28. Clara
28
An orange sun was sinking into a silver sea, blazing a path across the swelling water. Puffs of cloud on the horizon were a vivid pink and purple.
‘Completely beautiful,’ whispered Clara, who was sitting on a ruined wall of the castle, swinging her legs. She loved this time of day, when shadows began to lengthen across the stones and the tourists had gone. It was easy to imagine the people who’d lived here long ago as the gap between then and now became wafer-thin.
But this evening, she felt too jittery to relax and enjoy the view. Too let down and deceived. She tapped her fingers urgently against the stone and berated herself for the hundredth time for being taken in by flattery and lies.
She’d been out for hours because she couldn’t face going home. She’d texted her mum to say she’d be out for tea, and had eaten in a local café. But it was getting dark and she couldn’t stay away from Brellasham Manor for much longer. She would have to face people soon and tell them the truth.
When two hands suddenly covered her eyes, Clara let out a scream and jumped to her feet.
‘Steady on, Clara. It’s only me,’ said Bartie, who had sneaked up behind her.
‘That was stupid,’ spat Clara, her heart hammering in her chest. ‘What are you doing creeping up on people like that?’
‘It was only a joke! I didn’t mean to make you jump. Would a hug with me help?’ He opened his arms wide.
‘No, I’m fine,’ muttered Clara, taking a step back.
‘Well, you don’t look fine,’ said Bartie, his arms dropping to his sides. ‘Look, I admit that probably wasn’t the best way to announce my arrival. I wasn’t trying to scare you.’
‘Well, you did.’ Clara’s heart rate was beginning to slow down. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘River and I took a walk into Heaven’s Cove, seeing as there’s not a lot to do at the manor, and I thought I’d see if you were here…the maiden in the castle. We saw your mum as we were leaving the estate and she said you were in the village.’
‘But how did you know this was where I’d be?’
Bartie sniffed. ‘I didn’t, but River and I were discussing our teenage days and he mentioned that this was a favourite place for both of you. He said the two of you used to come up here and smoke illicit cigarettes. Not that you ever invited me.’
‘You’d never have come with us anyway because we weren’t cool enough for you.’
‘That’s not the case,’ said Bartie, even though it was completely true. He gave Clara one of his megawatt smiles. ‘I must say, you looked very peaceful sitting on the wall, like the queen of your domain.’
‘Until you scared me half to death.’
‘Which I’ve apologised for already.’ He ran a hand through his hair. ‘Come on, Clara. Don’t be grumpy with me. I sneaked away from River so that you and I can, you know, enjoy a little time together as the sun sets.’
He gave Clara his sexiest wink which didn’t have the effect he desired. Once upon a time, Bartie winking at her would have made her knees wobble but now it just put her teeth on edge.
‘Where is River?’ she asked.
‘He went into the pub to get us both a drink.’
‘And you just walked off and left him?’
‘He’ll wait, like the good little boy he always was, and we can both go and join him. Not for a while though, hey?’ He sat on the wall and gestured for her to sit next to him.
Clara stayed exactly where she was. ‘Where’s Hannah?’
‘She left a couple of hours ago, before the mad tourist rush to vacate the village. She was very impressed with the manor and its potential for development. So much so, I’m pretty sure she’ll soon be making Geoffrey an offer that he can’t refuse.’
‘Great.’ Clara sounded flat and unimpressed but Bartie was too busy brushing dust from his suede loafers to notice. ‘What did she have to say about the grounds and Geoffrey’s beautiful gardens that he’s poured his heart and soul into?’
Bartie looked up from his shoes. ‘Oh, she loved them too. How could she not be impressed? Geoffrey has done such a fantastic job over the years. Well, his gardener has.’
‘Exactly. So it would be a terrible shame if they were destroyed.’
‘It would, but they won’t be. Hannah only has plans for the manor itself, which is what Geoffrey wants.’
‘So what about Mum’s cottage?’ Clara asked, fascinated by how easily lies were tripping from Bartie’s tongue.
‘Yeah, that’s all sorted and fine,’ said Bartie airily. He patted the wall beside him. ‘Stop talking and get yourself over here.’
‘Did Hannah enjoy her Pimm’s?’
‘I dunno. I think so.’ Bartie laughed. ‘Stop talking about Hannah, will you? You’re killing the mood.’
‘Did you enjoy your pint, tucked away in the corner of the pub garden?’
‘Yeah, it was OK, though I prefer—’ Bartie stopped talking and began to blink very quickly. ‘How do you know where we were in the garden? Have the Heaven’s Cove spies been out in force?’
When Clara said nothing, Bartie hopped off the wall and walked over. ‘I don’t know what you’re getting at, Clo.’ He ran his hand down her arm. ‘You seem very stern this evening.’
Clara watched his fingers sliding over her sun-warmed skin. ‘I overheard you and Hannah at The Smugglers Haunt.’
