Chapter 21
As work on the recipe book and Juliet’s own book gathered pace, along with regular customers at the cookery school, it was a busy but satisfying period. One afternoon, Juliet was in the kitchen at Feywood, where she had come to escape from the bustle and work in total silence. She knew that Martha would be as absorbed as ever in a portrait, Rousseau and Sindhu had gone out for the day and Frankie was barely around anymore, off as she was with the mysterious boyfriend she still refused to tell anyone about. Having achieved a pleasing amount, Juliet was standing by the kettle waiting for it to boil and contemplating a chocolate biscuit or two, while thinking how much she liked this room, even though it was badly in need of a facelift. It had last been refitted in the 1970s and had no doubt been the height of fashion then, when it replaced the 1930s boxy painted wooden cabinets that had preceded it. The dark green fitted units with textured brown laminated worktops that had been installed were rather tired, but still exuded a certain dated charm although not, thought Juliet, tugging at a drawer that always stuck, quite as appealing as smooth runners and soft close mechanisms. The kitchen would be very low on the list when it came to sorting Feywood out and who knew? Maybe it would survive long enough to come back into fashion, although they would have to hide the freestanding gas cooker from any officials, who would instantly condemn it. She was wondering how many of her London friends would mind holding their breath whilst leaning into the oven with a match in order to light it, when Sylvia came in.
‘Hello, would you like a cuppa too? It’s just boiling.’
Sylvia sat down heavily at the table, then leant down to stroke Moriarty’s scruffy head as he came over to greet her.
‘I’d love one, thank you. I came up to pinch some saffron as we’ve run out at the school, but it’s not a bad time for me to take a break.’
Juliet dropped tea bags into two mugs and looked at her aunt with concern.
‘Are you all right? You look awfully tired.’
‘I am tired. The school is doing well, which I’m incredibly grateful for, and the book is coming on wonderfully, thanks to you and Léo, but it does all feel a bit much at times.’
‘I don’t want to pry, but is your health up to it all?’
Sylvia smiled.
‘Thank you, darling, you know I don’t really talk about it much. Yes, I’m okay, but I do get tired more quickly than I used to. I don’t want to be a party pooper when everything is going so well, but I think I need a rest. And actually, I think that you and Léo could do with a break as well. We’ve all been working flat out.’
Juliet nodded.
‘I think you’re right. Léo has seemed rather…oh, I don’t know, offish recently. Maybe a break is a good idea, but can we manage it financially?’
The truth was that Juliet was worried. She had found herself acting cautiously around Léo lately as he veered from affectionate to distracted and touchy and, try as she might to ignore it, it brought back memories of how carefully she had had to handle Toby. She wasn’t fearful of Léo, or scared that he would rage at her, but the sensation of walking on eggshells was familiar, and unwelcome. Getting away from work sounded like a good idea, hopefully one that would put things back on an even keel.
‘We’ve been very busy,’ said Sylvia, sipping her tea, ‘but I think Léo mentioned something earlier about a cancellation. Hold on, I’ll look on our booking system.’ She took out her phone and tapped away for a few seconds. ‘Oh yes! We had a group in next weekend, Thursday to Monday, but they’ve only just cancelled which means we still receive thirty per cent of the fee. Right, I’m blocking the time out before anyone else makes a reservation, and we are all going to take some time out. A friend of mine has been asking me to visit for ages, so I’ll see if she’s free.’
‘Good plan. And I think I have an idea that might convince Léo it’s worth taking the weekend off.’
‘So, this place is run by a friend of yours?’
‘She’s more a friend of Martha’s actually – they were at school together. But I know her quite well and she was happy to make space for us this weekend. She’s keen to swap notes with you.’
Juliet turned the car into a long driveway, past a sign announcing ‘Halebrook Hall Hotel and Restaurant’.
‘And I with her,’ said Léo, peering out of the window at the rolling lawns in front of the large house. ‘She has been running a restaurant mainly from her own kitchen garden for many years, has she not?’
‘Yes, her father started it – on a much smaller scale, of course – then she and her sister took over about ten years ago. Now almost all the food they serve is grown by them, or if they can’t quite manage that, then they source it within twenty miles. They gave over some of the house to hotel rooms and the place is always booked months in advance.’ She pulled up next to a grubby Land Rover and turned off the engine. ‘We’re staying in the family part of the house, so it won’t be quite as smart, but we’ll be perfectly positioned to find out how they run things.’
Léo grinned.
‘Not so smart for you, maybe, but I am still accustoming myself to your country house splendour.’
