Chapter 13
13
After what felt like the fiftieth phone conversation of the day about the five hundred interminable details of the Observatory Field site that needed to be settled before work could finally progress, Tristan Ashcombe hung up the phone in his office and let out a long, frustrated sigh. The Observatory Field build was already a year behind schedule, and he was counting down the days until ground was actually broken and the project could begin. Then, and only then, would he be able to relax.
Tristan was, by nature, a details man. Always had been. That was what made him so good at his job. As chief project manager for Flowerdew Homes South West, he needed both the macro and micro view of a project, and while this played into his, even by his own admission, tendency to be a control freak, it also made him an excellent choice for the housebuilding company. That and his desire to constantly move forward. Tristan never looked back if he could help it. Building new homes, where people could realise their dreams for the future, was his principal driving force, and he’d been at the head of five previous developments, all of which had regenerated and revitalised their local areas, providing hundreds of people with the chance to live in the places they’d grown up.
He was, of course, well aware that this wasn’t always the case with developments. They were often met with violent opposition from people who saw new houses as a threat to the status quo of their surroundings. Early in his career, he’d worked as an assistant for a number of house builders who’d ridden roughshod over the residents, and the landscape. He’d vowed that, when he eventually had the experience, he’d only work for a company that took each plot on its individual merits, not just in the interests of profit, but in the interests of the local community.
He knew that this often set him against the capital-driven goals of the businesses in question, and it had taken him a long time to find a company that aligned with his principles and personal philosophy. And up until now, he’d been extremely happy with the outcomes of the projects he’d managed. Then, Observatory Field had been earmarked as a site for regeneration, and everything Tristan believed in was now being tested to the limit.
It wasn’t that Observatory Field was a bad site: far from it. The buildings on the land had lain empty for years, and the pleasing flatness of the landscape above the steeply inclining woodland lent itself well to the prospect of an estate of small, affordable, well-constructed dwellings that would enable people who were priced out of the local area to really put down some roots. The permission for the access road had been granted four years ago, and after the last deeds and covenants on the land had been recovered from the solicitor in Burnham on Sea, permission had been sought and granted for the new estate. On paper, the development was everything that Tristan strived for and would ensure that many people over the next few years would be able to settle, have families and bring new life to an area that needed an infusion of new blood to keep it alive.
There was just one problem. Observatory Field held a lot of history. Not just in the ground, but in the skies above. And when you, as project manager, were intimately connected with that history, that was when issues had the potential to arise. Despite this, he’d been cleared to project manage the development. His intimate knowledge of Observatory Field could be a benefit, and Flowerdew liked working with people who had an interest in the sites they developed.
The phone on his desk rang again, and, snatching it up in irritation, Tristan barked a terse ‘Hello?’ into the receiver.
‘Tris? Is that you? Everything all right?’
The familiar voice of his twin sister, Thea, came down the line. Immediately, he softened his tone. ‘Hi, Thea. Yes, I’m fine. What can I do for you?’
‘I promised I’d pop in and see Gran tonight, but I’ve been called into Cora’s school for a meeting. Is there any way you can swing by on the way home, check in on her?’
Tristan suppressed a sigh. He’d been hoping to stay late and iron out some of the details from the most recent land survey that had taken place on Observatory Field. There had been some question over a couple of metal compounds that had been found in the soil, and he needed to clarify a few things. If he had to call in on their grandmother, he knew he’d need to do it earlier rather than later.
‘Can’t you get over after the meeting?’ he tried.
Thea’s sigh was more audible than her brother’s suppressed one. ‘Not really,’ she said. ‘My car’s in the garage, so I’m stuck until close of play tomorrow. I’m having to walk to school and back as it is.’
Realising that Thea’s matter-of-fact tone was probably hiding a multitude of woes, Tristan acquiesced. ‘Fine,’ he said. ‘Is the car going to be all right? Do you, er, need any help?’
‘Nothing I can’t handle,’ Thea replied. ‘Just time consuming and expensive, but what isn’t these days?’
‘Well, let me know if there’s anything I can do,’ Tristan replied, knowing full well that Thea wouldn’t. They were both afflicted with a stubborn, self-reliant streak, and it was the thing that drove them mad about each other. They might have been born together, but they’d strived for independence ever since.
‘Just check in on Gran for me, and I’ll deal with the rest,’ Thea said. ‘I mean, you’re virtually on the doorstep these days, aren’t you, for the duration of the build?’
‘Not quite yet, but soon enough,’ Tristan replied. Once Observatory Field was properly underway, he’d be spending a few months on site in a Portakabin office before moving on to the next project, and he was sure Thea would be calling on him a lot more regularly to check in on Lorelai. He was currently still in the office in Taunton, which was about half an hour away from Nightshade Cottage, but he couldn’t say no to Thea’s request. It was very rare that he denied his sister anything.
