan and Cara Rochester, who were still embroiled in a discussion with Miss Lavender and Ross, and Sally and Rafferty who had just joined them. Clemmie, Bethany noted, had escaped, and was now chatting animatedly with a plump dark-haired woman with a silver fringe—perhaps her infamous Aunt Dolly. ‘I can’t believe how different Monk’s Folly looks, can you? And how wonderful to have an art academy on our own doorstep.’
‘Will you be having lessons then, Ava?’ Kat asked.
Ava gave a careless shrug. ‘Hadn’t really thought about it.’
‘You should, love,’ the vicar said. ‘You used to like painting, and it would do you good to take up a hobby.’
‘I’ll consider it,’ she said, before taking a sip of champagne. ‘Goodness, how rude of us! We haven’t even introduced ourselves.’ She leaned forward and beamed at Bethany. ‘Ava Barrington. Although,’ she added ruefully, ‘most people round here just call me the vicar’s wife.’
‘Nothing wrong with that,’ Birdie said. ‘That’s what you are.’
‘Apparently so,’ Ava said with a sigh. ‘It will be on my gravestone, you know. “Here lies The Vicar’s Wife. She made a lot of tea.” I often imagine that years from now people will read that inscription and have no clue who or what I really was.’
‘Well,’ the vicar said, shaking his head in apparent bewilderment, ‘I know who you are, and now so does everyone else here, so perhaps I’d better introduce myself.’
‘Oh, darling, everyone knows who you are,’ she assured him, poking his dog collar. ‘This gives you away every time.’
‘Well, yeah, I’m the vicar,’ he said, ‘but she doesn’t know my name.’
‘Does it matter?’ Ava asked pointedly. ‘Isn’t “the vicar” enough?’
Bethany saw Rita and Birdie exchange knowing looks and thought an intervention was called for.
‘I’m certainly not going to call you the vicar’s wife,’ she assured Ava. ‘You’re a person not an appendage. Pleased to meet you, Ava. I’m Bethany. And you are…?’ She smiled encouragingly at the vicar, who was looking a bit subdued, as if he’d realised he’d somehow offended his wife but wasn’t in the least bit sure how.
‘Zach,’ he said, realising she was speaking to him. ‘Zach Barrington.’
‘The vicar’s wife’s husband,’ Birdie said, and cackled with glee, which somehow broke the tension as Ava started to laugh.
‘I’ve heard so much about you,’ she confided in Bethany. ‘I’ve been dying to meet you at last. How are you finding it, living with Eugenie? Isn’t she a darling? Well, perhaps a bit scary at first, but a darling when you get to know her.’
‘She’s been lovely,’ Bethany agreed. ‘Although, she always was lovely to me, even when I was a little girl.’ She thought about the misunderstanding Miss Lavender had been labouring under about Joseph’s behaviour, and how she’d ignored him all those years, and felt sad for him. At least, she realised with relief, Ava hadn’t commiserated with her over her brother’s death. ‘It’s not too bad staying at Lavender House. Better than staying at Whispering Willows anyway.’
‘I can imagine,’ Ava said sympathetically. ‘I visited Joseph several times over the last few weeks of his life, and I was shocked at the state of that house. I don’t know how Clive stood it there, especially when you think how lovely his own flat is above Stepping Stones. Isn’t Clive wonderful? I don’t know what Joseph would have done without him really, and now here he is helping you out with the horses. What a gentleman.’
She turned and saw Zach sitting disconsolately, his half-empty champagne glass clutched in his hand.
‘Oh, darling, look at your face! How can I possibly resist?’ She planted a kiss on his lips and Bethany was amused to see his eyes immediately light up. Clearly, Ava could wrap Zach around her little finger.
‘Ava’s father was Giles Wilson-Davies,’ Kat said, a hint of mischief in her voice. She fixed Bethany with a challenging look.
Bethany turned to Ava in surprise. ‘Oh, the explorer! How fabulous.’
She was aware of some distinct mumblings of surprise to her other side, and Ava’s face positively radiated joy.
‘Oh, you’ve heard of him!’
‘Of course. He was an amazing personality, wasn’t he? Very lively and jolly. I saw him interviewed on television several times. My ex-husband had his autobiography actually and we both read and enjoyed it. What an incredible life, and how he embraced it!’
Ava seemed lost for words. Her mouth opened and closed several times, and it was Zach’s turn to reach out to her. He took her hand and squeezed it gently, and Bethany noticed that Ava squeezed his fingers in return.
‘He did embrace life,’ she said quietly. ‘He made the most of every second. I was very lucky to have him as a father.’ She dabbed at her eyes then shook her head. ‘Goodness me, how ridiculous to be so emotional after all this time. It’s the champagne, of course. Bluebell would insist I have another glass.’ Her face brightened. ‘Have you met Bluebell Fairfield? She’s my dear friend, and she owns the Cutting it Fine hair salon in Market Place.’
‘No, I haven’t.’ Bethany sensed that Ava wanted to change the subject and was happy to go along with it. ‘Is it a good salon? I’m going to need a trim soon.’
‘Oh, it’s awfully good,’ Ava assured her. ‘Of course, it’s not a top salon, but then it doesn’t charge top salon prices, so there’s that. Ooh, talk of the devil!’
A heavily made-up brunette of around Ava’s age waved a half-empty glass of champagne over her friend’s shoulder as she gazed at them all in obvious excitement.
