29. River
29
River was pacing up and down the hallway, across the Victorian floor tiles that were gleaming after a Mrs N polish. He ran a hand through his hair, which was still damp from the shower, and pulled down his Sydney Opera House T-shirt.
He wasn’t looking forward to the next five minutes, and only hoped that Clara would arrive in time to help take the heat.
Would she turn up at all? he fleetingly wondered. After all, she hadn’t bothered on the day he left this house for Australia. Though perhaps that had been for the best. His father and Clara watching him and his mother disappear down the gravel drive would have been too much for his adolescent self to bear.
‘She’ll be here,’ he murmured, keeping an eye on the stairs in case Bartie put in an appearance. He was probably still in bed, dreaming up another amoral get-rich-quick scheme.
River felt his whole body tense at the thought of Bartie’s double dealings and his manhandling of Clara. He’d been prepared to hit him last night if he hadn’t let her go and, though River wasn’t a violent man, a part of him wished he had taken a swing.
‘I’m not late, am I?’ Clara hurried through the front door, which was flung open to let in a warm breeze. ‘Mum’s a bag of nerves about what’s going to happen once her job and home are gone and she needed to let off steam. It was hard to get away.’
‘No, you’re fine,’ River assured her. She was wearing a pink summer dress and white sandals which accentuated her tan. He smiled at her. ‘Thanks for coming, especially if your mum needed you.’
‘That’s all right, though I can’t say I’m looking forward to this.’ Clara nervously fiddled with a shoulder strap on her dress. ‘Your dad’s going to be really upset.’
‘I know, but it’s better that he knows the truth. It would break his heart to find out about Bartie’s deception once the grounds have been turned into a building site. So’ – he felt his shoulders tense – ‘shall we beard the lion in his den? What?’ he asked when Clara grinned.
‘Nothing. It’s just that’s what you used to say when we were teenagers and you had to speak to your dad about something difficult.’
‘That was how it felt then, and how it feels now. Come on. Let’s get it over with, shall we?’
He resisted the urge to grab Clara’s hand before going to the door of his father’s study and rapping on it sharply. There was a barked ‘Come in,’ and, with a final glance at Clara, he pushed it open.
His father was sitting at the walnut desk that had been placed near the window. A Tiffany-style lamp sat on the desk, along with a leather blotter, two fountain pens, and a small laptop with its lid closed.
‘You both look very serious, and it’s rather early.’ Geoffrey swung from side to side in the leather chair behind his desk. ‘Is this a delegation?’
‘Not as such, but we need to talk to you about something important,’ said River, choosing not to faff about with small talk. The sooner this was done, the better.
Geoffrey raised an eyebrow. ‘That does sound rather serious.’
‘It is, and I don’t think there’s a way of broaching it without upsetting you.’
His father began rolling one of the fountain pens under his fingers, back and forth across the blotter. ‘Is it do with Bartie, by any chance?’
‘Yes, I’m afraid so.’ He exchanged a look with Clara, who was biting her lip. ‘Why do you think it’s about him?’
Geoffrey stopped pen-rolling. ‘He came to see me last night. Late. I was in my bedroom, asleep actually, when he knocked on my door and said he had to speak to me urgently.’
River groaned because Bartie had beaten them to it. But what story had he spun? ‘What did he say that was so urgent it couldn’t wait until morning?’ he asked.
‘He told me he’d just discovered that Hannah had plans to build houses in the grounds of the manor and?—’
‘Just discovered?’ interrupted Clara.
Geoffrey gave her a cool stare. ‘That’s what he told me. He’d just discovered it and he had to tell me immediately so I’d be fully informed when making a decision on the house. He said his conscience wouldn’t allow him to do otherwise.’
He ignored River’s quiet snort of derision and continued. ‘So I thanked him for letting me know and said I would think about how this information changed the situation. Anyway, that’s what he told me and that’s how things stand right now.’
River thought for a moment, feeling totally outflanked by his cousin.
‘But that’s not what happened,’ declared Clara.
‘I’m sure that it is,’ Geoffrey replied in a low voice.
‘No, it’s not because Bartie already?—’
She stopped speaking and frowned at River, who had just nudged his foot hard against hers. She was about to tell his father everything, but River had changed his mind.
The two of them could insist that Bartie had known all along and Clara could repeat what she’d heard his cousin and Hannah discussing the day before. But his father suddenly looked so done in, it would almost feel like putting the boot in. Bartie was family and Geoffrey had trusted him. What good would be achieved by telling an old man, mourning the imminent loss of his home, that he had been deceived? What good would come from making him face that realisation when he clearly preferred to think otherwise?
River shook his head slightly and, when he caught Clara’s eye, a look of understanding passed between them.
‘OK,’ he said. ‘If that’s how things currently stand, I expect that makes Hannah’s potential offer on the manor a no-go as far as you’re concerned.’
‘Yes indeed. I won’t be accepting any offers from that woman.’ Geoffrey stood up, walked to the window and gazed out at the moors rising behind the house. ‘But I woke early and have been considering my situation.’
He turned back from the window and pinched the bridge of his nose. ‘There will be other offers from developers, but all of them will see the grounds of this house as prime building land. Of course they will. They’ll want to make as big a return on their outlay as possible. My father would have understood that from the outset and he wouldn’t be impressed that I’ve been deluding myself.’
He swallowed. ‘You don’t want this house, River, and I do understand why. It’s not financially viable, and you have another life far away. But I am too old and worn out to keep the house on for much longer and I’ve come to terms with the fact that there’s no way to save it or the grounds or, I’m afraid, your mother’s cottage, Clara.