He gave a short laugh and dropped his hand. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘I came into the garden to find you because I felt that something wasn’t right and I heard what you and Hannah were saying.’
‘Were you spying on us? That’s not very nice.’ Bartie’s voice had taken on a harsher tone and Clara swallowed.
‘It wasn’t spying. Not exactly. I was looking for you and saw you behind the trellis but then I heard the two of you discussing the sale.’
‘What exactly do you think you heard?’ Bartie’s voice was low and level.
‘I heard you both talking about keeping Geoffrey in the dark about Hannah’s real plans for the house and grounds. Yes, the manor will be turned into luxury apartments, but the grounds and gardens and my mum’s cottage will be bulldozed to make way for an estate of…what was it? Executive-style homes.’
Bartie’s smile had faded like the dying sun. He ran a hand through his fringe. ‘You’ve misunderstood what we were saying.’
‘I don’t think so. I heard you both very clearly.’
‘From behind the trellis?’
‘That’s right,’ said Clara, pulling her shoulders back for courage. She was shivering, even though the evening was balmy.
‘Honestly, you’re over-reacting,’ said Bartie, his tone an odd mixture of annoyed and conciliatory. He waved away a midge that was buzzing around his face. ‘It’s not that bad.’
‘Yes, it is! You’re lying to everyone, Bartie. OK, I can understand you lying to me about Mum’s cottage and claiming we can still hold the charity fete in the grounds each year. You don’t owe me or Mum anything. But Geoffrey and River are family. You often stayed with Geoffrey when you were a teenager and your parents were separating. And River tried to help you, even though you treated him with disdain half the time. So you do owe them.’
Bartie stared at Clara for a moment, his eyes cold. Then he said: ‘Have you spoken about this to Geoffrey?’
‘Not yet. I was getting my head around it, but I will tell him. I have to, even though it will upset him.’ Clara rubbed at her eyes. ‘Do you know, I’ve been sitting here, racking my brains about why you would deceive us and all I can think is that it’s for money. You told Geoffrey you were facilitating the deal out of the goodness of your heart, because he’s family. But I’m guessing your girlfriend is going to give you a hefty commission from the sale.’
‘She’s not my girlfriend,’ said Bartie, stepping closer. ‘You’ve got completely the wrong end of the stick, sweetheart. Hannah is simply a friend of a friend, an acquaintance I hardly know.’
‘You know her well enough to put your hand on her thigh and talk about the first weekend you spent together.’
Bartie stood statue-still for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then his lips curled into a smile that left the chill in his eyes untouched.
‘Oh, Clara. You’ve got this all wrong. That’s what I’ll tell Geoffrey, and who is he more likely to believe? Me, his blood relative, or you, the housekeeper’s daughter who would say anything to save the manor that she likes to think of as her own? I mean, the Netherways don’t have a great reputation. I heard on the village grapevine that one of your relatives was done for stealing jewellery from a member of the Brellasham family.’
‘It was a false accusation. She was exonerated,’ said Clara defiantly, although she felt like crying. ‘And River will believe me.’
Bartie tilted his head to one side. ‘Will he, though? You were thick as thieves back when we were kids, but then he left and ghosted you, basically. And now he has another life in Australia while you’ve hardly moved on at all. Why would he believe you?’
‘Because he doesn’t trust you,’ said Clara, trying to keep the wobble out of her voice.
‘Of course he trusts me. He looks up to me as his older cousin who, let’s face it, has always been way more savvy than him. Plus, I got in touch with him about his old man’s financial worries because I care about Geoffrey.’
‘But you care about your bank balance more. Am I right? Brellasham Manor is River’s birthright and I don’t suppose Geoffrey would agree to sell it without his son’s blessing. That’s why you had to get him involved.’
The sun was almost gone and Bartie’s face was dark with shadow.
‘Look, Clara,’ he said, his voice now purely conciliatory. ‘I should have told Geoffrey the truth about what Hannah’s got in mind but, at the end of the day, he’ll have the money to fund his old age and he’ll soon forget the manor. To be honest, any developer willing to pay decent money is going to want to build in the grounds too. We’re talking about prime land in a sought-after village with marketable charm.’
Clara ran a hand across her face. ‘Maybe. But a different developer might want to build homes that local people can afford. Not executive homes beyond the reach of people like me.’
‘Is that what this is all about? You haven’t got any money and you’d like some? I’m sure we could come to some arrangement so you get a cut of my commission.’
Clara’s mouth fell open. ‘Do you really think that I’d sell out River and Geoffrey for money? That I’d be fine with the manor being ripped apart and Geoffrey’s gardens and my mum’s home destroyed, as long as I benefited from the sale?’ Clara began to walk away. ‘You don’t know me at all.’
‘Clara!’ Bartie called after her. ‘Come back.’ He grabbed hold of her arm and pulled her round.
