Chapter 5 Albie #2
A few eyebrows lifted, people leaning forward in their chairs.
‘After extensive research in the 1960s, scientists determined strong community and family bonds amongst the residents were causing a surge in oxytocin, protecting people’s hearts from disease.
Oxytocin increases blood flow in the heart, softens and dilates the arteries, and reduces blood pressure.
’ He paused for dramatic effect. ‘And they discovered the strong bonds were a direct result of the kindness and mutual support the Rosetans showed one other.’ His voice softened, emotion rising in this throat as he glanced at Tori.
‘There is nothing happy-clappy about that. It’s science, pure and simple.
Do your own research if you don’t believe me. ’
‘Wow,’ Kirsten murmured. ‘A community who prolonged each other’s lives through kindness. That’s kind of beautiful.’
This time the quality of the silence was different, full of quiet wonder as the group absorbed what Albie had told them, along with Kirsten’s comment.
Harley looked sceptical and pulled out his phone, tapping on the screen and mumbling under his breath.
Tori’s expression was thoughtful, head tipping to one side as if listening to a symphony only she heard. Was she thinking of composing a story? He’d read some of her online articles from a Midlands paper, and they were brilliant. A bit sardonic, but also touching. Quite unique.
‘Isn’t that sort of cynical?’ she queried. ‘Like acts of kindness are done to gain something?’
Albie closed his eyes in despair. He didn’t have much time, and there was no way he could do this alone. Help me, Rose.
There was a quiet buzzing sound, and the lightbulbs in the sparkling chandelier overhead brightened by a few degrees. Opening his eyes as the library filled with a warmer glow, Albie hid his gratitude and blandly remarked, ‘Huh. These period properties do have their little quirks.’
As if prodded by an invisible hand, Ariel jumped to her feet, green eyes sparkling. ‘Well, I’m sold on this Roseto thing. If I can keep this beauty and youth for longer,’ she gestured to her face with a delicate twist of her fingers, ‘I’m in. Oh, Ariel, by the way.’
‘Like the Disney mermaid?’ Harley drawled, lifting his head from his phone.
‘No, like the prankish spirit from Shakespeare’s play The Tempest.’
‘I don’t read much, but wasn’t that character male?’
‘Gender fluid, actually,’ Ariel smirked. ‘So, read more.’
‘All right, that’s enough.’ Her partner got up, sharp dark bob swinging around her shoulders.
‘I’m Gilly, and sorry, this all sounds very interesting but it’s taking too long.
I’ve lots of unpacking, plus a new job starting Monday.
And I don’t see how people with commitments can be expected to do cottage conversions within twelve months.
It’s also going to cost a small fortune, even with the fund. ’
The lone man in the second row raised his hand.
‘Sorry to interrupt, but the works must start within a year, not be completed. Doing up these types of properties can be time-consuming though, especially after being empty for long periods, so we shouldn’t wait.
We need to hire local workmen specialising in conservation.
Listed Building Consent isn’t required because the cottages are only ninety years old, but we’ll want people used to working in older properties.
Also, we could lump money together and get them to offer a discount through group tenders.
It could work.’ Grinding to a halt, he added sheepishly, ‘I’m Theo, by the way.
Architect by trade, just in case you couldn’t guess, but currently on a career break. ’
‘Thank you, Theo. And the good news is, we don’t have to do it alone.
’ Albie tipped his chin at the tall, blond, official-looking man who’d just arrived.
Albie had propped open the manor’s front door, as agreed by phone.
‘Perfect timing. Thank you for coming, Ethan. Would you like to introduce yourself?’
‘Hi, Albie. Thanks, yes, absolutely.’ Strolling to the front, he turned around to face everyone, an ID card dangling from a lanyard around his neck.
His gaze flickered over each resident, resting on Tori for a longer beat before straightening his broad shoulders.
‘Hi. I’m Ethan, the Area Conservation Officer for the local council.
It’s my job and privilege to protect the heritage assets of the Local Authority, and ensure any developments on Listed Buildings are compliant with regulations and permissions. ’
He smiled, expression open. ‘Theo’s correct that the cottages aren’t Listed, but the village has some historical significance because of the manor, so we’ve taken an interest in what you’ll be doing here.
We’d like the cottages to retain their charm and be restored sympathetically.
By the end of this project, you might not like me very much because I’m a stickler for detail, but I’m here to help.
Phew, it’s warm in here.’ Stripping off his suit jacket, Ethan unbuttoned and rolled his shirt sleeves up his strong forearms. There was an ease about him which inspired trust, and everyone was listening, though Gilly had an impatient expression and Tori’s face was buried in her upraised knees again.
‘I was lucky enough to oversee the conversion of Beaubrook Manor into apartments,’ Ethan continued, ‘meeting regularly with the developers for site inspections and ensuring planning permission was adhered to. When Mr Curville told me about the clause in your contracts, I was pleased. When I was here, I thought it was a real shame how run-down the village is. It’s got amazing potential to be habitable, and is so quaint and quintessentially British.
