Chapter Fourteen
Rainy Days
By Monday morning, I’m feeling infinitely better. The only remaining sign of my sickness is having to blow my nose on occasion, but it’s something I’m overjoyed to live with after the past few days of feeling like rubbish.
I walk across the grounds, listening to the birds chirping as I make my way to the gift shop to prepare for the day. The clouds are thick overhead, and rain is expected for most of today. I glance upwards, taking in the grey sky. It’s gloomy and foreboding. I know from experience we’ll have less visitors to the estate and grounds, and usually on days like this, I go stir crazy rearranging everything in the shop.
But not today.
I reach the small stone shop with the thatched roof and insert my key into the lock. The old door creaks open, and I step inside, taking stock of everything. It’s in pristine condition, which takes a lot of work after a weekend of tourists rummaging through it. I know Maria worked yesterday, and she did a fantastic job setting everything to rights again.
The shop is cosy and welcoming, with old hardwood floors and tables neatly arranged with souvenirs and gifts that relate to Wintersmith Hall. We have the standard items: tea towels with our estate printed on them, souvenir books, postcards. There are totes with the image of Wintersmith Hall, and T-shirts and hoodies.
Another table has things for the garden, like decor pieces, pots, tools, and packets of seed branded with Wintersmith Hall as well.
My gaze falls to the selection of local preserves, featuring the fruits of the region, tucked onto a shelf. My idea was to get bees to make our own honey, and market it alongside the preserves with Wintersmith Hall branding.
Of course, Nicholas shot that down immediately and laughed at it, as did my parents, chalking it up to another idea their butterfly would leave half abandoned once I lost interest or grew bored.
I’ve only confessed the truth to Noah and Aimee, I think. That I abandon things when I think I’ll make a mistake and disappoint people.
When I become convinced I’ll fail.
Nicholas guessed the truth, of course. And I could tell he was stricken that I took their words to heart in the way I did.
I slip out of my raincoat and hang it up on the peg rack next to the door. I leave the door open, as we always do to create a welcoming vibe to the shop, and move to the back of the till. The first thing I do is boot up the computer, thoughtfully chewing on my lower lip as I wait for it to come to life.
I retrieve the money bag from my tote and open the till, placing the money inside to be ready for the day, and slip my tote underneath. Next, I trim the wick on the vanilla buttercream candle on the counter and light it, as the scent makes the shop feel homey.
As the candle perfumes the air, I think about how I was so vulnerable with Noah. How did I ever get brave enough to share my fears with him? It was such a massive risk, showing self-doubt and vulnerability before an official first date. It easily could have killed his interest in me.
But not with a man like Noah.
I reflect back to our conversation in the garden and how he didn’t bat an eyelash at the fact that I’ve been stuck in a gift shop and terrified to make a career move.
I was brave enough to fight for a second chance with Noah, something I never ever would have done before. Now I need to continue to take these steps, but this time, with my eye on a career.
However, that is way more terrifying to me than approaching Noah. A career involves the possibility of disappointing a lot of people. The person who hired you. Coworkers. Clients.
Anxiety grips me as the computer prompts me for a password, and I key it in. I get queasy at the thought of messing something up for that kind of audience. I’ve got to take steps to move past that feeling.
Starting today.
As the Wintersmith Hall logo appears on the screen, I think about what I have planned for this morning. I’m going to be here, of course, ready for the tour buses to roll in for the first tours of the morning. But during lull periods, I’m going to start researching potential career opportunities that might exist in Dorset. There are some art galleries here, after all.
And I’ll also look at London.
Now, London has nothing to do with Noah—besides, he lives in Surrey anyway. If I’m to have a professional job using my art history degree, it’s the best place to look.
It’s also the best place for me to build a new life for myself.
I should have done this years ago, but something about meeting Noah—and hearing about what he’s done in the Premier League—has inspired me to be brave.
This is the first step.
I check the schedule for this week. I’m off on Thursday and Friday, so it would be lovely if I could get Maria to cover me for Wednesday, Saturday, and if I’m really lucky, Sunday. I see she’s not scheduled for those dates, so perhaps she’ll be interested in taking those shifts. If she’s not or can’t cover all of them, I’ll reach out to Diane and Ellie.
I send her an email with my request and the dates I’d like for her to work, along with the hours, even though I’m sure she knows those by heart by now, as she started working with us in the spring.
I make a final inspection of the shop, which is just as perfect as I thought it was upon first sight, and then I go back to the computer. I pop onto the internet, gather my breath for courage, and begin to look for opportunities.
