20. Geoffrey
20
Geoffrey didn’t often walk into Heaven’s Cove. The place was heaving with tourists and, even worse, locals trying to elicit any gossip emanating from the manor. Not that there was any – not usually.
His marriage break-up had once been the talk of the village, of course. And his stepmother’s disappearance in the 1950s must have set tongues wagging. But, since then, there had been very little to interest people. Just him and Julie and various other helpers and tradespeople rattling round the manor as it gradually fell into disrepair.
But now, his son had returned and the manor was going to be sold, which was rich fodder for locals like Belinda, who was bearing down on him fast.
Geoffrey cursed his decision to walk into the village before dinner. He was supposed to be sorting out paperwork to support a potential sale. But it had become too depressing after a while, and he’d suddenly craved fresh air and the familiarity of Heaven’s Cove’s jumble of ancient cottages and cobbled streets.
Perhaps what his father had once said to him was true: You don’t appreciate what you have until it’s gone.
Geoffrey had always taken Heaven’s Cove for granted but he’d miss its picturesque beauty and air of permanence – though some of the villagers, maybe not so much.
‘Good afternoon, Belinda,’ he said as she bustled up to him. She was wearing sensible lace-up shoes and a brown corduroy jacket in spite of the heat.
‘Good afternoon, Squire. We haven’t seen you around in the village for a while. How are you?’
‘I’m doing well, thank you. And you?’
‘Can’t complain.’ She pushed grey hair from her eyes. ‘My sister, Freya, and I are on the committee that’s organising next week’s charity fete which I hear is still going ahead in the manor grounds.’
‘That’s right. Let’s hope the heatwave continues and we don’t get any downpours on the day.’
Otherwise, everyone would want to escape the rain by coming into the manor and having a good look round. He knew the fete and open day raised lots of money for charity, but he still hated everyone gawping at his home. Not that it would be his home for much longer. Soon, a bunch of strangers would be living in the manor and he wouldn’t even be able to visit.
‘Are you sure you’re doing well?’ Belinda asked, her face collapsing into a sympathetic pout. ‘You’re facing so many changes – moving out of the manor that’s been home to your family for generations, your estranged son returning but only for such a short while, leaving Heaven’s Cove behind…I assume you will be leaving us behind?’
Geoffrey swallowed at Belinda’s habit of putting people’s problems into such distinct focus and nodded. ‘Yes, I’ll be moving on. It would be…difficult living so close to the manor but not in it.’
‘I believe your young relative Bartie has some business contacts, and the plan is to develop the manor into apartments while leaving the grounds and gardens intact.’
‘That’s right,’ Geoffrey confirmed, marvelling at Belinda’s ability to know everything. Her reputation as the biggest gossip in the village was well earned.
‘Couldn’t you buy one of the apartments and continue to live at Brellasham Manor?’
Geoffrey blinked. He hadn’t even considered staying on, but he knew immediately that this wasn’t the answer. It would be too painful to be faced every day with his failure to save his family’s beautiful home from being lost and ripped apart.
‘It’s a thought,’ said Geoffrey noncommittally.
Belinda waited for more information and, when that wasn’t forthcoming, declared: ‘It must be a great comfort to have your son back with you.’
‘It’s wonderful. Anyway, I must get on. Lots to do. It’s good to see you, Belinda.’
‘You too.’ Belinda grasped hold of his hand. ‘And, if I don’t get the chance before you leave for good, I wish you all the best in your new life.’
Murmuring his thanks, Geoffrey pulled his hand away as gently as he could before walking away.
Belinda meant well, he supposed, but she was wrong about River because it wasn’t a comfort having him back at Brellasham Manor. It was wonderful to see him, of course, but every time Geoffrey looked at his strapping adult son he knew there was something he should tell him that he never could.
The sun was low in the sky and the air was heavy with pollen and the rich perfume of stock, sweet rocket and honeysuckle.
The golden hour was what people called it, mused Geoffrey, shifting on the wooden bench that sat in the middle of his garden. That time just before sunset when everything took on a golden sheen, and anything seemed possible.
He liked to sit here, at this time of day, to appreciate the beauty around him and enjoy the peace. And his daily sojourn into the garden had taken on a new poignancy now that his time here would soon come to an end. He would miss this place, with its memories good and bad, just as he would miss Heaven’s Cove.
All of the villagers he’d met this afternoon had been warm and seemingly genuinely sorry that he was leaving. He should have made an effort to be more involved in the local community while he could. Another opportunity missed.
Geoffrey closed his eyes and had begun to doze in the warmth of early evening when he felt the air shift around him. He opened one eye. Bartie had sat down next to him on the bench.
‘Are you OK, sir?’ he asked.
‘Of course,’ Geoffrey replied, fighting the irritation he felt at being interrupted. Bartie was here to help him and he must remember that.
‘It’s a beautiful garden.’ Geoffrey stayed silent as there was no need to agree with such a patently true observation. ‘I can only imagine how sad you’ll be to leave it.’
‘It will be a dreadful wrench, but I’ll take comfort in the fact that this garden will survive and the new occupants of Brellasham Manor will enjoy it as I have.’
‘Yes, of course.’
A rush of overwhelming anxiety suddenly whooshed through Geoffrey, from his head to his toes. He couldn’t breathe. This was too much emotion for him to cope with. It made him feel sick, as though he might be dying.
He turned on the bench to face Bartie and tried to keep any panic from his voice as he sought reassurance.
‘Selling this place is the right thing to do, isn’t it? I keep thinking I’m making a dreadful mistake, that I’m missing an obvious way to maintain the status quo.’
Bartie put his head on one side, as though he was seeing Geoffrey in a whole new light, and sucked air between his teeth.
‘I think we have to face hard facts here, Geoffrey. You’ve lost a lot of money on business deals that didn’t pan out, and the costs associated with securing financial loans would be prohibitive. They also wouldn’t solve the issue of how this house continues to thrive as you grow older and – forgive me for being blunt – become less able to cope, with no son around to provide support.’
He smiled. ‘But, looking on the bright side, you’ll have enough money from the sale to fund a very comfortable life for yourself elsewhere. Perhaps you could consider emigrating to Australia so you’re closer to River.’
Geoffrey couldn’t imagine moving to the other side of the world at his age, and River wouldn’t want him closer anyway. But he nodded, even though he knew that he would end up living alone in a part of England he didn’t know, surrounded by people who were strangers.
‘Hannah, my developer contact, will be here the day after tomorrow,’ Bartie continued, ‘and I have high hopes that she’ll see the potential in this place and will make us a great offer.’ He patted the older man’s hand. ‘It really is for the best, Geoffrey. You’re doing the right thing.’
‘Yes, of course I am.’
Geoffrey breathed deeply in and out, relieved that the surge of anxiety was lessening. He only hoped that Bartie hadn’t realised how panicky he’d felt, as if everything in his life had turned on its head and nothing made any sense. How his father would have berated him for displaying such weakness.
‘That’s all OK then.’ Bartie got to his feet. ‘I’d better go and check that everything’s in order for Hannah’s visit.’
‘Thank you so much for all of your hard work on this, Bartie. It’s good of you to go to so much trouble. I won’t forget it.’
Bartie smiled. ‘You’re welcome, Geoffrey. I have such fond memories of my time here and I love being a part of the Brellasham family. You’ve been so good to me. I’ve almost felt like a surrogate son since River disappeared from your life.’
Had he? Geoffrey tried to hide his surprise. He’d hardly seen Bartie over the last few years, but he felt warmed by his words. He’d got so much wrong with River, but perhaps he had done something right with Bartie.