‘Have you seen the new art teacher?’
Ava shook her head. ‘Eugenie said he’d been delayed. Why, has he arrived?’
‘Has he arrived? O.M.G.’ Bluebell rolled her eyes. ‘I’ll say he has, and all I can add to that is phwoar!’
Birdie’s and Rita’s eyes lit up in anticipation.
‘We haven’t seen him yet either,’ Birdie admitted. ‘Where is he, Bluebell?’
‘Over there, talking to Clive and Ben,’ Bluebell said, waving a hand in their vague direction. ‘You can’t miss him. Think Richard Armitage. Seriously.’
‘Ooh, really?’ Even Kat’s head swivelled at that description, making Jonah give an indignant, ‘Oy!’
Bethany naturally had to look, too. After all, she didn’t want to be impolite, did she? Following the direction of Bluebell’s pointed finger she quickly found the new art teacher, along with Clive and Ben. They seemed to be getting on famously.
‘He’s absolutely scrummy,’ Ava admitted. ‘Sorry, darling.’
‘That’s all right,’ Zach said with good humour. ‘I say the same about Jennifer Aniston.’
‘He does, too,’ Ava confided. ‘Isn’t it awful? Such a cliché.’
‘I have no idea who Richard Armitage is,’ Rita confessed, ‘but if he looks like that I wouldn’t say no.’
‘Honestly, Rita, you’re eighty-two years old,’ Kat remarked.
‘What’s that got to do with anything? Never too old for a bit of eye candy,’ her great aunt told her. ‘If I ever stop looking you might as well have me put down.’
‘What do you think, Bethany?’ Birdie said, giving her an eager look. ‘Nice, eh? His name’s Callum Knight according to Eugenie. Knight in shining armour, eh?’ She winked at Bethany. ‘I think he’s about fifty, so more your age group than ours sadly. Divorced. I’d get in there if I were you.’
‘Hey, I saw him first,’ Bluebell reminded them all.
‘It’s okay, I’m really not on the market for any man,’ Bethany assured her. She turned back to the children, who were completely oblivious to the adult women’s shameless behaviour as they munched on what was left of their buffet food.
Her stomach was fluttering and doing the weirdest things, and she felt peculiarly trembly. If she didn’t know better she’d say she actually fancied that man! But seriously, she hadn’t felt like that since… Oh God, it had been years. Decades. Why now? Why him?
And the worst thing was it wasn’t Callum Knight who’d had that effect on her. Watching that little group of men chatting to each other, she’d barely noticed the new art teacher. No, all her attention had been on Clive. Clive, of all people!
This was all she bloody needed.
‘Hey up, here’s Jennifer with fresh supplies,’ Jonah announced, and Zach sat up straight, looking eager.
‘I see cake,’ he said happily. ‘I hope she’s done a Victoria sandwich. They’re my favourite cakes ever.’
‘I’ll tell Mrs Kensington that,’ Ava said, her eyes twinkling mischievously. ‘She keeps baking you coffee and walnut cakes because you once told her they were your favourite. She’ll be devastated.’
‘Well…’ Zach pulled a face. ‘Okay, let’s just say they’re joint favourites. Anyway, whatever Jennifer’s made, I’m ready for a slice.’
They all watched as Jennifer set a couple of plates on the now half-empty buffet table. She exchanged a few words with one of the guests and laughed.
Kat sighed. ‘Isn’t it wonderful to see her out and about like this? I can’t believe she’s actually got a job after all those years hiding away. I’m so happy for her.’
‘Me too,’ Zach said. ‘So good of Ross to hire her when she’s been unemployed for so long. Many employers wouldn’t, you know.’
Bluebell was craning her neck. ‘Ooh, I think she’s done a chocolate cake too. I’m going to nab myself some of that. Laters, kids!’
She hurried across the room towards the buffet table and Ava shook her head, laughing.
‘What do you think, Bethany?’ she asked. ‘Shall we go over and grab some cake before Bluebell demolishes the whole thing?’
Bethany nodded, but really she wasn’t thinking about cake. Her mind was full of something else entirely. Something that had quite thrown her. Clive had turned away from the conversation with Ben and Callum and, despite trying to look casual as he sipped at his champagne, Bethany could see that his attention was elsewhere. He kept glancing across at Jennifer, and the look in his eyes told her that it wasn’t the cake he was interested in.
Did Clive like Jennifer?
No one had mentioned it, which was unusual in this town, and Clive certainly hadn’t breathed a word. But then, why would he, and to her of all people? He barely knew her.
She swallowed down her disappointment then chastised herself. What did it matter who Clive liked? He was nothing to her.
Even so…
She glanced around but it was obvious no one else had noticed, and since neither Ava nor Kat—nor, most tellingly the Pennyfeather sisters—had mentioned it, she could only assume that no one else had picked up on his feelings. Had Jennifer?
She knew she wasn’t being fair to Clive, but resentment bubbled up inside her as thoughts of Glenn and Ted resurfaced. She’d never been enough for either of them and her old feelings of rejection and being second best attacked her all over again.
This, she reminded herself grimly, was why she didn’t get involved with people. She wasn’t meant to meet anyone special. She wasn’t meant to have a home, a family. She’d been stupid to allow herself to dream, however briefly.
‘Cake?’ Ava repeated, eyeing her curiously.
Bethany forced a smile. ‘Cake,’ she agreed.