Thirty-four Heliotrope – Devoted Affection
Thirty-four
Heliotrope – Devoted Affection
It’s the evening of Jake’s fortieth birthday party, and Amber, Ash and I walk up the hill to Trecarlan Castle.
Amber is wearing a beautiful, long, rainbow-coloured dress with gladiator sandals. Having been through my entire wardrobe and not found a single thing suitable to wear, I’ve borrowed another of Amber’s dresses: a gorgeous gown in duck-egg blue – a colour I don’t think I’ve ever worn in my life, and would certainly never have chosen for myself if Amber hadn’t encouraged me into it. The dress has embroidery all over the fitted bust and thin straps, with a loose, flowing, gossamer-soft skirt below.
It’s a good job Amber and I are a similar size or I don’t know what I’d have done. Amber seems able to create endless different outfits, some of which she brought with her from New York, and some she’s made up from items she picks up in the charity shops of St Felix and the surrounding area.
Bronte, Charlie and myself have instructed all the guests to get to the castle fifteen minutes before the birthday boy is due to arrive at 7.30 p.m., and Woody has been put in charge of getting Jake to the party. None of us have a clue how Woody’s going to get him there, but Bronte and Charlie have told me not to worry, it’s all in hand.
When we arrive at the castle we are ushered inside by Charlie and told where to go and hide. Ash and Amber seem quite excited by all the subversive behaviour, but I can’t help wondering just how much Jake will enjoy being surprised like this. Jake has always struck me as being very down-to-earth and practical, I’m not sure surprise parties are really his idea of fun. On the other hand, Jake’s kids mean the world to him, and knowing they were the ones who’d organised this bash, he would make damn sure he enjoyed it.
As we arrive in the ballroom, I realise just how popular Jake is in St Felix. The place is already packed out with people holding glasses of fizz, eagerly waiting to congratulate him. There is a huge birthday banner hanging over one wall, leaving no one in any doubt as to what age Jake is turning today, and the white tablecloths that had looked so serene and elegant at the wedding are decorated with colourful helium-filled balloons and confetti 40s.
At the appointed time we all squeeze into a tiny room behind the main ballroom. Stan had once told me it was for ladies to powder their faces during the huge balls that were held at the castle in the last century. But as we all squeeze together in the dark like sardines, it’s hard to imagine an elegant powder room with ladies gossiping about their beaux.
‘Ssh,’ someone hisses, ‘he’s here.’
We all stand as quietly as we can, waiting for our signal, and then we hear Jake’s voice.
‘What the hell is going on, Woody? Why have you brought me here?’
‘Go!’ someone shouts, and we all jump out of the powder room calling ‘Surprise!’
But it’s not just Jake who gets a shock. So do we when we see him standing in the middle of the ballroom with his arms handcuffed behind his back.
‘What the hell?’ he cries, seeing us all.
‘Happy birthday, Dad!’ yell Bronte and Charlie, rushing forward to hug him with Miley in their arms.
Jake tries to hug them back, but finds he’s still incapacitated.
‘So this is why you arrested me in my own home!’ Jake exclaims, turning to Woody, as Miley climbs on to his shoulder. ‘I thought you’d lost it!’
‘Sorry, Jake,’ Woody says, pulling a key from his pocket and unlocking the handcuffs. ‘It was my job to get you here without you guessing what was going on, and that was the only thing I could think of that was guaranteed to work.’
‘Arresting me?’ Jake says, rubbing at his wrists.
‘I did check with Bronte and Charlie first,’ Woody says, looking embarrassed. ‘They said you wouldn’t mind.’
‘I bet they did,’ Jake says gruffly, turning to his children. ‘However…’ He stops pretending to be cross and grins. ‘I think I can forgive you. This all looks amazing!’
‘Have a drink, Jake,’ Lou says, thrusting a glass of bubbly into his hand. ‘Happy birthday!’ she says, lifting her own glass.
‘Thank you, Lou.’ Jake turns around to face his guests. ‘Cheers, everyone!’ He lifts his glass in a toast. ‘And thank you all for coming!’
