Chapter 17
SEVENTEEN
The following Friday evening, my train pulled into Corbridge station in darkness, though I could see through the window the quaint stone-built station with white columns and a portico over the platform. It was quiet, except for a few tired-looking commuters coming home from the city, trudging underneath the Christmas garlands strung across the platform roof.
I’d spent the forty-minute train journey wondering what the hell I was doing. Each station stop felt like an opportunity to bail, but every time the doors opened with a hiss, I couldn’t seem to get up from my seat. Instead, the train pulled away and I was driven another step closer to what might be the oddest weekend of my life. I questioned myself over and over again, wondering whether this was worth the fairly flimsy list of conditions I wanted Penn to adhere to. But that little do-good bit of me that had felt sorry for him kept nagging. I couldn’t turn my back on someone clearly having a hard time.
It was odd though. After all the prickliness and bickering, I never would have imagined myself trundling across the North East towards his home – a home where his tweedy, blood-sport-loving family lived. Could I really overlook that, let alone give the impression I was happy to be there? Not to mention convince them I was there with the love of my life? It all felt very precarious.
I heaved my wheelie suitcase onto the platform and looked around for the exit. Penn had said he’d meet me in the car park, and that I should look out for a muddy Land Rover Defender, the make of which came as no surprise. What was a surprise was the excitable black Labrador leaping around in the back – after Penn took my case and I sat in the passenger seat, it poked its head between the headrests and licked my cheek enthusiastically, as though I’d moisturised with pork pie jelly.
‘Sorry about him,’ said Penn, swinging himself into the driver’s seat. ‘Get down, Henno,’ he said. His voice had that gilt edge of plumminess again.
‘It’s fine,’ I said, wiping my cheek with my sleeve. ‘That’s a funny name.’
Penn pulled out of the station onto a country road, dark fields on either side. ‘Hendrix. Henno for short. Beelzebub when he’s being a pain in the arse.’
I remembered how he’d been off searching for the dog at the shoot, and suspected Hendrix might be a pain in the arse a lot of the time. But he seemed nice enough right now, settling comfortably on my suitcase.
‘All okay at the shop?’ Penn asked. He’d left earlier that day at the request of his family, so I’d minded his place for the afternoon. I noticed he wasn’t in his regulation band T-shirt and ripped jeans combo, and had on some smarter jeans and a soft blue shirt, a few buttons undone despite the cold weather. Dark hair smattered his chest. The ensemble was finished off with a navy gilet. If Dr Jekyll had his Mr Hyde, then this was Penn’s alter ego, based on early 2000s Prince William.
‘Fine,’ I replied.
I’d told everyone that I was going to a trade convention to look at new lines for the shop. Nobody had batted an eyelid. Between them, Olivia and Sven had agreed to cover both mine and Penn’s shops for the busy Saturday. Olivia had been with me long enough to know the ropes, and Sven was, of course, a seasoned shop owner. The place was in safe hands.
‘So, what’s the itinerary?’ I asked. ‘I assume tonight’s mainly eating roast swan, followed by brandies and billiards.’
He shook his head, a smile twitching the corner of his lips. ‘When are you going to give up on the piss-taking?’
‘I can’t help it. It comes out of me like a fountain.’
‘Well, try, please. You’re meant to be undercover, remember?’
‘Of course. I will try. I’ve watched Downton Abbey on repeat all week, and I’m going to base my persona on the Dowager Countess.’
‘Maggie Smith?’ He glanced over, frowning.
‘Joking. No, really. I’m just going to be myself but more refined.’
Even as I said it, a ripple of apprehension ran down my back. I still had no idea how to present myself. I suddenly thought it mightn’t have been a bad idea to read an etiquette book or pay better attention to how the Crawley family behaved.
‘Listen,’ Penn said, ‘you don’t have to “posh it up” at all. They’re not expecting anything – they know I met you in Newcastle, not at some debutante ball. Just be yourself, but with less taking the mick.’
‘Will do. But seriously, what’s on the timetable?’
‘Dinner tonight with the family, and then the rest is a mystery even to me, except for the ball. I’m not always in the inner circle.’
‘Right.’ How to read into this I didn’t know. Was the double-sided Penn some kind of black sheep of the family?