Let’s see. An early-years art teacher—but I don’t have a childcare qualification. Costume cutter. Considering I cannot even thread a needle correctly, that would be a no. Ooh! Gallery assistant! I quickly read the description, then quit when I see they want previous gallery experience, which is something I don’t have.
Hmm. Maybe I need to start small before I can make a bigger step. I go back and read the qualifications they are looking for. They want an art history degree—and for some of these I’m overqualified, as I have a master’s degree in art history—but they also want experience in setting up exhibitions, putting together inventory lists, helping set gallery events …
I did my internship at an auction house in London, but I was focused on communications rather than auction operations, which was what I really wanted to do. But at least I have that.
Then I’ve been at Wintersmith Hall the past two years. My knack for picking preserves that sell well probably won’t be very impressive on my CV.
I keep thinking about my situation and how I can rectify it. Nothing comes to mind, then suddenly an idea hits me. What if I create my own internship experience here, this summer?
My brain begins to buzz with excitement, as it often does whenever I have a new idea. Dad won’t let me do anything major with the art in the house, but what about arranging a small exhibition of art to display in the gardens or something? Featuring students or local talent? Oh, it could be garden sculptures! That would be cool. Or perhaps a pop-up art market, with art from local artists or art that features Dorset?
I could also update the old listing of all the paintings for Wintersmith Hall, perhaps combining it into a new catalogue that I could also show to a potential employer as another skill I’ve cultivated whilst living in Dorset.
“Hi, Violet!”
I blink. I’ve been so wrapped up in my ideas that I didn’t even notice Amelia had walked into the shop. I see her pause and slip out of her raincoat, hanging it next to mine, and then she makes her way over to where I’m standing at the till.
“Good morning,” I say cheerfully, minimising the screen with the job search results on it.
“I thought I’d pop by and see you before Nicholas and I started our projects for the day,” she says brightly.
“Ooh, today will be a good day for the leak log,” I tell her.
Leaks are always exposed on rainy days, and there’s an endless supply of them in a house built in 1642. Nicholas keeps a record of them so we can try to get them fixed.
Amelia nods. “Yes, it is. I’m sure that’s what we will focus on as soon as the rain breaks. There’s supposed to be thunderstorms in the next hour or two.”
I study her carefully for a moment. She’s smiling and her green eyes are bright, and she looks happy. I remember when she first came here, brimming with ideas to open a bridal salon here at Wintersmith Hall.
But a funny thing happened. As she learnt estate management with Nicholas, Amelia discovered that was her true calling. Managing and working on a historic estate. After our plant sale, she and Nicholas talked about their goals and what they wanted, and the result is they are going to split their working time between our estate and hers. Here, they’ll do the small routine things Dad allows them to do.
But at Swallowhedge? They’ve been given permission to learn at the hand of their estate manager. Nicholas will get to dig into projects with Amelia, and I couldn’t be happier for both of them.
“I’m so glad you discovered your passion for estate management,” I say, smiling at her. “You look so happy whenever you’re working.”
Amelia’s face turns to one of complete joy.
“I’m enjoying it so much, and I never dreamt I would. It’s funny what can happen when you take a chance. All of this—being here, being with Nicholas, now working alongside him—wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t approached you with my idea. I owe you so much, Violet.”
“You don’t owe me anything,” I say, surprised she thinks I had something to do with her new path in life. “Nicholas is the one who gave you the green light to work here.”
Amelia shakes her head, her glossy black locks swaying from side to side. “No, I had to have you on my side first. And I also know, if Nicholas had said no, you would have fought for me and got him to say yes.”
I smile. That’s true. I liked Amelia’s conviction in her ideas—it’s something I wish I had myself. So I would have fought for her if Nicholas had said no.
“Anyway, I had another motive for stopping by this morning,” she says, a playful smile coming to her lips.
I lift a brow. “Oh? Do you need another jar of redcurrant and vanilla preserves?”
Amelia grins. She grabbed a jar of that last week, declaring it was one of the best preserves she had ever had.
“Believe it or not, I have not ploughed through that entire jar yet,” she says. “I wanted to know how things went in London.”
I smile as Noah comes to the forefront of my mind. “It went better than I ever could have expected. First, the event with Bella went well. The kids loved the art project I came up with, and that was very satisfying.”