‘Let go of me,’ said Clara, her breath catching in her throat. His fingers were tight on her bare skin.
‘No, we need to discuss this and work out a way forward.’
‘There is no way forward other than telling Geoffrey what you’re up to.’ She tried to pull her arm away but Bartie’s grip was like a vice. ‘Please let go of me.’
‘You heard what Clara said,’ said a voice from the shadows. ‘Let go of her arm.’
When River stepped into view, Bartie laughed. ‘Or what?’
‘Or I’ll make you.’
‘You and whose army?’ Bartie sneered, still holding on tightly to her arm.
‘Just me,’ said River, his voice low and controlled.
‘Are you going to fight with me?’
Bartie sounded amused, and Clara noticed the muscles in River’s jaw tighten.
‘I’d rather not but I will if I have to.’
‘You were always sweet on Clara but I’m afraid she was always far more interested in me – still is. Is that why you’re coming to her rescue? So you can play the big saviour and hope she’ll overlook what an idiot you are and swoon in your arms?’
Clara had heard enough. She aimed a kick at Bartie’s shin and wrenched her arm free.
‘Ow!’ he complained, bending over to rub his leg. ‘What did you do that for?’
‘To shut you up, mainly, and I don’t want any fighting.’
‘There wouldn’t have been any,’ replied Bartie sulkily, sounding like a teenager again. ‘Honestly, River, this is all nothing but a misunderstanding. Clara’s got the wrong end of the stick and now she’s trying to cause trouble. I’ve had enough and I’m going back to the manor. Are you coming?’
‘No,’ said River.
Bartie hesitated. ‘I think you should come back with me.’
‘I’m not going anywhere with you.’
River sat down on the wall where Clara had been sitting watching the sunset only ten minutes earlier. But a lot had changed since then.
‘Right. Suit yourself, then.’ Bartie looked at Clara through the deepening gloom and said quietly: ‘Have a think about what I suggested. You know it makes sense.’
‘When did he become such an arse?’ asked River as Bartie vanished into the darkness.
Clara sat down beside River on the wall that was rapidly cooling now the sun had dipped below the horizon. ‘I’m beginning to think he always was.’
‘But what’s he so uptight about?’
‘I overheard him and Hannah, his developer contact who’s actually a girlfriend, at the pub this afternoon.’
Clara outlined what she’d heard while River listened in silence, his face in profile as he stared out to sea. The water, no longer on fire from the sun’s setting rays, was changing from silver to blue-black.
‘I was going to tell you and Geoffrey first thing tomorrow morning,’ she said, after relating the whole tale, ‘but I was ambushed by Bartie out here and then you came along.’
River squeezed his hands into fists. ‘I knew I didn’t much like him but I kept telling myself that I was being unfair. He’s my cousin and we go back a long way. I know he can be arrogant and annoying at times, but I never thought he’d try to screw over my father, who’s always been good to him.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘My father needs to know but I’ll have to tell him tomorrow. He’s exhausted after Hannah’s visit and told me he was heading for bed early. Will you come with me first thing tomorrow morning to break the news?’
‘Of course I will.’
‘Thanks.’ River glanced round at Clara. ‘What did Bartie mean when he said “have a think about what I suggested” as he left?’
‘He suggested that I keep quiet and go along with his and Hannah’s plan and, in return, he’d cut me into his commission from the sale. But I could never deceive you or your father like that. You have to believe me.’
River caught her gaze and held it. ‘Of course I believe you. I’d trust you with my life, Clara.’
‘Yet you cut me out of your life as soon as you reached Australia.’
She wanted to add: Even after you’d kissed me, but the words remained unspoken. Today had already been enough of a blow to her self-confidence without factoring into the mix a kiss apparently so dreadful and regretted that the kisser had felt it best to erase the kissee from his life completely.
She probably shouldn’t have said anything at all to River about their estrangement. Not when he was reeling from Bartie’s deception. But it had been an upsetting day and she didn’t feel particularly in control right now.
River shifted beside her. Then he said: ‘I regret not keeping in touch. I was fifteen and an idiot. And I’m sorry if Bartie has broken your heart.’
‘What makes you think he has?’
‘I saw you kissing him the other day on the village green.’
‘So you were there. I thought I caught sight of you.’ A thought suddenly struck her. ‘Did Bartie tell you that he’d changed the time of the picnic from one o’clock to twelve fifteen?’
‘He did not,’ said River drily. ‘That detail must have slipped his mind.’
‘What an absolute?—’
Clara’s shoulders slumped as it became even more clear that she’d been manipulated from the start. At best, she’d been a distraction for Bartie and, at worst, a potential obstacle to be managed.
‘Also, have you got a girlfriend back in Australia?’ she asked.
‘No, why? Ah.’ River breathed out slowly. ‘Another of Bartie’s lies, I suppose.’