Also, while the work was going on, even with diggers and workmen constant banging and drilling, there was still an underlying tranquillity.
It's a happy place, so I’m glad to be back. ’
There was no trace of self-consciousness in the man’s words, which Albie admired. ‘Thank you, we’ll appreciate your guidance.’
‘Sorry,’ Gilly gave them an exasperated look, ‘but let’s not romanticise this. The cottages are ramshackle, and I’m surprised the village is still even on maps. We’re talking about a huge amount of work.’
Ethan nodded. ‘Agreed, but based on my experience, it’ll be worth it. Also, point of interest, technically it’s a hamlet because there’s no church or village hall.’
Hmmm, Albie hadn’t known that, and didn’t think Rose had either.
Raising his hand, he brought their collective focus back to the required decision.
‘Shall we pick one cottage and work on it collectively? Support each other and pool ideas?’ Oh, bugger it, he’d forgotten his notepad. ‘Does anyone have pen and paper?’
Theo pulled out his phone. ‘I’ll make notes.’ A brief sadness glimmered in his brown eyes. ‘I need something to do with my time, so would be happy to start with my cottage, but am equally okay if we pick someone else’s. Happy to be on the committee too.’
‘Sorry, we’re out. We’ve too many commitments already. Talk to us in six months’ time.’ Gilly replied, taking Ariel’s hand. ‘Come on.’
Ariel slid her fingers free. ‘I’m staying, Gee.’
Gilly stiffened. ‘Suit yourself.’
Albie sighed as she stalked out. He hadn’t meant to cause upset. Perhaps Gilly, who reminded him of the actress off that submarine police thriller, would change her mind once Ariel was actively involved.
Shifting his attention to the back wall, he raised his voice, ‘Harley? What about you?’
Begrudgingly, the man replied, ‘I don’t own a cottage, but as Site Manager I suppose I have to help.’
‘Good,’ Albie said, not remarking on his lack of grace. ‘Now, shall we talk about timescales—’
‘Whoosh!’ The little boy, largely forgotten during the conversation, tired of his game and sprung up from the carpet. Pretending to fly like a superhero, he tripped over legs and banged into people’s knees, producing oofs and carefuls out of them and disrupting the conversation.
‘Um, Vanessa, is it?’ Albie shuffled over to his oblivious mother, still scrolling through her screen. ‘Will you be joining the committee?’
‘Don’t think so.’ She yawned, tucking her mobile into the pocket of her cream miniskirt.
He waited a moment, before tactfully prompting, ‘If nothing else has convinced you, we do have a legal obligation—’
‘Doubt I’ll be here long enough.’ Rising from her seat with a flash of bright red soles on towering heels, she strutted to the door. ‘Let’s go, Laurie.’
Kirsten, frowning at seeing she didn’t bother to check if her son was following, sprang up and herded the boy after his mum.
‘Tori?’ Albie turned to his next-door neighbour. It would do her good to be around people.
Raising her chin, she wrinkled her nose before answering, ‘No way. Count me out.’ Without looking at anyone, she stood up and bolted from the room.
Ethan watched her depart, staring at the doorway after she’d gone.
‘Poor thing,’ Kirsten said as she returned to the front, gazing after Tori. ‘There’s obviously something going on there.’
‘Who was that?’ Ethan asked.
‘Ha!’ Harley scoffed. ‘I wouldn’t waste your time on her. She’d sooner bite you than give you the time of day.’ He didn’t appear to appreciate the irony of his comment.
Albie patted Ethan on the arm. ‘That was Tori.’ Smiling, he added wryly, ‘Welcome back to Beaubrook Manor.’
Next, he spoke to the ghost in his head. She wasn’t there, but talking to her was as natural as breathing. Well, Rose, I tried my best and they’re not jumping for joy, but it could have been worse. Now let’s see whether they’re worthy of this special place.
Kirsten looked at her daughter. ‘Rosie, pass the cake please?’
The little girl brought it over, and asked cheekily, ‘Mummy, because I’ve been good, can I have the rest of my Easter eggs today?’
‘Child, you are positively powered by chocolate.’
‘Is that why she has so few teeth?’ Harley grumped.
Kirsten sputtered a laugh. ‘Nope, it’s because her big ones are coming through.
’ Shaking her head, she dished out flaky, iced slices oozing with velvety smooth custard.
‘We haven’t got bubbly, so we’ll raise a pastry instead.
’ She stopped, thinking, and then her mouth curved.
‘Here’s to the adventure we’re embarking on to build a strong community and village.
Let’s aim for healthy hearts and long lives.
’ She held hers aloft, mimicking a champagne toast. ‘To new beginnings.’
Smiling, they held up their pastries and except for Harley, chorused, ‘New beginnings!’