Chapter 4
CHAPTER 4
LUKE
M y first view of Granthaven Manor and the village as a whole is from the air. Rather than face the horrific road journey that would take several hours, Jasper hired a helicopter to fly us here from Manchester. The film crew are taking the arduous road journey and subsequently we arrive way before them.
“Wow, Luke, this place is amazing!” Morgana cries out, as we glimpse at the beautiful landscape and quaint stone cottages with thatched roofs.
“I’m so excited!” She squeals, the noise echoing inside my headset and I run my finger around it, edging it away from my ear drum.
I know she’s excited. This is the gift she’s been waiting for. A reality TV show and endless photo opportunities. She is champing at the bit, ready to take the internet by storm, and I smile when I note her outfit, chosen especially for the occasion.
She is wearing suede black leggings with a white silk shirt, over which is an aviator jacket with a Burberry scarf tied around her neck. Her long blonde hair is curled and styled to perfection and she is wearing a fur bandana around her head. Her bright red painted lips are stretched in a blazing smile and her porcelain veneers sparkle against the sunlight. She is clutching her Chanel bag, her Cartier watch gleaming on her wrist, her feet encased in UGG boots.
Morgana is and always will be a designer’s dream.
She is laden with exquisite jewellery and has taken many selfies and photos of us both in the helicopter that she has subsequently edited on the flight and posted to her Instagram story. She has also filmed various parts of the journey as she shares our move to the back of beyond.
I peer with interest at Granthaven Manor as we circle overhead and note the proud stone walls and the extensive grounds surrounding it. “It’s huge!” Morgana squeals and grips my arm with excitement and Steven turns from his seat in front and rolls his eyes. It makes me chuckle softly as she snaps more photographs and then says loudly, “When we land, I need a few shots with Luke as we exit the helicopter. Jasper–” She turns to the producer. “Is the photographer waiting?”
“Only a local one, I’m afraid, but his work checks out and he has assured me of his professionalism.”
“Good.”
Morgana nods as if satisfied, and as the helicopter touches down, she turns to me and smiles. “This is it, Luke. We have arrived.”
“So it would seem.”
Despite how much I hate all of this, I don’t hate her and note she’s like a kid on Christmas day as she falls into her element. I’ve learned to let her work while I observe and merely pose for the shots she needs when asked to ensure a harmonious environment.
Personally, if I had my way, I would never pose for another photograph in my life. This is what I hate about my profession. The endless press calls and photos. Sponsor commitments, modelling the latest fashion item or the latest brand of aftershave. Expensive cars, watches and exotic holidays all come with the job, as well as the newly built mansion in Cheshire, equipped with a gym and cinema room as standard, not to mention the indoor and outdoor pools.
This life is generous, but it wants its pound of flesh and as Morgana said, we have been gifted an opportunity, but I’m guessing mine is completely different to hers.
It gives me breathing space. A well-earned rest if you like, and I could certainly do without this inheritance right now. From what I know of the property, it comes with a load of baggage that I am ill-equipped to bear and yet I’ll have to step up because it’s mine to keep going for one more year.
I will definitely sell. Why wouldn’t I? The agents have valued the entire estate at over thirty million pounds. It is more money than I ever dreamed of, even though I earn a hefty three million pounds in salary and a further three million from sponsorship deals and my share portfolio.
Thirty million though is life-changing and I would never have to kick a ball again. Then again, I no longer do it for the money, anyway. I do it because it defines me. Without football I have no purpose in life and it has been a part of me for so long now, I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t kicking a ball toward a net.
“Luke, darling, we need you.”
Morgana’s shrill voice permeates my nostalgia, and I turn and fix an indulgent smile on my face as I drop my arm around her shoulders, making sure to gaze into her eyes like a besotted fool.
“Perfect.” The photographer says with a broad smile and nods toward the place I must now call home.
“What about one outside the front door as you prepare to go inside?”
Jasper nods enthusiastically. “Super, although we will re-shoot the scene when the film crew arrive but it’s important to mark the occasion.”
I stare up at the solid oak door and note the scratches and grooves of a life well spent. It’s as if every line has a story to tell, and I can sense the history of the place as I gaze at it in awe.
Morgana slips her hand on my arm and says softly, “Don’t worry, Luke. I’ll appoint an interior designer asap. We’ll drag this crumbling ruin into the modern age if it kills me.”
She has a wistful expression on her face as she whispers, “I’m thinking modern traditional. A beautiful solid oak door with a huge brass knocker and definitely a wreath attached. Two huge bay trees will stand in pots on either side and a portico – yes, that would work.”
She shakes herself out of her dream and smiles. “Leave it with me, honey. I’m a whizz at interior design.”
I smile for the camera but resist rolling my eyes because Morgana obviously believes replacing like for like is a good use of my money. I prefer the door etched in secrets and mystery over a fabricated lookalike one with no history whatsoever.
Once again, my thoughts turn to my aunt and I am sad I never visited her here when she was alive.