‘Yup,’ he agreed. ‘OK, Thea, leave it with me. Hope everything goes well at school with Cora.’
‘Thanks, Tris.’ Thea gave a hollow laugh. ‘She’s been unsettled lately, and her teacher wants to talk about how that’s been manifesting itself in class. It’s not surprising, given what she and Dylan have been through over the past couple of years, but hopefully she’ll settle down again soon.’ Thea had endured a traumatic separation from the children’s father, who’d shown very little interest in pursuing a relationship with them after he’d left the family home. Thea, while outwardly recovering, was finding the life of a lone parent exhausting and tricky at times.
‘What’s she been doing?’ Tristan asked. He was ridiculously fond of his niece and nephew, and didn’t like the thought of either of them being less than happy.
‘She punched a boy in the face,’ Thea groaned. ‘Naturally, she had provocation, but I think what really took the biscuit was that she was quoting Henry V part 2 when she did it.’
‘What?’ Despite the seriousness of the deed, Tristan couldn’t help spluttering with laughter. ‘Why the heck was she doing either of those things?’
‘Well, her best mate, a little boy called Harry, was getting mercilessly picked on by this kid so Cora took matters into her own hands – literally,’ Thea replied. ‘And as for the quote… I might have watched The Hollow Crown a few times lately… she obviously overheard Tom Hiddleston giving it some during the whole “God, Harry and St George” speech and decided it would be the perfect accompaniment to a smack in the mouth!’
‘Well, I’ve got to give her points for originality!’ Tristan smiled down the phone. ‘Violence aside, she’s got a great future ahead of her in the theatre!’
Thea laughed, but Tristan sensed the underlying worry of a mother deeply concerned for her child and upset by her actions. ‘Let’s hope she can channel her rage in a better direction next time,’ he said.
‘Thanks, Tris. You always know how to cheer me up. And thanks for popping over to see Gran. She’s got a new lodger, and you know how that worries me. I don’t like the thought of her having strangers in the house. The kids say there’s a dog, too, so it would be great if you could just check out the latest pair of strays who’ve wandered into Gran’s orbit.’
Tristan groaned. ‘I thought she was going to stop having people staying in the annexe. It’s not like she needs the money.’
‘I know,’ Thea agreed, ‘but she says she likes the company still. You know she won’t be told what to do.’
‘I’ll go and make sure it’s not some scrounger,’ Tristan replied. ‘Hopefully it’s just a short-term thing.’
‘Hopefully,’ Thea echoed. ‘She’s getting too old to have people she doesn’t know living in the annexe. If it wasn’t so small, I’d offer to move in there myself and pay her the rent!’
‘You’d never survive it,’ Tristan laughed. ‘You’d drive each other mad in a week.’
‘Yeah, you’re probably right, but it doesn’t stop me worrying about who she does allow to live there.’
Signing off, they both said goodbye and Tristan replaced the receiver. He reckoned he had about another hour before he’d have to head over to check in on their grandmother. He felt irritated that, despite having a talk with her some months ago, she’d decided to take on another tenant. They’d never been problem, but there was always a first time, and he didn’t want to be the one who had to pick up the pieces if his grandmother had taken on more than she could handle. With a dog in the mix, too, goodness only knew what his gran had let herself in for.
Leaving his office sometime later, Tristan got behind the wheel of his Audi Q8 and drove the short distance to his grandmother’s home. Soon, when he was on site at Observatory Field, it would be quicker to walk through the woods and down the hill, than to drive round to Nightshade Cottage. He resolved that he would pop in and see Lorelai more regularly when he was on the development site. For tonight, though, he still had a lot of work to do, and he’d promised to call back a casual girlfriend to firm up some plans for the following weekend – or not. He still wasn’t quite sure whether or not to commit himself.
Pulling off the main road and down the track that led to the house, he eventually reached the secluded driveway. He exited the car, and just as he was about to walk through the back gate towards the door that led to his gran’s kitchen, a familiar black cocker spaniel with a white star on its chest galumphed up to him, barking in a most proprietorial fashion. Before Tristan could stop it, the spaniel had placed its paws on the knees of his light-coloured trousers, covering them with mud. Tristan’s irritation rose instantly. Looking towards the garden, his eyes locked with those of the dishevelled-looking woman he’d met at the gates of the observatory three days ago.
‘Oh, God, Comet, not again!’ the woman stammered. ‘I’m so sorry. Let me get you a cloth and you can sponge off your trousers. He’s been playing in the sprinkler on the lawn.’
‘Don’t bother,’ Tristan snapped. Strolling briskly past her, he entered the door that led to Lorelai’s kitchen. What the hell had his grandmother done this time? Of all the waifs and strays she’d had in the annexe, this woman and her dog were definitely the scruffiest.