Chapter Nine
After an appalling night’s sleep, Clem was livid that she had to get out of bed; she was finally warm, but her bladder left her no option. As she ran into the bathroom, she automatically switched on the light and then realised that the light came on. It was fixed, which was great news, but did this mean she had overslept? Someone must have come to the castle and fixed it, but what the hell time was it? She dashed back to her bedside table and was relieved to see it was only 8.45. She had probably enough time to brush her teeth and get dressed and that was it before the staff meeting that she had called for nine.
Slipping on her platform trainers and a baggy, velvet tracksuit, she sprinted out of her bedroom and down to the kitchen. Pausing outside the door, she took a deep breath and opened it. This time the room was silent. The staff looked nervous and Miss Farano looked even more uptight, if that were even possible.
‘Good morning all again. Sorry I’m late, dreadful night’s sleep. But that can be quickly remedied with a coffee. Who else wants one? I don’t have any milk or sugar but I’ll fix that for tomorrow.’
A few faces looked at Miss Farano tentatively, whilst others demurred politely that they already had a tea. Duncan noisily pushed back his chair with a flourish, and poured his tea down the sink.
‘I’d bloody love a coffee. Sit down now whilst I make it for you.’ As he walked towards her with his back to the housekeeper, he gave her a broad wink and took the plastic tub from her.
Settling down at the other end of the table from Miss Farano, Clem started to outline the new routine for the staff.
‘And that’s basically it. Clean through the castle and tidy up the grounds. Come and see me if you are aware of any problems that need addressing, and if you can think of any ways to make some money tell me about them as well.’
‘Is this so that it’s ready to put on the market?’ asked one of the men.
Clem shrugged. ‘I’m not going to lie to you. We haven’t made any plans but if it is going to be sold it needs to look good. But if we’re going to keep it, then it needs to be taken care of anyway. It’s too special to be allowed to fade.’
She looked around at the faces. There were a few nods but no one was particularly happy. ‘I’m sorry I can’t be more positive but I don’t want to lead any of you on. Oh, and I also need all your full details. Full name, address, national insurance number, date of birth…’ she ran through the list that Ari had told her to get. ‘Some of my uncle’s paperwork seems out of date, so we’d just like to have the latest information. Can I check? Are you all up to date with your holiday pay?’ Ari had been particular about that; both sisters thought it unlikely that Miss Farano had either thought or been able to cover it.
‘Everyone is completely up to date,’ snapped Otto. ‘You only had to ask and I could have provided you with all the details.’
Clem bit her lip. This woman’s generosity was as deep as her venom was vicious.
‘Right well, I think that’s it. Incidentally, Miss Farano, who did you get to fix the electrics?’
‘I did that, miss.’ Clem looked at a woman she had pegged as one of the cleaners. She looked to be in her thirties, with short, dyed-blonde hair. She was wearing a dark blue sweatshirt and jeans. Functional rather than fancy.
‘I do a lot of the basic maintenance around here. The wiring in the kitchen needs a proper overhaul, but I do what I can to help us limp along.’
Clem looked at Miss Farano through narrowed eyes and then returned her attention to the woman.
‘Sorry, what’s your name? – Right Ginny, where do you live? I mean do you live nearby?’
‘Oh yes, I live over in Pitton, near the river.’
Clem paused, trying to count to ten.
‘Just so I know. For future reference like. If I blew that fuse at, let’s say, four in the afternoon. And you weren’t in the castle. Would it be okay for me to call on you and for you to pop out and fix it?’
‘Not an issue at all, miss.’
‘Even if it’s dark?’
‘Ach don’t be worrying about that. I could walk around here blindfold. Miss Farano has a dodgy connection in her rooms and I’ve been up here as late as nine o’clock. Call me whenever.’
Otto sat at the other end of the table, her eyebrow very gently raised and her lip slightly curled. Clem dismissed counting to ten and reminded herself that murder, no matter how provoked, was still considered a no-no in polite circles. Otto had won that round. Wait until later when she fired her. Just at that moment, Otto’s stomach gave an alarming rumble, turning her expression to one of embarrassment.
‘Did you miss your breakfast?’ teased one of the older men gently.
‘There were no eggs this morning, so I had to go without.’