We eventually arrived at the opening to a driveway flanked by curved stone walls, and I could just make out a sign saying ‘Ashcliffe Hall’ in the moonlight. Penn turned in, and we rumbled down a long, gravelled driveway, through dense trees, then emerged onto a vast courtyard. In front of me was the biggest house I’d ever seen, and I mean huge . It was three times as wide as it was tall and had a large wooden door in the centre, framed by a lamplit porch. It looked like a hotel.
‘Holy shit…’ I breathed.
Penn sat awkwardly beside me, saying nothing. To be fair, there wasn’t much he could say. The house spoke for itself – this was wealth like I’d never encountered before.
‘Come on then,’ he said at last. He stared through the windscreen gloomily. ‘Come and meet the family.’
We got out, Hendrix skittering on the tiny driveway stones, and I felt a flash of terror. The door loomed like a portal to another world. But now I was here, and Penn was walking towards it with my suitcase, I didn’t have a choice but to cross to the other side.
I sat in a large, tastefully decorated bedroom, drumming the fingers of one hand on the arm of an antique wingback chair and chewing a nail on the other. Hanging on the front of the wardrobe were two dresses. I’d told the same lie to my parents about the convention and added that there would be a fancy drinks event on the evening, one that was a bit classier than a stumble down the Quayside in Newcastle. Thanks to my cousin Kelly, who bought a lot of stuff from Vinted, I’d been furnished with a selection of outfits ‘to suit every occasion’. But now, I wasn’t sure what kind of occasion dinner with the family counted as.
The massive hallway had been deserted when we walked in. No family members, not even a liveried footman to greet us, as I’d foolishly imagined from my most recent Downton binge, and Penn told me that they would all be up in their rooms dressing for dinner. But when he’d delivered me to the guest room, he’d neglected to tell me what the dress code was.
I looked around at the sage damask curtains, the crisp white bed linen with a heavy, expensive-looking quilt folded at the end, the lacquered antique wardrobe and chest of drawers. Whatever the dress code was, it had to be quite fancy. I’d shortlisted a black velvet number that finished above the knee and was rather figure-hugging, and a slightly more forgiving teal midi dress with sheer sleeves and a deep, wide V-neck that skimmed the shoulders. I ceased the nervous tapping of my foot and pulled the teal dress on. I bundled my hair up into a loose chignon and finished the look with some knock-off designer jewellery that Kelly had bought from a street vendor in Magaluf. The necklace had a pendant of cubic zirconia on it that could have rivalled the Koh-i-Noor diamond if it weren’t for the slightly visible bubbles of glue around the setting. I slashed on some lipstick, popped an Accessorize clutch under my arm and headed for the stairs.
As I descended into the empty entrance hall, I had a chance to take in my surroundings. The double staircase curved around each side of the hall, and in between stood an enormous Christmas tree, tastefully decorated with warm white lights. It was laden with red bows and antique festive figurines, interspersed with bunches of cinnamon sticks, and the heady scent of them provoked a wave of seasonal nostalgia. It made me think of Christmases at home, and my throat grew thick at the thought of those red-topped bills. What if they can’t be paid? Could this Christmas be the last one in my childhood home? I shook my head, forcing myself to focus on the here and now. It wouldn’t come to that. It couldn’t.
I could hear the sound of soft music and muted conversation and headed towards it. There was warm light emanating from a doorway, and I rounded it to find Penn and his family lounging on armchairs and sofas. All wearing clothes that you might see in a country casuals catalogue.
I froze in the doorway, a rigid smile on my face. A man I recognised from the shoot as Penn’s father was wearing chinos and a white shirt, an older woman who was likely his mother wore navy slacks and a sweater, and Penn himself hadn’t got changed at all, other than taking off his gilet. They all stared at me for a moment then snapped their mouths shut, clearly mustering their manners. Penn jumped up and came over to me, taking me gently by the arm to bring me into the room.
‘Hiii,’ I said to the assembled group as I sat down on a sofa in a puff of skirts. In addition to Penn’s mam and dad, there was a man slightly older than Penn, who looked similar enough to him that I guessed he was his brother. He also wore smart jeans, and had on a pink shirt, the sleeves rolled up to the elbow.