Juliet rolled her eyes.
‘Oh, you know what I mean. But yes, we’ll hardly be slumming it. Come on, let’s go and find Adriana.’
They eventually tracked down their host in the restaurant, closed at that time of day.
‘Hello, Juliet, welcome to Halebrook. And Léo, wonderful to meet you.’ She hugged them both warmly. ‘I’m so glad you’ve visited; I’ve heard all about the cookery school and your own garden, of course, and I’m dying to swap notes. I was also wondering about an apprenticeship scheme of some sort between us, seeing as you’re so close by.’
They both smiled at the warm welcome and Adriana’s enthusiasm.
‘This all sounds great,’ said Juliet, ‘but I’m going to leave you both to it. Are your parents around? I’d love to catch up with them, then I think I’ll take some photos.’
She left Léo and Adriana talking animatedly and walked back to the house contentedly. It looked like this weekend was just what she and Léo needed to relax and forget all about Sindhu and Toby and the memorial service. She hoped so anyway, because she didn’t want to ask Léo why he seemed distant and moody: she was too scared of what the answer might be.
It wasn’t until early evening when Léo and Juliet saw each other again, when they both went to their room to get ready for dinner.
‘Have you had a good time with Adriana?’ asked Juliet, slipping a grass-green dress over her head. ‘She is so friendly, isn’t she?’
‘Very,’ agreed Léo. ‘She has given me so many tips and ideas – we really have to improve our waste recycling – and she wants some sort of partnership so that we can continue working together. It was a good idea of yours to come here, Juliet, but…’
He paused.
‘What?’ she asked.
‘It was a good idea for me, but what about you? Maybe this is not the first thing you would have chosen for yourself for a weekend break?’
She frowned at him.
‘I don’t know what you mean. It’s lovely here. I can take plenty of photos and I get time away from Feywood and the family. What’s not to like?’
He shrugged.
‘I just want you to do what you want, that is all.’
‘It is what I want. Léo, I was trying to do something nice for you, I don’t see what the problem is.’
He opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted by her phone ringing. She snatched it up, then flicked the red icon furiously and threw it down again.
‘Bloody Toby!’
‘Is he still ringing? I don’t understand why you do not block his number.’
‘Look, I don’t enjoy it, all right? If I block his number, he’ll find another way to call, and at least this way I know it’s him, so I won’t answer by mistake. It helped for a while when you picked up, but not for long.’
‘He is very persistent, is he not?’
‘Yes…but he’s wasting his time.’
‘He surely thinks there must be some possibility you will change your mind, or he would not bother?’
Juliet stared at him for a moment.
‘Are you serious?’
He dropped his eyes.
‘I – I don’t know. I just want to be sure, Juliet, that I am not stopping you from what is best.’
‘And you think Toby is best? For goodness’ sake, Léo, you’ve met him. Do you really think he might be the best thing for me?’
Léo raised his eyes, filled now with tears, and stepped towards her.
‘Mon amour, please, I am sorry. I just worry, worry that I might spoil things somehow.’
She stepped into his embrace and laid her head on his shoulder.
‘Léo, I know that I was with Toby for a long time, but that wasn’t because it was good. It was…it was…well, more complicated than that. It’s hard to explain.’ Hard to explain when I don’t understand it myself, and all I feel is shame for being such a fool. ‘But just know that I would not make the same mistake again, and I know I am not making it with you. I don’t understand why you think I might.’ Oh, how I hope I am not making it with you.
He lifted her chin and kissed her tenderly.
‘I am sorry, ma chérie. I trust in your wisdom. I just want to be good enough for you.’
‘Of course you are. Of course you are. Now let’s go down to dinner and enjoy ourselves. I think we needed a break more than I realised.’
The evening was wonderful and the food exquisite. Sitting in the candlelit orangery opposite Léo, chatting nonstop about everything from how much borage is too much to whether she should approach Frankie about her recent erratic behaviour, Juliet relaxed. They were so happy together; she mustn’t let her experience with Toby make her scared and defensive. No, it was time to move on, and who better to do it with than this funny, passionate, caring man?
The next morning, Léo was invited to work with the chef to discover how he planned his menus, so Juliet took the opportunity to catch up with Adriana over coffee in the magnificent, panelled library.
‘You’ve done amazing things here at Halebrook,’ she said. ‘Feywood is a lot smaller, and I don’t think we could manage things on quite this scale, but I’m glad we’ve got the cookery school – and I’ve even got some ideas about how we could build on it.’
