Chapter 2
two
HENRY
The twenty-first of December was finally upon me.
Being handed the keys for Bayview Manor felt as monumental as the first time my parents trusted me with a house key.
Albeit, I had no intention of stealing my bosses’ vodka and watering it down to hope they wouldn’t notice and dry humping girls on their sofa. Shame really, I was clearly far more interesting at seventeen than at present.
‘Front door, side door, cellar. The rest of the keys are in the office lockbox if you need to open the other entrances. You have the greenhouse and outhouse ones already.’ Lord Leadbetter, or Fenton as he preferred us to call him, dropped the keys into my palm with a resounding clunk.
If someone pounced on me in the dark, I didn’t doubt they could double as a medieval-looking weapon.
‘Don’t worry, I’ll look after the place for you,’ I reassured the older man, hitting him with a sunny smile that I hoped would assuage his apprehension.
Usually, their butler took the helm, but he’d had to go home to look after his ailing mother, so they were entrusting the place to me.
I had little doubt about how the outside world perceived me.
Silly, goofy, smiley, a bit of an airhead.
I’d always found that life was a little less hard when attacking it with happiness.
But it didn’t mean I couldn’t step up. I worked hard and always surpassed expectations.
Hell, making people happy had become my favourite pastime.
‘Oh, Fenton, stop havering. The car’s waiting.’ Lady Leadbetter swept through the hall in her ever grandiose style, planting a lipstick-marking kiss on my cheek. ‘Look after Merv for me, won’t you?’
‘He’ll keep me right, don’t worry.’ I laughed as Lady L.’s eyes glittered.
‘Don’t forget his Christmas basket. It’ll arrive on Christmas Eve.’ She stood by the open door and shivered.
‘You’ll spoil that donkey.’ Gooseflesh danced up my arms as a cold wind whipped through the door.
‘I think it’s too late for that,’ Fenton said with a roll of his eyes.
He wasn’t wrong. Their kids had grown up and left home, making their way in places far more exciting than Otterleigh Bay, so Lady L.
adopted creatures to fill the void in her very empty home.
Merv the donkey. Rascal the Great Dane. Numerous mousing cats.
Rascal had been relocated for the week to stop him from sitting on the incoming client’s knees and drooling on their supper, but Merv and I would be buddies.
I could sneak out and have coffee with him whenever things in the house got too wild.
I had little doubt that with high-paying customers and highly paid planners and designers, things would become frustrating real fast once the chaos descended.
So I’d hide out in his stable like some nativity of avoidance.
Lady L. gripped a suitcase so small it could only be ornamental. A courier had already escorted their luggage ahead of them.
‘Have a fantastic time, you’ll have a blast catching up with your kids.’ I followed them out and held out an arm to escort Lady L. down the stone front steps. She gave a wicked grin as she gripped my bicep.
‘Stop fondling the staff, Dear,’ Fenton groaned, the noise laced with humour. ‘Save all that for me.’
Lord Leadbetter tutted at him. ‘You’ve got the run of the place, son. Try not to burn it down while we’re gone.’
‘You have my word,’ I said, which made Lady L. sigh into her scarf and mutter.
They bundled into the car, waving as though they were heading off for a world tour, not just two weeks in England.
I stood on the front steps jingling my briefly inherited keys while the wind gripped me in ghostly, icy fingers.
Bayview Manor stood silently behind me, all grand architecture and ancient stone.
‘Well,’ I told the house, ‘just you and me for a bit. Until chaos descends.’
The manor creaked in what I chose to interpret as agreement.
I took a quick tour of the manor to ensure everything was in order.
Fires stocked with wood and kindling, Christmas trees topped up with water and ready for the whirlwind of decor, and wreaths fluffed to accentuate their fullness.
The orangery smelt gloriously citrus, the warmth cranked up to fight the growing chill outdoors.
The boiler purred like a satisfied cat, well fed and content.
Walking through the quiet halls enveloped me in the scent of wood polish and pine from the abundance of real garlands and trees.
Six trees.
The main Christmas tree stood in the entrance hall, twelve feet tall and fat as could fit in the double stairwell.
It lurked sad and empty as it awaited adornment.
I could picture it glittering, stuffed with baubles and trinkets, tinsel, and bows.
Our Christmas tree at home was a mix of bought ornaments and years’ worth of poorly made items brought home from school or clubs.
Mum hung them up every year as though they were the most precious decorations in the box.
God, I fucking love Christmas.
The cheesy songs, the twinkling everything, the rich food and silly games.
It pained me to miss it with my family, but since my siblings married and had children, it added a layer of complexity.
Our core family faded as theirs took hold.
I didn’t blame them, it was the natural way of things, but Mum, Dad and I were carted from family to family as the years passed, until finally we’d given up and relocated Christmas until the twenty-ninth.
Satisfied with the state of the place, I poured a coffee, grabbed a handful of carrots, and went to find Merv.
My donkey friend loitered in his stable, despite the gate being open to the yard.
With two hoof prints in the frost, he must have stepped out before thinking hell no.
Who could blame him? Musty hay aroma hung in the air as I sat on a stool inside the door.