The party is a great success; one of the local bands we had at the wedding is playing, and people soon begin flooding on to the dance floor to boogie the night away. There is plenty of booze (another pop-up bar provided by the Merry Mermaid) and refreshments (provided by St Felix’s new catering team of Richie, Ant and Dec).
‘How fabulous is this?’ I ask Charlie a bit later when I bump into him at the buffet table. ‘You and Bronte have done brilliantly.’
‘We couldn’t have done it without you, Poppy, and the rest of the town chipping in to help,’ he says. ‘Everyone wanted to be involved again, that’s how we ended with so much stuff.’ He gestures to the long table. ‘Even after Ant and Dec offered to cater for us, we still had loads of offers of sandwiches and desserts. We didn’t know what to do with it all.’
‘That’s because your dad is so popular.’ I look at the plates of food set out on the table. ‘It seems to be disappearing rapidly. I don’t think you’ll have a lot left.’
‘I know, the people of St Felix sure are hungry!’
‘My son!’ Jake comes over and wraps his arm around Charlie. It looks as though he’s had quite a few drinks already. ‘Aren’t I the luckiest dad in the world to have two fantastic children?’
‘Yes, without a doubt.’ I smile at Jake. It’s good to see him again. We haven’t seen each other properly since the strange events at his nursery, and I’d wondered if tonight might be a bit awkward. But judging by the look on Jake’s face it’s anything but.
‘And can you believe how old I am today, Poppy?’
I open my mouth to reply, but he continues: ‘Forty! Forty years old – when did that happen?’
I shake my head.
‘I just wish Felicity was here to see all this.’ He throws his arm out to the ballroom. ‘She always loved a party, especially birthdays.’ The happiness in his face changes to sadness.
Charlie puts a hand on his father’s shoulder. ‘I’m sure Mum is here in spirit, Dad.’
Jake nods. ‘Yes, you’re right. Did I ever tell you, Charlie, what a good kid you are?’
Charlie grins. ‘Just a few times tonight.’
‘Good, good,’ Jake says, patting him on the back. ‘Now then, Poppy,’ Jake says, swaying a little as he lets go of Charlie. ‘Do you dance?’
‘Er…’
‘Because I feel like dancing, and you are by far the most attractive dance partner I can see in the room. Plus,’ he leans in towards me and whispers, ‘I don’t see Ash anywhere, so we’ll be OK.’
Jake’s words make my cheeks flush bright red. Is he coming on to me? Was I right about what almost happened in the greenhouse?
‘Oh Ja-ake!’ Belle comes wafting over; she’s wearing a long red halter-neck maxi dress, which is cut very low on her slim back, and gold sandals. ‘I haven’t had a chance to wish you a happy birthday yet!’ She kisses him on the cheek.
‘Thank you, Belle,’ Jake says politely. ‘I do hope you’re enjoying yourself tonight.’
‘Well, I would be,’ Belle replies, pouting, ‘if only I could find a dance partner…’
‘I was just saying I felt like a dance!’ Jake responds, grinning. ‘What are we waiting for!’
He grabs Belle’s hand and pulls her on to the dance floor, where he proceeds to wrap his arms around her waist, and swing her around, while Belle laughs hysterically.
‘Sorry,’ Charlie says, seeing me forlornly watching them. ‘Dad’s a bit drunk. I’m sure he would rather have danced with you.’
‘Oh no, it doesn’t matter,’ I tell him quickly, turning away from the dance floor. ‘I’m not one for dancing much anyway.’ I give a fake smile, which I’m sure Charlie knows isn’t genuine.
‘Hey,’ Ash says, arriving at our side. ‘What’s going down?’
‘Nothing,’ I reply brightly, kissing him. ‘How are you enjoying the party?’
‘Yeah, it’s good.’
I get the feeling Ash is only saying this for Charlie’s benefit.
‘You’ve done well,’ he tells Charlie. ‘Organising this. When I was your age I was only interested in surfing and girls.’
‘And what’s changed?’ I tease.