“As it should be,” Amelia says. “Kids are a tough audience, so if you got them excited about the project, then you did an excellent job. But let’s go back before your event on Thursday. Like to Wednesday. And oh, you being spotted with Noah at Wisteria House and then leaving with him?”
“Oh, that,” I say, waving my hand dismissively in the air. “We shared an Uber. No biggie.”
“Violet!” Amelia cries, laughing. “Tell me!”
“Okay,” I say, as I am eager to talk about Noah. “I went out with an old friend of mine from my St. Andrews days. Aimee. We decided to go to Wisteria House, and out of the blue, I bumped into Camden. He happened to be with Kieran. And Noah.”
“Ooh!” Amelia says, her eyes sparkling. “What happened?”
“I confessed to Noah that I was an idiot,” I say quietly, an embarrassed flush heating my cheeks. “And I pushed him away out of fear.” I pause for a moment, studying her. “But I’m sure Nicholas already told you that.”
“Don’t be mad at him,” she says gently. “Nicholas was worried you had made a big mistake by not giving Noah a chance. He didn’t want you to regret it.”
“My brother has the annoying quality of being right about a lot of things,” I tease.
“Don’t I know it?” Amelia grins.
“Well, as you can tell from Dishing Weekly, we worked it out. We were set to have our first date on Friday, but I came down with an awful head cold after being exposed to the kids at school. I cancelled, but Noah wasn’t having that. He came over, brought me soup for dinner, and hung out with me at my family’s home in Kensington.”
Amelia’s face lights up in approval. “Oh, that’s so sweet!”
“I know, he’s so kind. And fearless. Noah wasn’t worried about catching my cold in the least.”
“So when are you going to see him again?”
I smile. “Wednesday. He’s rented a cottage on the coast so we can spend some time together and have a proper first date, not one with me sucking down lozenges and blowing my nose.”
“Really? That’s fantastic!”
“We need this time because he’s going to start training again soon, and then he’ll be off for the Stonebridge United Australia tour.”
“Oh, that’s right. I’m sure the season will be crazy once it starts.”
I don’t say anything. That’s something—if we hit it off this week—we’ll have to discuss. Logistically, if I don’t find a job in London this summer, I’ll most likely be the one having to visit him from Dorset, as Noah will be tied to Surrey, training if he’s not playing.
But I don’t feel like flittering away from that challenge or hardship.
This butterfly has found a place to land if my gut is leading me the right way.
“I asked Maria if she can pick up some of my shifts this week so I can spend time with Noah,” I say. “Just because I know time is going to become very precious in a matter of weeks. If she doesn’t want the shifts, I’ll see if Diane or Ellie wants them.”
“If neither one of them can take them, I can,” Amelia volunteers.
“No, Amelia, you aren’t here to fill in for me,” I say firmly. “You’re here to help Nicholas and learn about estate management.”
“Well, that means running a gift shop.”
I smile gratefully at her. “Okay, but before you say that, I have shifts on Saturday and Sunday.”
“So? It’s not like Nicholas won’t have a million things he can do whilst I’m working up here. So there you go. Whatever the girls won’t take, I will. Now you are free to explore things with a certain footballer.”
I reach across the till and squeeze her hand. “Thank you. Thank you so much. I don’t know how I can return the favour, but anything you need, ask me.”
Amelia squeezes my hand back. “I’m the one who owes you. As soon as you heard from me, you could have ignored my request to meet out of loyalty to Nicholas. But you didn’t.”
“My gut told me not to,” I explain simply. Then I grin. “And I’m so glad I didn’t.”
“Me, too. Hey, do you want to have lunch with me and Nicholas today? What time is Diane covering you?”
“Eleven-thirty, if you don’t mind eating then.”
“I’ll check with Nicholas, but I’m positive he won’t care.” Amelia glances down at her phone. “I suppose I should get going. I’ll text you in a bit about lunch.”
“Sounds good.” I say goodbye and watch her walk out the door.
I smile to myself. I like Amelia a lot. She’s a good person, and I love the fact that she’s bringing out a new side of Nicholas, too.
As in the adoring, I’m-obsessed-with-my-girlfriend side of my twin.
Okay. I glance back at the clock hanging over the door. The estate opens in about twenty minutes.
So that’s time I can brainstorm ideas for an art event I can hold here on the grounds.
I know I’m still in the ideas stage—and I also know this is where I excel. I’m great at ideas.
It’s the follow through that is … lacking.
This time it will be different,I think with determination as I open a blank Word document.
And I can’t wait to get started.