Clara nodded miserably. ‘Go on then. Aren’t you going to say “I told you so” now it’s turned out that Bartie is a nasty piece of work, just like you warned me?’
‘Nope. You’re not the first person he’s taken in with his charm and hideously fabulous good looks.’
Clara could have kissed him then, for being kind. But instead she asked: ‘How did you find us this evening?’
‘When Bartie went AWOL, I waited at the pub for a while before realising he’d probably sneaked off to see you. I’m a total moron and had let slip where you might be. So I came to find you. Basically, I was worried about you and with good reason. He shouldn’t have grabbed you like that.’
‘Would you have fought him, if he hadn’t let me go?’
River laughed ruefully. ‘That was a bit gung-ho of me. Have you seen his muscles? He could probably floor me with one punch. But yes, in answer to your question, I would have fought for you, Clo. That’s what friends do.’
Clara leaned against him in the darkness and he slipped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close. They were friends again.
A bright moon was rising and they sat for a while, watching its light glint on the water.
‘I have some news,’ said Clara as one of the bats that roosted in the castle keep swooped above their heads. ‘About Audrey. I know you said that I should let the whole thing drop but, well…’
‘Let me guess, you didn’t.’ River let go of Clara and shifted round until they were face to face. ‘That doesn’t surprise me. You always were very?—’
‘Single-minded?’
‘I was going to say bloody-minded but, yeah, single-minded will do.’
Clara grinned. ‘It’s just that I think I worked out what Audrey planned to call herself if she managed to reach the boat and start a new life somewhere else.’
Sitting there on the floor in the ballroom, it had all seemed hopeless until Bartie had barged in. He’d been offended that she’d apparently rather read her copy of Rebecca than spend the afternoon in his bedroom. But his flippant résumé of the story outlined on the novel’s back cover had sparked an idea that Clara couldn’t wait to explore.
River blinked in the fading light. ‘How on earth did you work out Audrey’s new name?’
‘She told me, in the final entry in her diary: Can a flower bloom in the snow? Only time will tell. It didn’t make any sense but then I wondered if she was referring to the new life she was hoping to build under a new identity and only time will tell if it would work.’
‘OK, I get that, but what about can a flower bloom in the snow? How does that tell you what she planned to call herself?’
‘“Flower” was easy – perhaps, as a reminder of my gran’s help, she’d choose the name Violet. But I couldn’t work out what her surname might be. I tried searching online for people with her maiden name but that came to nothing. Then I tried using the place where she was born as a surname but it turns out there aren’t any Violet Dorkings online. Or, at least, I couldn’t find any.’
‘Dorking?’
‘It’s a town in Surrey. So then I searched online for her birth certificate and tried using her mum’s maiden name instead, which still didn’t work. But then I had a brainwave.’
‘Don’t keep me in the dark! What was the surname that she chose?’
Clara smiled. ‘It was Winter, after Maxim de Winter, who’s a main character in one of her favourite books, Rebecca. Bartie read out the blurb on the back of the book and, when he mentioned his name, it all fell into place. Can a flower bloom in the snow? Violet Winter.’
River sat in what Clara assumed to be stunned silence for a moment. Then he said slowly, ‘O-K. Let’s say Audrey did make it to the boat and she did choose Violet Winter as her new name. Where is she now?’
‘Well.’ Clara swallowed. ‘That’s the thing. I think I might have found her. At first, searching for Violet Winter took me to loads of horticultural websites, which was frustrating. Anyway, I drilled down a little deeper and I found a Violet Winter who’s living in a care home for older people. She was mentioned in a local newspaper article about an event held at the home.’
Clara thought back to that moment of revelation. Her muscles were aching from sitting on the hard ballroom floor, but all pains were forgotten when she read the article and Violet’s name leapt out.
‘That’s amazing, Clara, but there must be other Violet Winters of around the same age Audrey would be now if she’d survived. I expect some of them are living in care homes, too.’
‘But probably not in a care home in Dorking.’
River’s jaw dropped. ‘Where she was born. Do you think she went back home?’
‘Maybe not at first but perhaps she wants to end her days somewhere familiar, where her life began. What do you reckon? I’m sorry to land all of this on you but it was such a huge secret to keep and, to be honest, I don’t know what to do next.’
Clara waited, hardly daring to breathe as River went quiet. If he told her to forget Audrey and move on, this time she would. For his and his father’s sake, she would let the matter rest now she believed that Audrey had been found. The enigmatic woman in the portrait had survived that traumatic night and hopefully forged a happy new life for herself, far from Edwin’s fists. That was enough.
River suddenly took hold of her hand as stars scattered across the inky sky twinkled high above. ‘I think, Clara, that there’s only one thing to do next, and that’s to go to Dorking and see if Violet Winter is the woman you think she is.’