‘Welcome to Ashcliffe,’ said Penn’s father, extending a hand, which I shook limply. He was being considerably friendlier and was less red in the face than he had been on our last encounter. He didn’t seem to recognise me at all. ‘I’m Hugh, and this here is Bunny.’
‘How do you do?’ said Bunny, Penn’s presumed mother, a brittle smile cracking her mouth. She had a helmet of bouffed blonde hair and wore pearls at her mildly wattled neck.
‘I’m good, thanks,’ I replied, just before remembering that posh people used that phrase to say hello rather than expecting a response about your well-being. My face was starting to grow hot.
‘And I’m Bertie. Perry’s brother – since he’s neglecting to make introductions himself.’
I shook Bertie’s hand too, noting the glitter of a gold watch and a whiff of expensive cologne.
They all looked at Penn expectantly, and he said, ‘This is Annie. My girlfriend,’ he added unnecessarily.
My face flamed as if I was thirteen. In that moment, I’d never regretted something as much in my life as deciding to be there. It surely couldn’t get any more awkward.
Just then there was the clatter of heels down the hall and the honey-blonde woman from the shoot and Penn’s Instagram appeared in the doorway. She took one look at me and a hoot of laughter escaped before she rapidly composed herself. Her mouth twitched in suppressed amusement as she introduced herself as Sophia, simultaneously looking me up and down. She was wearing leggings and an oversized black cashmere jumper, and smelled of fresh winter air.
Penn’s eyes opened in surprise at her arrival, but he recovered quickly. After he said hello to her, he surreptitiously raised his eyebrows at me. Between that and a satisfied look that I caught from Bunny, the reason for Sophia’s presence was clear – she was here to remind Penn of where he was ‘better off’. Well, I was here to give a clear message too. Game on.
‘Annie, darling,’ Sophia said. ‘Perry’s told me all about you; I’m simply dying to get to know you this weekend. Gorge dress by the way. Love it.’ She plucked at the chiffon sleeve and smiled guilelessly.
‘Um, thanks,’ I said.
I was just trying to formulate a further response when a noise emanated from somewhere nearby – it sounded like an old-fashioned school bell.
‘Ah, grub’s up,’ said Hugh, slapping his knees and getting up. ‘It’s a kitchen supper tonight, Annie dear. I hope you don’t mind roughing it with us until the big shebang tomorrow.’
‘Of course not,’ I said, trying for a bright smile.
The assembled party all got up and left the room, giving me the opportunity to grab Penn by the arm.
‘Did you know she was going to be here?’ I hissed, glancing at the door to make sure we were alone.
‘Of course not! I would have warned you.’
‘Just like you filled me in on what to wear? And what the fuck is a “kitchen supper”?’
‘I’m so sorry,’ he said, his face stricken. ‘I didn’t think.’
‘You said everyone was getting dressed for dinner. I thought…’
‘I just meant they were getting changed out of their muddy walking gear. Fuck… I’m an idiot.’
‘Yes. You are,’ I said coldly. ‘So I’m going to be sitting in the kitchen looking like I’m going to my sixth-form prom?’
He winced. ‘Kitchen supper isn’t actually served in the kitchen… It just means a slightly less formal dinner.’
I shook my head, stomping towards the door. ‘Never mind. What even are you people?’
Penn didn’t reply, so I turned and mock graciously gestured to the door. ‘Come on then. This swan isn’t going to eat itself.’
‘It’s spag bol actually,’ he muttered, walking past me.
I rolled my eyes. Great. Not only was I about to face the Spanish Inquisition, I was about to do it with tomato sauce all over my face.
Thankfully, Penn had briefed his family that I was vegetarian and my version of spag bol was made with meat-free mince. It was poles apart from the bolognese I usually concocted from a jar, and was fragrant with fresh herbs and curls of parmesan. There was also an exquisitely dressed salad on the table and an artisan loaf. I delicately wrapped spaghetti around my fork and looked around the dining room. It was painted in deep red and had sumptuous velvet curtains tied back with woven gold ropes with tassels. You could have fit my parents’ entire house into the floor-space.
‘So, Annie, Perry tells us you’re working in his funny little shop,’ said Bunny, nibbling a piece of cucumber from the end of her fork.