‘Brellasham Manor will be turned into apartments and its grounds and gardens will be bulldozed to make way for housing. I’m afraid that’s practically inevitable. My father would say that’s simply the way that business works, while also hating me for being so inept at business that I have lost the family home.’
He raised a hand when River went to speak. ‘No, there’s nothing more to be said. I know you must be keen to return to Australia but I’d be grateful if you could organise visits from a few speculative developers before you fly away. Developers who are trustworthy and truthful.’
River nodded. ‘Of course, and I can stay to help with the visits.’
Geoffrey gave a weak smile before walking back to his desk and sinking into his chair. ‘Thank you but that won’t be necessary. And now I have a number of issues to deal with so I’d be grateful if you could leave me in peace to get on with them.’
When neither River nor Clara moved, he added briskly, ‘I’m sure you both have other places to be and I certainly have a great deal to do. Good morning.’ He picked up a letter lying on his desk and began to read it.
Without another word, Clara and River left the study and walked out of the house and into the gardens. The flowers seemed extra bright this morning, as though they knew what was coming and wanted to display their beauty while they could.
‘That didn’t go quite the way I’d imagined,’ said Clara, whose face had paled beneath her tan.
‘It’s shown us that Bartie is even more of a snake than we thought he was,’ said River, wiping a hand across his face. ‘He knew we’d tell my father so he got in first and put all the blame on Hannah.’
‘Or, as he put it, told the truth because his conscience wouldn’t allow him to do otherwise’ – Clara rolled her eyes – ‘and your dad believed him.’
‘He wanted to believe him. He’s known Bartie since he was born and thinks of him as…’ As the son he never had was on the tip of River’s tongue but he couldn’t say it. ‘He thinks of Bartie as an upstanding Brellasham, successful and loyal. And I didn’t have the heart to disabuse him of that. He looked done in already.’
‘Yeah, he did and you were right to stop me from telling him. Unfortunately, Bartie is very good at pulling the wool over people’s eyes and manipulating them.’
‘He’s an expert.’ River gave a sardonic laugh. ‘I’m really beginning to wish I had punched him last night.’
Clara nudged her arm against his. ‘Talking of which, thank you again for sticking up for me.’
‘Any time, Clo.’
He had a sudden urge to close the gap between them and kiss her on the cheek. No, not on the cheek. He stared at her mouth and then looked away. The last time they’d kissed it hadn’t ended well.
Clara cleared her throat. ‘So what happens now, with your dad and this house?’
‘I guess he’s right that, realistically, the manor needs to be sold and what happens to it after that is out of his hands.’
‘So Bartie wins,’ said Clara glumly.
‘Not really. My father seems determined not to sell to Hannah, which means that Bartie will miss out on his commission. So all of his scheming and conniving will have been for nothing.’
‘There is that. But it’s cold comfort when your family will no longer live at Brellasham Manor, my mum will be out of a job and a home, and these beautiful grounds will become an overpriced housing estate.’
Cold comfort, indeed, but River tried to harden his heart. ‘It’s sad but that’s life, I’m afraid. Things change but life goes on.’
‘Yours in Australia and mine here in Heaven’s Cove. Well, until Mum and I have to move somewhere else.’
River nodded, realising how much he would miss Clara after he left for Australia and she and her mother moved on to who knows where. He’d got used to being without her sixteen years ago and he’d have to get used to her absence all over again.
‘I was thinking about the charity fete,’ said Clara, pulling her shoulders back. ‘Realistically, it’s going to be the last one ever held here so we should make it a real celebration of all the money that’s been raised over the years, and the link there’s always been between Heaven’s Cove and its inhabitants and the manor and the Brellasham family.’
‘I’m up for that.’
‘I’m not sure your dad will be.’
‘I’m sure he can cope with an influx of local people one last time.’
Clara glanced up at River through her eyelashes. ‘Will you still be around for the fete?’
That was a few days away and he really should get home to Australia after arranging for prospective buyers to visit. He was beginning to realise that the longer he delayed his departure, the harder it was going to be. But he smiled at the woman he’d known since she was a tomboy with scabbed knees, and made a decision.
‘Yeah, I’ll still be here. My dad needs me.’
Clara opened her mouth to speak but she was interrupted by the ringing of her phone in her dress pocket.
‘Sorry,’ she mouthed, glancing at her phone screen and frowning before answering the call. ‘Yes?…Yes, that’s me.’ She listened for a moment, her brow creased. ‘That’s very helpful. Thank you very much for getting back to me. Goodbye.’
‘Is everything all right? Who was that?’
‘It was the residential home in Dorking,’ said Clara quietly. ‘I left a message asking if they still had a resident called Violet Winter and if we could visit her. That was a care assistant returning my call who said that yes, Violet is still with them and visiting hours are between ten and six every day.’
‘OK.’ River brushed his fingers across the petals of a pink pelargonium. ‘Then it looks as if we’re going on a day trip to Surrey.’
‘Are you sure?’ Clara asked, her eyes opening wide.
‘No, but I’m not sure about anything these days.’
Clara laughed as if he’d made a joke and River smiled even though he was being deadly serious. Everything had seemed fixed in Australia. Sorted. Settled. But his life had been in flux from the moment he’d first set foot back in Brellasham Manor.
There were ghosts from the past swirling around this place. The ghost of abusive Edwin, whose influence continued to stifle his repressed son; the ghost of the person River had once been – and now it seemed that he and Clara were going in search of another.