It’s taken her death to force me to visit, and I don’t like how that makes me feel.
We head inside and a woman stands watching us with a wry smile.
“Welcome to Granthaven Manor, Mr Adams, Miss, um–”
“Morgana.” She smiles brightly. “Just the one name. That’s all I need.”
The woman nods and says warmly, “I’m Karen Sims. Your aunt’s housekeeper.”
“Oh, poor Aunt Christabelle.”
Morgana actually wipes a tear from her eye and says sadly, “I never even got to meet the darling. I imagine she was a magnificent example of humanity.”
I step in quickly. “Anyway, thank you so much for looking after her. I am very grateful.”
I sense Morgana tense a little beside me and notice the horror on her face as she gazes around the impressive entrance hall.
She shivers and wraps her arms around her body and says incredulously, “My goodness, it’s like a freezer in here. Isn’t the heating on?”
“There is no heating.” Karen shrugs. “Unless you count the woodburners in every room. Bert has lit them all, so perhaps you will be more comfortable in the sitting room. It’s smaller than the drawing room and heats up quicker.”
“Fantastic! Show us the way.”
Morgana offers another, slightly less radiant smile, and as we follow the formidable housekeeper, she whispers, “Goodness, Luke, shall I ask Steven to arrange a plumber? I can’t survive without the central heating on.”
I notice Steven pocketing his phone and call out, “Morgana wants central heating installed. What do you say, Steven?”
“I’ll look into it.” Is his gruff reply and I turn back to her with a soft smile. “There you go. Your wish is my command.”
She nods happily and as we follow Karen, I laugh to myself. It’s a trick that always works because Steven tries his best not to spend any money because he’s as tight as a frozen tap, which is why I pretend he controls my finances, because it ensures I keep hold of them. I’m surprised Morgana hasn’t worked that out yet, and it gives me somebody to blame when her wishes never happen. Yes, Steven is a valued member of my team and he earns a lot of money from me as a result.
We step inside the sitting room and Morgana’s gasp echoes around it as I stare at a space that has been decorated in neglect. The faded upholstery on the sofa tells of a once grand piece of furniture, along with two wing-backed chairs set beside an open fire that is the only life in the room.
The chairs appear dusty and threadbare and their cushions are minus any stuffing, it seems.
The rugs are just about clinging onto life, but speak of the mystery of far-off lands where they began their lives.
An ancient coffee table rests nearby with several water marks stained into the grain, a layer of dust clinging to the cobwebs underneath, obviously overlooked as a cloth wiped the top layer away.
“Luke.” Morgana is speechless and can only say my name as she stares at the once grand room. The windows, although impressive, are framed by faded curtains that disguise dirty glass that may not have been cleaned for years.
“This room smells funny.”
Morgana screws up her nose and stares in horror at the threadbare chairs and Karen says kindly, “I admit it needs a fresh coat of paint and some updating, but it’s been a happy home and I’m positive will be again.”
Her cheery sentence is at odds with the view and my heart sinks as Morgana whispers, “I can’t stay here.”
“Nonsense dear.” Karen steps toward her and smiles kindly. “You’ll soon get used to it. It’s what we call cosy. You’ll love it in no time.”
If anything, the room fills me with sadness because it merely demonstrates what happens when nobody cares anymore. I’m guessing this was once a vibrant room, full of life and splendour that has fallen into disrepair through lack of money and enthusiasm.
Steven says gruffly, “There’s a hotel in Dorchester. They have three rooms available.”
Morgana spins on her heels and smiles with relief. “Oh, goody. That sounds super.”
She takes a deep breath and says calmly, “We will return tomorrow with an interior designer. What we need now is a nice hot bath, some amazing food and wine and a decent night’s sleep.”
She turns to the housekeeper. “Thank you so much, Karen. I appreciate all of your hard work in preparing this um–” She wrinkles her nose. “Um, amazing house, but we couldn’t possibly stay here without central heating.”
Karen shrugs. “The entire village is without central heating and we manage.”
“Are you serious?”
Morgana’s eyes widen and before she can insult the kind housekeeper any further, I say quickly, “Steven, take Morgana to the hotel, Jasper, too. I’ll stay here and Karen can show me around.”
“You’re not joining us?” Morgana’s eyes widen in disbelief and I smile softly. “No. I’ll be okay. I could use the time alone, anyway. It’s been a lot to take in, and I would appreciate the time to see what I’ve inherited.”
“Well, if you’re sure, hun.”
Morgana steps towards me and kisses me on both cheeks and smiles sweetly. “Enjoy, and you know where we are if you change your mind. We’ll be back in the morning.”
I’m certain she breaks the record for exiting a room and Steven rolls his eyes as I mouth, “Thank you.” Before he turns and ushers a horror-struck Jasper from the room. I’m guessing his four-week schedule is slightly longer now and out of everything that has happened so far, that has brought the brightest smile to my face.
As they leave and the house falls silent, I smile at Karen and say politely, “Please, can you show me around? I can’t wait to see the rest of the house.”