‘You should. These massive old houses are incredible, and a privilege to own and to live in, but my goodness they come with problems – and responsibilities. Some members of the family were hugely against us opening up at first, but everyone understands now that it was necessary, and most of us enjoy sharing the place with others. You’re lucky that you have Léo – he really knows what he’s doing.’
Juliet smiled.
‘Yes, he does. I thought he was an arrogant know-it-all at first, but he’s just really…good.’
They laughed.
‘Good is good!’ said Adriana, offering Juliet a plate of lavender shortbread. ‘Looks like things are going well between the two of you, as well?’
‘They are. I think.’ Suddenly, the old insecurities came rushing to the surface again. Juliet longed to share her worries and her words came out in a torrent. ‘It’s just that recently he’s been quite withdrawn, and I feel like I keep saying the wrong thing. He either says he’s fine or that he’s just worried he’s not good enough for me, but at one point it even felt like he was encouraging me to go back to my old boyfriend, who was…who was…’
Adriana reached over and squeezed Juliet’s hand.
‘It’s okay, you don’t have to explain. Martha told me about Toby. She’s usually so discreet, but she really hates him for the way he treated you.’
‘Yes. And I let him,’ said Juliet miserably.
‘It’s more complicated than that, I know,’ replied Adriana. ‘I had a friend who went through something similar. You just have to remember that none of it was your fault. People like that are very clever at getting other people to do what they want, and you were not to blame.’
Juliet smiled gratefully at Adriana’s fierce expression.
‘Thank you. I do know that really, but it leaves me feeling so vulnerable. If I fell for it once, maybe I’ll fall for it again? I’m clearly not the best judge of these things. Maybe Léo is another master manipulator and he’s gaslighting me, making me feel insecure, in order to control me. Or maybe it’s something else? Maybe he thinks I’m damaged. Weak and stupid for having stayed with Toby so long. Does he want to push me away but doesn’t have the guts to say it himself, so he’s waiting for me to?’
‘I can’t think it could possibly be that. Seeing the two of you together…well, he doesn’t look like a man who wants rid of you.’
‘It doesn’t feel like that, but what do I know? Or maybe he’s hiding something, and he feels guilty, and that’s why he’s acting so hot and cold. Maybe he’s cheating on me – oh Adriana, I hope not.’
‘Jools, I’m so sorry that you’re this upset. All I can say is that from the little I’ve seen of him, and of the two of you together, everything seems perfect. I know people can be very adept at hiding their true self, but Léo just seems so genuine. Like he wears his heart on his sleeve.’
Juliet put down her cup.
‘Yes, he does. That’s a good way of describing him. But something’s not quite right, I know it, and I feel so confused. Then I worry that one shouldn’t really feel this confused.’
‘Why not? Love isn’t always straightforward, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that something’s irreparably wrong. Why don’t you just talk to him?’
The two women looked at each other and burst out laughing.
‘That does seem like a remarkably sensible suggestion,’ said Juliet. ‘I suppose I’ve been too scared of what the answer would be. But it might be better than all this muddle. Oh, I don’t know, maybe it would be safer to be single again.’
‘I’m sure it would,’ replied Adriana, raising an eyebrow, ‘but that’s not what you want, is it?’
Juliet shook her head and felt tears rising in her eyes.
‘No, it’s really, really not.’
‘Then talk to him, darling, have it out. At least then you’ll know.’
Juliet nodded, feeling better for having shared her worries. Yes, she would talk to him, as soon as they got back to Feywood.
But when they arrived home, the first thing they saw was an enormous bouquet of flowers, and a card with Juliet’s name on the envelope.
‘They’re lilies,’ said Juliet, her heart sinking. ‘They’ll be from him.’
‘Do you want me to read the card?’
She sighed deeply.
‘No, I’ll do it. I have to keep confronting it, not hiding behind you or anyone else.’ She ripped open the envelope and read the card, then threw it down on the table.
Lettie, stop torturing me and yourself. You know we belong to each other. Toby.
Léo read it, his face pinched.
‘What do you want to do?’ he asked.
‘I’m going to put my bag away, have a cup of tea, then throw the whole lot in the compost,’ said Juliet. ‘And then we’re both going to forget we ever saw them and remember our lovely weekend away. Okay?’
‘Bon.I will put the kettle on.’
Juliet smiled her thanks, but it was forced. The weekend was soured, no matter how bravely she tried to push past it. Would she ever be free of Toby? she fretted, as she unpacked her bag and slowly put things away. Or would she eventually capitulate, as he seemed so sure she would, whether she wanted to or not?