‘Oh, were they bad? Let me know and I’ll tell my sister to check them before she sells them.’ The old man turned to Clem. ‘She’s got a small holding and provides Miss Farano here with her eggs. If you want to be added to her list just say; she also does milk, butter, cheese and meat.’
As he rattled through his sister’s growing empire, Clem’s heart sank. No doubt Otto had had the same cold night as she had; she probably had no hot water as Clem had used it all and then as a final insult Clem had dropped her breakfast on the floor. No wonder she was mad at her.
‘No, the eggs were fine,’ said Clem, interrupting his heavily accented rambles. ‘I just dropped them on the floor yesterday. Oh that reminds me, be careful around the counter over there. I haven’t cleaned it up yet.’
‘Don’t worry, Lady Clementine. Ginny cleaned it up this morning. It’s what she’s paid to do.’
Clem’s cheeks flushed. No one had ever cleaned up after her. She had gone through school doing cleaning jobs. The idea that the staff thought she was above cleaning up after herself was mortifying. She couldn’t think of a single thing to say that didn’t sound craven.
‘Right. Well, thank you for that, Ginny. I’m going to have a quick tour of the house now. If anyone wants to talk to me just track me down or shout.’
And with that she fled from the kitchen.
***
Fed up with how she had handled things so far, Clem decided to start looking around the castle. Grabbing her sketchbook and a pencil, she started with the tower. A stone spiral staircase wound its way up to the top of the tower. Inside the column of the spiral was a dumb waiter that looked large enough to fit a chair in, or maybe cannonballs. As she explored each floor, her footsteps echoed across the dusty wooden floorboards. Some levels of the tower were either one single room or split into several smaller rooms. Furniture was piled up in jumbles and there was a sense that this was where the broken things ended up. The only bathroom in the tower was on the first floor, and in the cellar she found a well. Mentally she decided to add some food dye to the loo to check that the well wasn’t also attached to the sewers. Having puffed her way to the very top, she unbolted a heavy door and was delighted to find herself out on the roof. It was cold but breezy and Clem edged her way out carefully onto the ramparts. From here she was able to look down on the whole of the property, and quickly sketched out a rough floor plan and layout of the gardens that wrapped around the castle. From where she was looking, she could also see various plants growing out of some of the gutters, and looking over at one of the towers she could see a small window at the top was flapping in the breeze.
Heading back downstairs, she moved across into the occupied section of the castle and realised that it was a bit of a labyrinth. She wandered along narrow corridors where the plaster was flaking off. In some sections it lay undisturbed on the floor. Barrel roof larders and storage rooms peppered the underground passages. Every now and then she would pass a skinny staircase heading up.
Taking one of these staircases, she opened the door at the top and found herself standing in a library. She turned to look at the door behind her and discovered that it was disguised as a bookcase. From the library, she wandered along other, wider corridors. In some places, a worn-out carpet runner adorned the hall, in others the boards were bare. Clem was beginning to get a feel for the place. Stone floors in the cellars, carpets on the first two floors, mostly, some very threadbare, and then the top levels were bare wood.
Sometimes a passageway would end in four doorways, three doors led to three connecting rooms, the fourth led to another little staircase.
In one grand room she saw a door in the far corner and walked through it into another room, smaller but with an opulent ceiling in deep plaster relief. Another door led into an even smaller room that was dwarfed by a massive four poster bed. In the corner was a small curtain and behind that was a small door that led to a flight of steps leading down. Grinning with excitement, Clem brushed the cobwebs away and followed the steps down until she was back in the cellars. She wondered if this was a priest’s escape route or how servants magically appeared and disappeared. Either way it was another room and corridor sketched onto her plan. Heading back upstairs, she tried the right-hand side of the building. She entered a very pretty room and noticed that on the opposite wall stood a pair of double doors. Double doors always meant fancy in Clem’s eyes and she pushed them open and gasped in joy. Here was the ballroom.