‘It’s not my shop,’ Penn interjected. ‘It’s both of ours.’
‘Marvellous,’ she said without enthusiasm. ‘And what is it you’re selling?’
‘Uh. Mainly lifestyle products. Self-care items, that sort of thing.’
Penn gave me a warning stare. Perhaps I should stay clear of the ‘self-care’ angle.
‘How charming. And who are your people?’
I looked at her blankly.
‘Your family, dear.’
I remembered Penn’s instruction to just be myself. ‘Oh! Well, my dad, Keith, is in the building trade, and my mam is a telephone customer services operative. She’s called Denise.’
‘Good salt-of-the-earth people,’ said Hugh bracingly. ‘The world needs people who keep things moving after all.’
Bunny dabbed at the corner of her mouth with a napkin and gave an almost imperceptible shudder.
‘Oh, yes,’ agreed Sophia. ‘I don’t know what I’d do without car mechanics and delivery drivers. Good for you,’ she said, patting my hand.
I wasn’t sure how I was responsible for my parents’ choice of career, but I nodded and smiled anyway.
‘So, did your eyes meet across the shop floor then?’ asked Bertie. ‘Romance blossomed from a staff meeting?’
‘Something like that,’ I said, taking a sip of wine.
‘Oh, Bertie, you are naughty,’ said Sophia with a light laugh. ‘Perry and Angie don’t need grilling about their relationship. Give the girl a moment to get her bearings.’
‘It’s Annie,’ I said.
Penn’s face clouded. The implication that I wasn’t accustomed to this lifestyle was as subtle as the decor in this room.
‘Absolutely,’ Sophia said, wagging her beautiful head from side to side. ‘Silly me.’
‘And are you a musician as well?’ Bunny asked me, handling the word ‘musician’ like it was a rather nasty virus.
Despite all the attention being on me, I felt a flash of indignation for Penn that he’d been patronised more than once during this meal. I remembered what he’d said about not being in the inner circle.
‘I’m not actually. I haven’t the talent, but Penn— sorry, Perry , is just incredible. You must be very proud of him.’
Penn’s eyes opened wider with surprise.
‘Oh, we are, we are,’ said Hugh unconvincingly. ‘Although you’re getting on a bit now, m’boy. Time for the flight of fancy to come to an end, eh?’
Although the words were encouraging, his tone was slightly steely. I was pretty sure the aforementioned flight of fancy wasn’t just referring to the shop, but to me too.
Penn bristled. ‘I’m happy as I am, Pops. You know that.’
‘Quite so.’ Hugh frowned and tucked into his spaghetti with renewed vigour, while Bunny shot him a look. I wondered if he’d been tasked with bringing it up and was now deemed a failure.
‘You have a lovely home,’ I said after a short silence, the only sound a ticking clock in the background. ‘Really spectacular.’
‘Thank you,’ said Bunny. ‘It’s been in Hugh’s family for generations, of course. And the boys will be next to carry the mantle.’
Bertie looked very satisfied at this, while Penn stared at his plate.
‘And then there’s the next generation too,’ said Hugh. ‘Tell me, Bert, will Catherine and the boys make it back from St Moritz in time for the do?’
‘Skiing,’ whispered Sophia to me with a little smile.
‘She wouldn’t miss it for the world. Flying in tomorrow morning.’
‘Splendid,’ said Bunny with the most genuine warmth I’d encountered from her since I’d arrived. ‘I’ve missed my little poppets.’
‘They’re little tyrants really,’ said Bertie in my direction. ‘Although Mummy won’t hear a word said against them.’
‘Barney and Rufus are no such thing,’ countered Bunny. ‘And it’s a grandmother’s right to spoil her grandsons.’
‘Too right, Buns,’ agreed Sophia. ‘And the more grandchildren the merrier, I say.’ She cut a look at Penn, who remained impassive.
‘Oh, indeed,’ said Bunny. ‘I expect we’ll hear the patter of tiny feet again one day.’ Then she smiled generously at Sophia and sipped her drink. Bunny avoided looking at me at all.
The god-awful meal continued for a short while longer, with mostly banal chit-chat and gossip about people I didn’t know. After only one minor wine spillage from me, it was thankfully over.
