Epilogue
AUDREY, SIX MONTHS LATER
Audrey sat at the library window with a cosy throw across her legs and smiled at the efforts going on in the garden.
Geoffrey had insisted that an extra fir was needed, although the manor already had a huge Christmas tree in the hallway. Julie had spent ages decorating it and it twinkled a welcome whenever anyone came into the house.
Yet Geoffrey was adamant that the drawing room needed additional festive pizazz, hence the humongous tree that was currently being dragged through the snow towards the kitchen door.
‘Pivot!’ he yelled as they negotiated the gap in the wall that enclosed the herb garden. ‘Now!’
Sadly, pivoting proved useless because the tree clipped the wall, River dropped the thick trunk he was holding and fell backwards into a snowdrift.
When Clara immediately doubled up with the giggles, Audrey couldn’t help chuckling too. There was so much laughter at Brellasham Manor these days, and the sound of it had chased away any ghosts that remained of the past.
River pulled a screaming Clara into the snowdrift and they embraced, their breath frosty in the cold air.
‘Come on. No slacking on the job!’ called Geoffrey. He clapped his gloved hands together, startling a robin which had flown down to perch on the fallen tree. ‘You’ll be glad when the drawing room is looking marvellous.’
Audrey could still glimpse the serious little boy in Geoffrey, and he bore traces of Edwin that sometimes took her by surprise: a judging glance here, a barked order there.
But, overall, Geoffrey was far less like his father than he imagined himself to be. He was more open about his feelings – although that was a work in progress, according to those who knew him well. He was more gentle, and he was also more openly affectionate with his son. In fact, the more time father and son spent together, the better they seemed to get on.
Audrey watched as Geoffrey reached out his hand to pull River from the snowdrift. She had seen a change in her former stepson over the last few months, during her visits to this house. He seemed less rigid and brittle than the man she had first got to know.
As for River, his talk of returning to Australia had all but dried up and, seeing the way he looked at Clara, Audrey doubted that he would ever go back. Not for good, anyway.
Geoffrey had confided in her that he hoped his son might stay and take on the house when his time here was done, especially now it was in a much better state of repair thanks to the sale of the diamond necklace. And Audrey thought that he very well might.
Like her, River had fled Brellasham Manor, sure that he would never return. But here they both were, about to enjoy a family Christmas within its walls. It was strange how life turned out, thought Audrey, wrapping the throw more tightly around her legs.
What would Edwin think of it all? she wondered. Then, she shivered and turned her attention back to the garden. It didn’t matter what Edwin would think because he was no longer here to give his opinion. He was gone and the fear that he’d stoked in her had disappeared.
‘Hey, Audrey!’ Clara shouted, waving at her through the window. ‘Did you see River take a tumble?’
Audrey nodded and waved back at the wonderful young woman whose drive and enthusiasm were behind the manor’s new lease of life.
It had been her suggestion to build a children’s play area in the grounds for the youngsters of Heaven’s Cove, and also to provide new meeting facilities for organisations in and around the village. Hosting local weddings was another of her brainwaves that she was currently pursuing.
Geoffrey had been reluctant at first but he’d gradually come around to Clara’s assertion that the manor should play a bigger role in the future of Heaven’s Cove.
‘You should pass on your privilege,’ she’d told him, shutting down his protest that trying to stop a massive, grand old house from falling down was actually quite a hardship. ‘Tell that to Claude, who lives in a two-up, two-down with dodgy electrics,’ had done the trick.
So, from next month, local groups could book the manor’s old boot room, apple store and scullery which had been converted into meeting rooms, and the play area would open in the spring. Audrey often saw children with their faces pressed to the manor gates, watching excitedly as their new swings, slides and climbing frames were erected.
Tourist visits to the manor were also climbing after she and River had persuaded Geoffrey to let people enjoy the house that he and his family had kept to themselves for generations.
Poor Geoffrey. Audrey chuckled. The ‘squire’ was being dragged into the twenty-first century whether he liked it or not. Though on balance, she thought that he rather approved.
Audrey got slowly to her feet, folded the throw across the back of the chair and tucked her book under her arm. She was re-reading Rebecca and would take it up to her bedroom so she could continue with it when she woke tomorrow with the dawn.
It was funny. She hadn’t read the book for decades, not since she’d fled this house in 1957. But Clara had given her back her old copy and she was remembering why she’d once loved the book so much.
‘Are you all right, Audrey?’ asked Julie as the old woman walked slowly through the hallway.
‘I’m very well, thank you,’ Audrey replied, alarmed to see that Julie was adding yet more ornaments to the Christmas tree which was already festooned.
‘Will you be going to the Christmas fair on the village green?’ Julie enquired, concentrating on fixing a glass snowflake to an inch of bare branch. ‘Everyone will be very pleased to see you.’
‘Possibly,’ said Audrey, gripping the bannister and beginning to climb the stairs. She’d become very popular in Heaven’s Cove once the locals had realised who she was. Word had spread, and her story was proving quite a draw. She’d even been featured in a national publication, in an article that signposted various support groups and helpful information now available to people experiencing domestic abuse. That had pleased her.
She’d thought that Geoffrey would baulk at Edwin being shown in such a critical light. But after thinking about it and speaking to River, he’d simply told her: ‘It’s your story to tell and, anyway, if my father had behaved better there would be no criticism to level.’
That was when Audrey had known for sure that Geoffrey was far more like his mother than his father.
On reaching the top of the stairs, she stopped for a moment to catch her breath. She would have to take up Geoffrey’s offer to set up a bedroom for her on the ground floor before too long, but for now she would push herself.
She was about to go to her bedroom when she had second thoughts and, leaving her book behind, she climbed even more slowly to the next floor. She rarely came up here, but there was something she wanted to see.
Audrey walked along the landing and reached the door to the third floor. The door was no longer locked but she felt no need to go up there.
Clara and River planned on opening up the time-slip rooms to tourists, with her beautiful 1950s clothes as the star attraction, and she was fine with that. It would bring in regular income that would keep the manor going once the money from the diamonds ran out.
Maybe one day she would climb the stairs and walk the rooms that she’d inhabited long ago. But for now she was happier to stay away. Perhaps a few lingering ghosts remained that it was best not to rouse. She smiled at her overactive imagination but passed the door as quickly as she could and walked on to the gilt-framed portrait.
‘Hello,’ she said before glancing around her.
People would be concerned if they heard her talking to a painting of herself. But Geoffrey, River and Clara were still in the garden, and Julie was weighing down the tree in the hall.
‘Look what’s become of us,’ she said to the woman in the portrait. ‘You were so scared and unhappy when you sat for the artist in your fine clothes. You couldn’t see a way out. But I’m here to tell you that Violet and her husband will come up trumps and you will see Geoffrey again. I’m here to tell you that everything will be all right.’
With tears in her eyes, Audrey turned and made her way along the landing, towards the people waiting for her downstairs.
***
If you loved walking down the streets of Heaven’s Cove, and were enchanted by Clara and River’s story, you’ll adore New Starts and Cherry Tarts at the Cosy Kettle by Liz Eeles. In a beautiful Cotswolds village, Callie is looking forward to a new beginning – but her plans go awry when she bumps into an old flame.