Chapter 19
Archer
Teddy was growing bigger by the day. Maggie doted on him when Archer stopped by for his breakfast and dinner. Then the pair of them would wander the grounds together side by side. Archer put off looking for its owner, fearing he would want to punch a person who left a dog to fight for survival. No one ever came to the estate unless invited, so Teddy was safe unless someone approached him in town.
“Archer, there’s been a request made,” Bailey said, entering the kitchen with a stack of post in his hand.
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you use an upbeat tone, but it’s sombre than ever,” Maggie replied.
Bailey looked to the cook and didn’t even smirk. Archer had never seen him smile. The man took his job very seriously.
“Miss Turner had requested you be at home from ten o’clock every night.”
“For how long?” Archer asked.
“Permanently, sir. ”
Archer looked to Maggie, who did not attempt to hide her giggle. He gave her narrowed eyes and then turned to Bailey.
“Did she give a reason?”
“She wants to keep an eye on you. Is there anything you want to tell us?”
“No, no, I don’t think so.”
Archer heard his voice get higher as each word came out of his mouth. These two people were more like family than his aunt and mother ever were. How could his aunt know about Archer and Erica? He’d only kissed her once.
“I’m sure he’ll tell us when he’s good and ready,” Maggie said, wiping his hands in her apron as she approached the kitchen table.
They both knew he was lying and didn’t demand the truth. He’d forgotten that about them.
“It’s a bit complicated. How she will keep tabs on me in a big house is beyond me.”
“The Mistress will cope,” Bailey said.
“I’ll have to return to my other home in Scotland to pack up the rest of my belongings.”
“Your old bedroom in the east wing,” Maggie said. “You can’t get any further from Miss Turner’s room if you tried. I wonder what she’s up to?” Maggie said.
Bailey had sorted the post as he spoke, shuffling them into an order only he knew was correct. One day Bailey and Maggie would retire, and new staff would replace them. Archer put those thoughts out of his head. He needed to focus on the here and now.
Bailey left to deliver the letters to Aunt Cynthia, and Maggie returned to the stove to stir the large pot.
“Maggie, is there still a tide timetable in the study?” Archer asked, getting up from the seat. Teddy jumped up from his bed by the large stove and came to Archer’s side.
“Yes, it’s tacked to the notice board behind your grandfather’s desk. Do you want me to fetch it for you?”
“No need, I’ll go. I haven’t been across to Stuart Island since I’ve been back and don’t want to get caught by the incoming tide.”
“Do you want a picnic?”
“Not today, but I’ll let you know if I need one.”
“Fancy a walk?” Archer spoke down to Teddy. He was rewarded with a yap. Archer hadn’t gotten around to a lead for the dog and hoped he could train the dog without having to put him on a leash. “Come on then. Let’s go and find you a mummy.”
Archer glanced to Maggie, who had her back to him, wishing he hadn’t said the words aloud. Hoping she hadn’t heard, he left the kitchen and went up the stairs to the main foyer. He strode across the floor to the study and turned the round door handle.
It was locked.
“What’s the point of putting a tide timetable in a locked room?” Archer said to the solid wooden door.
Archer turned to the sound of a bunch of keys jingling. Bailey was striding towards him, searching the dozens of keys on a large keyring.
“It had become a habit to keep this room locked since your grandfather passed away. No one comes to the house anymore, but it was his sanctuary when he was home and his father’s private room. Let me open the door, and I’ll get you a key.”
“Thanks, Bailey,” Archer said, stepping aside for the man to open the door .
“Take this key, and I’ll pick up the extra downstairs. Was there anything you were looking for in particular?”
“The tide times. Maggie said a copy was in here on the notice board.”
“It is. You must think me old-fashioned to keep these habits alive for people who have long passed.”
“The opposite, in fact, Bailey. I find comfort in the old ways. It’s how we all grew up. Good reminders of our childhood. We all spent so much time in here when dad was home and with grandad when dad wasn’t home.”
Archer saw Bailey get misty-eyed. “I’ll leave you to it, Sir,” Bailey said, turning on his heel and striding away.
Archer pocketed the key and looked down at Teddy, giving him a stern look. “Best behaviour, okay?”
Teddy yapped.
As soon as Archer walked into the room, Teddy scampered in. The puppy jumped up and kept missing the edge of the battered leather sofa. Teddy gave big eyes to Archer with a soft whine and then back to the couch.
“How about the chair?” Archer asked the dog.
Archer pulled down the old brown blanket thrown over the back to the large armchair in matching battered leather and arranged it on the seat. He then picked up Teddy and placed him on the blanket. After a few twirls, the puppy sat down with his head on his paws, watching Archer move about the room.
“We’re not staying long,” Archer told Teddy over his shoulder, “so don’t get comfy.”
Going straight for the bookcase, Archer picked out one of his childhood story books. The yellowed pages of Roald Dahl’s novel smelled familiar as if he was still sitting on his mother’s lap in the armchair Teddy was lounging. Archer flashed back for a few seconds, feeling his brother moving about in his mum’s belly while she read him a story. It was a couple of days later that Luke came into the world. Snapping the book shut, he placed it back in its place on the shelf and strolled the shelves noting that nothing much had changed in the room since he was last in there six years ago. Then, clearing his throat to rid him of the sadness of attending his grandfather’s funeral less than a year after his father’s funeral, Archer untacked the tide timetable.
An idea formed, and he smiled.
“Come on, Teddy, let’s go,” Archer said.
The puppy jumped down and did a forward roll, unsteady from the drop-down from the armchair. He scampered to Archer’s side and then followed him out of the room. Archer locked up the study and headed back to the kitchen.
“Maggie, can you make a picnic for tomorrow, about eleven?”
“Of course, anything in particular?”
“I’ll leave that up to you. It’s for two people,” Archer added.
Maggie smiled, raised both her eyebrows, and scrubbed a pot in the deep sink under the window.
“I’ll have it ready, Archer. Bailey can get some blankets for you too. Leave it to me,” she said.
Archer strode over and kissed her cheek before walking to the back door. “Thank you, Maggie.”
She waved him away over her shoulder with wet hands.