The family were decamping to the sitting room once again to round off the night when I was hit with a wave of complete exhaustion. It was borne from a week of fretting about this assignment, several bad nights’ sleep and the draining kitchen-supper experience. I caught Penn’s arm and let him know I wanted to cry off.
‘Time off for good behaviour, like we agreed,’ I whispered as we hovered outside the sitting-room door.
He nodded, since I had him bang to rights on our contract, then we popped our heads into the room where Sophia and Bunny were sitting close together, whispering to each other, and Bertie was flicking through Horse and Hound magazine.
‘Annie’s going to have an early night,’ Penn announced.
‘I’m bushed,’ I said. ‘Long day, and the travelling. You know.’
Although we were all well aware of the mere forty-minute train ride I’d endured, they all politely said goodnight. Penn offered to take me to my room, but I demurred.
We stood there in the doorway, the family now looking at us expectantly, and then Penn put his hand at the back of my head and kissed the top of it. As his lips touched me, I felt a jolt in my stomach that wasn’t just nerves. What the hell?
‘Goodnight, beautiful,’ he said, and I looked up at him. For a moment, I almost believed him but then shook it off. He was acting his socks off, and the flicker I’d felt was only because of the sterling job he was doing. I needed to play my part too.
‘Night, babe,’ I said and gave him a brisk hug. Then I left and stood just outside the door for a second to compose myself. This was all so weird.
The last I heard was Sophia saying to Penn, ‘Come and sit by me, trouble. Tell me more about lovely Amy.’
I was headed for the stairs when Hugh emerged from a side room, whisky glass in hand.
‘Ah, off to Bedfordshire already?’
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I hope nobody minds – I don’t want to be a party pooper.’
‘Not at all, m’girl. All the better rested for tomorrow night.’ He tapped the side of his nose and winked. ‘I just hope we haven’t worn you out.’
‘Oh, no! It’s just been a long day. You’ve all been wonderful,’ I lied.
He smiled ruefully. ‘Now, now. I know we’re a bit of a handful. Like a swarm of Labradors around a bowl of kibble when there’s a new person to get to know.’
I smiled, although when I thought of Sophia and Bunny, a pack of wolves came to mind. However, judging by his friendly attitude right now, I wondered if Hugh was warming to me after all.
‘I’m glad you’re here,’ he continued in an avuncular tone, but then his expression turned more serious, his eyes becoming flinty. ‘It gives me the chance to speak to you properly. Maybe you can knock some sense into Peregrine about this lifestyle of his. He’s always been… difficult, and his mother and I have tried and tried to set him on the right path. But while he turns a deaf ear to us, he might listen to you. I’m sure you understand, he won’t stay in the city forever – his place is here.’
He gave me a meaningful look that made it very clear that Penn should – and would – leave me behind when that time came, and I should disabuse myself of any notion that I would be welcome to follow ‘It’s all very well carousing around the city when you’re a young buck, but he’s almost thirty now. Time’s a’ ticking.’ He tapped at his heirloom watch.
Just then, Sophia’s tinkling laugh carried down the hallway, and mine and Hugh’s eyes locked. Time was a’ ticking indeed, almost as loudly as their preferred daughter-in-law’s biological clock and the cultured offspring that Penn and Sophia would produce.
I set my jaw. I might have been there under false pretences, but I still felt the sting of rejection. ‘Uh-huh. I hear what you’re saying. I’ll… bear all that in mind.’
‘That’s a girl,’ he said, suddenly brightening, the jovial host once more ‘We’ll all be up bright and early for a spot of wild swimming in the lake before breakfast.’
‘In December?’ I yelped. ‘I’ll have to sit that out, I’m afraid. I haven’t brought my cossie.’ Thank God.
‘Nonsense. I’m sure Sophia can get you rigged out, and we’ve some spare wetsuits in the boathouse. It’s a family tradition.’
‘Right. Well, I’ll look forward to it,’ I murmured. ‘Night then.’
He gave me a cheerful salute, and I trudged up the stairs, wondering how many of their Egyptian cotton bedsheets I would need to tie together to abseil out of my bedroom window and make my escape.