Merv’s ears pricked as he gave a soft bray and walked over to meet me.
‘Morning, Your Majesty,’ I said, rubbing between his ears. ‘How’s the kingdom today? Bit frosty? Agreed.’
He snuffled hot air against my coat pocket, already homing in on the veggies hidden there.
‘Alright, you greedy lump, move back and I’ll give you the carrots.
’ Merv huffed until I produced the goods, then took them one at a time, chomping merrily, as we chatted.
‘So that’s the bosses gone for a little while, and soon the chaos descends.
I’m not sure what they’ll be like, but from the twenty thousand emails I must have gotten from the event planner, I’m estimating a pain in the ass. ’
After Merv finished his carrots, I poured hot water into his feed bucket and stirred in Ribena. Merv shoved me out of his way, his muzzle sinking into the bucket with all the enthusiasm of a granny having her first sherry of Christmas day.
‘Cheers,’ I said, lifting now cooling mug. ‘To surviving whatever madness descends when the millionaires arrive.’
As I locked the stable back up when Merv retreated to the rear wall instead of following me out, a bright yellow bobble hat appeared at the fence.
‘Morning, Henry!’
Lisa Baxter, or the bee lady as she’s known locally, gripped the top of the fence with matching yellow mittens as her face came into view.
She was all pink cheeks and nose, giving her usual ethereal charm some cosiness.
I liked Lisa, and we often chatted over the fence while she tended her bees and I looked after the expansive manor gardens.
There was no denying she was a bit odd, with her quiet and somewhat disarmingly wide stare, her gangly frame and her largely isolated lifestyle, but I found it only added to her vibe.
She was also kind and thoughtful, and the first to offer help if ever I needed it. Help and honey.
‘Morning yourself,’ I called. ‘How’s your aunt today?’
‘Same as yesterday, really. Got her all cosied up in bed with this cold snap setting in. It’s a little easier now that she has nurses in to help once a day. Takes a bit of the strain. Got to check the hives and make sure the girls are tucked up too.’
Lisa runs her apiary with a gentle touch.
The bees are adored, not merely a part of her shop’s process, but the heart of the operation.
Often, I could hear her voice lilting beyond the fence as she sang to them in a song that sounded older than the hills themselves.
I’d never asked her the meaning of it in case it made her shy to know I could hear her singing.
And I didn’t want to deprive the bees of that sweetness.
She nodded toward the stable. ‘Keeping Merv company, then?’
‘He’s keeping me company for my morning brew.’ I held up my mug and smiled.
‘So you’re holding the fort for a while?’
‘The Leadbetters have gone off to see their kids, so it’s just me until the paying guests and the organisational dragon arrives. Already dreading working with her. Hoping she’ll relegate me to the greenhouse.’
‘Brave soul.’
‘I’m being paid to babysit the manor and chat to a donkey. It could be worse.’
Her mouth twitched into a small smile. ‘Not heading home for the holidays, then?’
‘After Christmas,’ I said. ‘Family do for Betwixtmas. Easier once all my sisters have survived their in-law duties. How about you? Got anyone coming for the turkey?’
‘No. Just Aunt Lucy and me again this year. The rest of the family are older and it’s not so easy for them to travel up.’
She was an angel for the way she looked after her aunt.
Returning her taking Lisa in as a child and bringing her up surrounded by bees, books and kindness.
But it had to be hard. As far as I understood, her aunt was confined to bed and could barely communicate these days.
Lisa spent hours reading to her and helping look after her, and never once complained.
‘I won’t be having dinner with the incoming family, but the staff will all grab something to eat together when the chaos settles on Christmas Day. If you can sneak away, you are more than welcome to join us.’
Lisa bit her lip as though it wasn’t just popping next door but some huge invite.‘That’s a lovely offer.’
‘Not just an offer,’ I said, smiling. ‘It’ll be great to chat without a fence between us, and we’ll have more food and drink here than we could hope to get through. Plus, that’s what friends are for.’
‘Friends?’ Lisa mouthed the word as though it were an alien concept. While we may not have hung out, ever, we spoke often in the years I’d worked at the manor.
‘I hope we’re friends.’
‘Thank you. I’ll see if I can sneak away for a little while in the evening. It would be nice to have a change of scenery.’
Merv brayed loudly, clearly agreeing.
‘See?’ I said. ‘He demands you come over and meet everyone properly.’
Lisa nodded. ‘Well, if Merv demanded it...’
‘He does. See you on the 25th, Lisa.’
She raised a gloved hand. ‘Not promising anything.’
Tucking my mug into the greenhouse, I donned my thickest gloves and wheeled a barrow of salt and grit round to the front steps.
I salted them thoroughly while humming Christmas tunes under my breath. The sun hung low in the sky, barely making it above the horizon for more than a few hours. Around two, the light would turn the estate gold for five perfect minutes before winter darkness swallowed it.
By the time I’d finished salting all of the entrances and the connecting paths, I had grown sweaty, achy and frozen through.
The claw-footed bath in my en-suite called to me. With extra bubbles. And maybe a dram on the side.
It would be a blissful reprieve until business descended.