26. Geoffrey
26
Geoffrey trailed round after Bartie, feeling rather useless in his own home. Bartie had taken charge the moment his developer contact – a very attractive woman named Hannah – had arrived from London that morning.
He’d shown her the first and second floors, outlining the manor house’s better points and skating over the patches of damp that were visible on some walls.
‘We’ve experienced a lot of rain in the county recently,’ he’d told her, even though Devon, like the rest of the country, was basking in a prolonged heatwave. Geoffrey wasn’t sure if he was impressed by Bartie’s chutzpah or disapproved of him lying. Hannah had simply nodded and moved on.
Now, they were scrutinising the ground floor and Geoffrey was looking forward to the whole visit being over.
‘This is the drawing room which, as you can see, is a good size with high ceilings,’ Bartie was saying. ‘The old fireplace could be retained as a feature or I imagine it could be removed, and that wall could be knocked through into the small study next door, if you’re looking for a more open-plan vibe.’
‘Planning permission would be key, naturally,’ said Hannah, adjusting the jacket of her moss-green trouser suit. ‘But I can see that this house has a great deal of potential.’
‘My family used to congregate in this room after Christmas lunch and unwrap presents in front of the fire,’ said Geoffrey, a sharp memory of young River ripping off paper and squealing with delight coming to mind.
‘How sweet,’ said Hannah, pushing her long ash-blonde hair over her shoulder. ‘The Brellasham family stories attached to this building could add to its marketability as a luxury apartment development. People love to think they’re buying a slice of history.’
Geoffrey harrumphed, not sure he wanted his family hawked around as a marketing tool. But Bartie and Hannah were too busy chatting to notice, and he really had little choice.
He needed to sell Brellasham Manor, and at least a sale organised by Bartie would preserve some of what he held dear – his beloved gardens, the unspoiled cove and, if possible, his housekeeper’s cottage. It would give him some comfort to know that the Netherways were still close, keeping watch over what had once been his family home.
‘Are you all right, Geoffrey?’ Bartie popped his head back through the doorway. ‘I’m showing Hannah the front hallway and then she’s keen to have a look at the grounds.’
‘She seems like a very switched-on young woman.’
‘She is, and she’s very good at her job. We’re in safe hands with her, I promise.’
‘Would she definitely preserve the look of the house, from the outside?’
‘Of course.’ Bartie laughed. ‘Not that she’d have much choice. She’d never get planning permission to alter the external fascia of such an impressive-looking and historic building. Even with all my planning contacts, that would never be granted.’
Was that all that would stop her? Geoffrey wondered. ‘And what about the gardens?’ he added. He was asking questions he’d asked before but it seemed important to have them answered again.
Bartie’s smile grew more fixed. ‘As I reassured you earlier, Hannah has no plans or inclination to do anything with the grounds.’
‘So you guarantee that there will be no more building or other development.’
‘Absolutely.’ Bartie walked into the room and patted Geoffrey on the shoulder. ‘I know this is hard for you, sir, but Hannah is very clear that she’s only interested in the house itself.’
‘It’s just that the grounds are large enough for more development, and business-wise?—’
Bartie held up a hand. ‘Let me stop you there, Geoffrey. Hannah sees the grounds and gardens as a marvellous enhancement to the new apartments, which will make them irresistible to city types looking to grab a slice of seaside life.’
‘Only we hold the charity fete every year in the grounds, for the locals in Heaven’s Cove. Can we make sure that can still go ahead?’
Bartie raised his eyebrows. ‘I didn’t think you were that bothered about the event. Is it important to you that it continues?’
Geoffrey had never thought so. In fact, he always dreaded the invasion and complained about it vociferously. But the tradition continuing seemed imperative all of a sudden. His family would be gone from Brellasham Manor but the fete they had accommodated for years would go on. It would be a lasting legacy of sorts.
‘I think so, yes,’ he said.
Bartie gave a reassuring smile. ‘Then I’m sure it can be accommodated. I’ll let Hannah know that hosting the annual fete is a deal-breaker as far as you’re concerned.’
‘Do you think she will put in an offer for the house?’
Bartie winked. ‘I’m pretty sure she will, from the comments she’s made so far. And I know she’ll give us – give you – the best price.’
‘Only River advised getting a few people in, so we can compare their offers.’
‘We could do that, but some developers I’ve come across…’ He paused. ‘Let’s just say that I would take what they say with a pinch of salt. They’ll tell you one thing and do another. But I can vouch for Hannah and her trustworthiness and, being a member of the Brellasham family myself, you know I want only the best for this house and for you. I have so many happy memories here: me and River and Clara.’
Geoffrey nodded. He’d always felt secure in himself, even during the breakdown of his marriage. But right now he felt out of control and unsure of the best way forward. He felt old and, hard though it was to admit, horribly out of his depth. But Bartie’s confidence was reassuring.
‘Talking of River,’ said Bartie, ‘have you seen him this morning?’
‘He came down for breakfast a little late and said he was going for a walk in the sunshine. He’s been gone a while, so I expect he’ll be back soon.’
Bartie started making for the door. ‘In that case, I’d better go and catch Hannah before she comes across him. We all love River but he’s not particularly business-minded, and we don’t want him saying anything to scupper the deal, do we?’
Geoffrey followed Bartie into the hall where Hannah was staring at the Victorian stained-glass window.
‘That was installed by my great-grandfather,’ he told her. ‘You wouldn’t get rid of it, would you, if you end up buying Brellasham Manor?’
Hannah turned her bright white smile on him. ‘Heavens, no. It’s not double-glazed, so ripping it out and replacing it would make more practical sense. However, the planners might object’ – she did a ‘what are they like?’ eye roll – ‘and, anyway, an impressive window with history will add to the manor’s?—’
‘Marketability?’ interrupted Geoffrey.
‘That’s right.’ Hannah smiled at him as if he was a schoolboy who’d just learned his times tables.
Geoffrey sighed and went to sit in his beloved library, while he could.