‘Ha, funny.’ Ash puts his arm around my waist and kisses the side of my neck. ‘You know you’re the only woman for me.’
For some reason I feel uncomfortable when he says this. ‘Charlie likes to surf, don’t you, Charlie?’ I say, changing the subject fast.
‘I would, given the chance,’ Charlie says wryly.
‘Then what’s stopping you?’ Ash asks.
‘You have to be in the right crowd, don’t you, to be in the surfing gang.’ He eyes Ash knowingly.
Ash thinks about this. ‘I guess we are a tight-knit group, but we’re always open to newcomers.’
Charlie looks like he doesn’t believe him.
‘What are you doing tomorrow?’ Ash asks.
‘Not much,’ Charlie replies. ‘Probably clearing up here.’
‘Well forget that!’ Ash declares. ‘Life’s too short to tidy!’
I nudge him hard.
‘OK…’ he says looking at me. ‘Don’t forget that. But when you’ve finished clearing up, why not come down to the beach? The surf should be well up, according to the forecast.’
Charlie shrugs. ‘I don’t know…’
‘Come on, man up! Do you wanna ride those waves or not? The rush is mad!’
‘OK then, I will!’ Charlie says, grinning.
‘Do you have a board?’ Ash asks. ‘’Cos you can borrow one of mine if not?’
‘I have a board, just don’t use it very often.’
‘Then we’ll have to get her waxed up!’
Ash and Charlie begin to talk enthusiastically to each other about surfing, and after a few minutes I decide this might be a good time to slip away. I have something important to do.
After Stan had told me the story of the Victorian pictures, we’d talked some more about his collection:
‘Stan, would these pictures be worth anything, do you think?’ I ask, an idea springing into my mind. Ever since he’d confided in me about his financial situation, I’d been trying desperately to think how I might help him remain at Camberley.
‘Oh yes, without a doubt. Especially if they could be sold as a set with the letter from Queen Victoria. If we knew where they all were, it would be a very valuable collection indeed.’
I nod, still thinking. ‘Well, we know where the purple rose is – I have that back at the cottage. The sweet pea is definitely at Lou’s – I’ve seen it myself.’ Although the last time I’d been in Lou’s cottage, the hall walls were bare because she was decorating. But I was pretty sure she wouldn’t get rid of the picture if Stan had given it to her. ‘But what about the other two?’
‘I left one at the castle,’ Stan says, looking shame-faced. ‘A forget-me-not.’
‘Why did you leave it there? You must have known it was worth something.’
‘I was in a bad way when I had to leave Trecarlan, Poppy. I barely remembered to pack my toothbrush, let alone a picture of a flower I’d long forgotten the importance of. And the picture is worthless on its own, the value comes from it being part of a set.’
‘Of course.’ Not wanting to dwell on the subject of him losing his home, I ask, ‘But what about the picture of a pink carnation, the one you gave to this Isabelle? That can’t be in St Felix. How on earth are we going to find that one?’
‘Oh, what does it matter, Poppy?’ Stan sighs. ‘That was all a long time ago. You need to concentrate on the present, on your flower shop and your beaux.’
‘No, Stan, I won’t rest until I know you’re secure here at Camberley. I owe it to you.’
‘Poppy, love, you don’t owe me anything.’
‘I do, Stan. I abandoned you for over fifteen years while I wallowed in my own misery. Now I’m going to make it right.’
I take a quick look around the ballroom; everyone seems to be busy dancing, drinking or chatting.
‘I’ll be back in a bit,’ I murmur to Ash.
‘Yeah, babe,’ he says, immediately turning back to Charlie. Finding a fellow surfer seems to have cheered Ash up no end.
I take another quick look around the room. Jake is still dancing with Belle, the tempo has slowed, and they are swaying to the music together. Belle’s arms are draped provocatively over Jake’s shoulders, but Jake’s hands, I’m relieved to see, are resting formally on Belle’s waist. As I watch them I notice he’s looking around as if he’s wondering how to get away. Amber has asked Woody to dance – it must have been that way around; I’m sure Woody wouldn’t have had the nerve to ask Amber. Lou, surprisingly, is dancing with Ant, and Rita and Richie are busy serving drinks to Dec at the bar. Great, everyone that might notice is otherwise occupied, there’s no one else that will miss me if I slip away for a while.