Running along the ceiling, five cotton bags hung down, no doubt protecting chandeliers from the dust. The pale blue walls were hand-painted with birds and insects flitting around trees, ripe with fruit. Huge gilt-framed mirrors lined the walls, and as she walked forwards, she noticed the very slight movement beneath her feet of a properly sprung dance floor. At the far end stood a huge fireplace; the opposite wall was draped in gold damask curtains. Walking across the room, she pulled back one of the drapes and revealed floor-to-ceiling glazed doors that led out onto a stone terrace. It was magnificent. Drawing all the curtains, Clem saw that the view looked out over a collection of small, enclosed garden areas and down towards a river. Beyond the river, in the distance rose the ever-present mountains.
An exciting thought started to bubble up in her head and she returned to the other long wall and started to inspect the skirting boards. Sure enough there were several sets of electric sockets hidden in them. This would work. This was where she was going to base her business. She could have multiple cutting benches in here, and several sewing stations. The space was more than she could ever afford and the light was perfect. Plus there was a fire for the many, many days Clem envisaged freezing her arse off in here.
When Symeon had pulled the rug out from under her, he had not just deprived her of her self-confidence and her collection, he’d also deprived her of anywhere to work. She had spent the last year working in his studio, moving from apprentice to protegee to muse to lover and then apparently to dupe.
One month before he was due to launch their collection, he told her their affair was over. She hadn’t seen it coming but wasn’t unduly upset. The only thing they really had in common was the collection they had together. That was when he dropped the bombshell that her employment contract was also over. Clem hadn’t responded well to that and then exploded when she discovered that she had no rights to her designs.
She had wept and screamed, and the more things she threw at him the more he laughed. At one point she was about to hurl a pair of scissors at him and managed to pull herself back from the brink. She loved those scissors and would be gutted if she blunted them.
All the stories he had told her about his previous apprentices being lazy and untalented turned out to be a pack of lies. She had hunted them down and listened in mounting horror as her own story was retold to her over glasses of wine and cups of coffee. Each time the girl in question repeated the same pattern. Some had found new jobs in the industry, others had left defeated.
Clem stormed back to him and demanded that he acknowledge her work. Instead, when he heard that she had spoken to others he threatened to take her to court there and then; apparently her contract had a gag clause in it and she and all the others had broken their terms by discussing it.
Her fury had turned to terror. She had no money with which to fight him, neither had the others. What had she done?
Looking back now, Clem winced at how grateful she had been when he said he wouldn’t pursue this if she dropped the matter and left quietly. Which she did. When her sister inherited the Hiverton Estate, Clem was tempted to go back and have it out with him, but she didn’t have a clue where to start. A clean slate was what she needed and looking around her now she could see that the universe had provided it. Symeon could go boil his head.
Bouncing with delight, she turned her notepad over. She would continue with the plans of the castle later. For now she had a new goal. She ran back upstairs and changed before she went shopping.
***
As she got to the front door, she passed Ginny and decided to apologise privately for the mess she had left on the floor.
‘I should have done it but I was just in a stupid mood.’
‘Don’t apologise; I know just what you mean. I go to bed right sore with my boys but when I wake up in the morning the mess is still there. Sometimes I think I’m my own worst enemy.’
Clem laughed ruefully. ‘I know the feeling. Tell me,’ she asked changing the subject, ‘I’m heading out to buy loads of stuff. I need a big supermarket and maybe a high street as well? Where do you suggest and how far is it? Everything around here seems to be in another country.’
‘Sounds like you need Inverkeshen,’ said Ginny, naming the local town. ‘Although for a decent high street, I reckon you’d be better taking the day and going to Edinburgh or Inverness. In fact, if you’re really going to go shopping, and I mean proper knock yourself out shopping, you should plan to stay overnight. Nothing worse than rushing away for another three-hour drive.’
Clem blanched. ‘But that’s ridiculous, you can’t manage like that?’
‘Ah no, miss, there’s loads of great little towns round here, but I thought you might want something a bit fancier?’
‘Please just call me Clem,’ she asked absentmindedly. ‘Fancy’s fine, but for now I guess a big supermarket will do me.’ Everyone here seemed to think she was some sort of upper-class dilettante and so far she wasn’t doing much to dispel their opinions. Thanking Ginny for the instructions, she headed to the door just as Ginny called out to her.
‘Mind the weather now, heavy snow is forecast tonight. I wouldn’t linger.’
Clem looked up at the blue skies and looked at her phone. It was midday now so she should be fine. Plus, who the hell heard of snow in May?