Unnoticed by Charlie and Ash, I make my way towards the door. Then, taking one quick look to check I haven’t been seen, I slip out into the hall.
Stan had told me that he’d hidden the last picture, along with the original letter from Queen Victoria, in the cellar of Trecarlan.
So that is where I’m heading.
This was my first opportunity since Stan had told me the story to be at Trecarlan without someone else present. On my previous visits I’d either been with Bronte and Charlie, overseeing the arrangements for tonight, or Amber, setting out the beautiful pedestal arrangements full of flowers from Jake’s nursery. Even when I had tried to come up here with Basil on the pretence of a walk, Ash had intercepted us along the way, saying he was heading up to the castle to trim the lawns.
Tonight, even though the castle is full of people, everyone’s busy having fun in the ballroom. There’s not a soul in sight as I head through the main hall, then down some stone steps into the original servants’ quarters, flicking on lights as I go. Although we’d used this area of the castle during the wedding, it was freaking me out a bit, being down here on my own. The castle was hundreds of years old, what if it had ghosts?
‘Stop it, Poppy,’ I tell myself. ‘There’s no such thing. You’ve been spending too much time with Amber.’
The cellar entrance, as I recall, is not far away from the kitchen. I’d noticed it the other day when I’d been down here. But as I rattle on the handle of the wooden door, I realise it’s locked.
Damn!
Where would the key have been kept?
The kitchen, perhaps? I remember Babs keeping a collection of keys pegged up on some black iron hooks inside her pantry. Could they possibly still be there?
To my delight and amazement not only the black hooks but the keys are still there – and they’re all labelled too! I grab the one that says ‘Cellar’ and head back out into the corridor.
For a moment I think I hear footsteps, but when I stop and listen all I can hear is the distant sound of music from the ballroom. ‘Stop imagining things!’ I tell myself. ‘Otherwise you’ll never do this for Stan.’
And that really is my driving force in all this – Stan. I genuinely feel I let him down by not being around when he had to leave Trecarlan. Maybe, if I’d known, I could have helped him, possibly even prevented it from happening. But I was too caught up in my own trauma back then to even think about St Felix, let alone return here.
I approach the wooden door, slip the key into the lock, and as if by magic it creaks open to reveal stone steps leading down into the darkness of the cellar.
Luckily in this modern age I don’t need to carry a lantern. I’m able to flick a light switch to illuminate my way.
When I get to the bottom of the steps I find myself in a large cellar lined with wine racks, each holding vast quantities of bottles; there’s wine, champagne, whisky… It’s like being in the cellar of a pub, except the bottles are all dusty and forlorn, like they’ve been waiting a long time for someone to return to select them to help celebrate a birthday or complement a dinner party.
Stan had instructed me to head to the far right of the cellar and find a narrow passageway. Unlike the rest of the cellar, the passageway isn’t lit so I flick on the torch on the back of my iPhone and feel my way along even more racks till I come to the very end. I notice that in this part of the cellar most of the racks are empty. I count three shelves up, five spaces across, and reach my hand up to feel in that space where a wine bottle should be.
But there’s nothing there. It’s empty. I shine my phone up on to the shelf, in case I’ve made a mistake with the counting, but there’s nothing, just empty spaces where bottles once lay waiting to be drunk.
How odd. Stan had been adamant that’s where he’d hidden the picture and the letter, inside a tin box to protect it.
I’ll have to speak to him again. There’s obviously nothing here, so maybe Stan had made a mistake, or remembered it wrongly. I sigh and turn to make my way back. I’ve only taken a few steps towards the light of the main cellar when suddenly everything goes black. Thank God I have my iPhone, I think, lifting it up higher to guide me out of the cellar.
It’s then I hear a sound that strikes fear into my heart.
The sound of the cellar door being shut above me, and then locked.