Chapter 18
I headed back to Fernside in the happiest mood.
I felt even more ecstatic than when Constance had agreed to me buying Willowell Woods because then my excitement had been tempered with the fear that I wouldn’t get permission for the business, and my dream wouldn’t come true.
Now, however, I was feeling far more optimistic!
I knew what Helen had said was only her opinion, but she was so keen and convinced that her colleagues on the planning committee would agree with her too that my heart was now full of more justified hope, excitement and eagerness to forge ahead.
I was tempted to stop at the store and pick up a couple of bottles of elderflower fizz to celebrate with, but I knew that if either Melody or Kaya served me I wouldn’t be able to keep what had just happened to myself, and I wanted Constance to be the first to know.
After Carter, of course. And given that the happy news was down to him introducing me to Helen, his already knowing what had occurred felt perfectly acceptable.
‘I must start another list,’ I laughed happily, as I remembered that the first thing I needed to do was get the woods valued and then buy them!
Back at the house, I had to stop my car ahead of where I usually parked because there was something dumped on the drive.
When I got out, I realised it was the for sale sign from the woods.
The post had been snapped in half and the board was broken, too.
Whoever had taken it down must have had Herculean strength because I’d tried to shift it and it hadn’t budged an inch.
I guessed Constance must have asked Rick to remove it now things were settled between us and the sight of it sent my spirits soaring even higher.
‘Constance!’ I called aloud as I rushed through the gate, which was unusually unlocked, with my trusty notebook clasped tight in my hand.
The sound of the piano drifted towards me and I knew exactly where to go to find her.
I didn’t recognise the tune, but she was playing it at a speed I wouldn’t have thought her fingers capable of, and it wasn’t the most delicate sound, either.
In fact, the closer I got, the more it sounded like an assault, rather than a tender caress of the keys.
In my buoyed-up state, I thought I’d soon remedy her bad mood, assuming she was in one, and, throwing caution to the wind, I rushed straight through the doors that opened out to the garden and into the sitting room.
‘Constance!’ I said again, even louder that time, to make myself heard, and not at all concerned that I was about to out her as a musician when she’d made such a point of keeping it a secret. ‘You’re not going to believe what’s just happened. Talk about serendipity…’
The words died in my throat as I came to a shuddering halt, my heart beating a tattoo and my breath sharp in my chest. It was shock that had pulled me up so short, so fast, because I wasn’t looking at Constance on the piano stool in the rather grand room, I was staring at the back of…
‘James?’ I frowned and he stopped playing and spun around. ‘James!’ I said again. ‘It is you, but—’
‘Tilly,’ he gasped, cutting me off. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘What am I doing here?’ I blinked, feeling utterly astounded. ‘What are you doing here, more like?’
He looked as astonished to see me as I was to see him. I hadn’t spotted his car, or indeed any car, on the drive, so there’d been no heads up that I was about to bewilderingly find him, rather than Constance, bashing seven bells out of her piano.
‘I asked you first,’ he said back, his former expression of amazement being replaced with one of suspicion and perhaps even a hint of anger, though why my presence should justify that, I had no idea.
I was every bit as shocked to see him, but I wasn’t angry, was I?
That said, the initial urge the sight of him had induced, that had me wanting to throw my arms around him and kiss the lips off him, had suddenly slunk off.
Now, I felt a hard ball in the pit of my stomach that heralded something was seriously amiss.
Now the initial moment of recognition had worn off I was feeling nauseous and unsteady on my feet.
‘I live here,’ I told him tentatively. ‘Not in the house, but in an apartment that’s attached to it.’
‘You live here?’ James repeated incredulously, and his eyes grew so wide they were practically on stalks. ‘You live here, at Fernside?’
‘Yes,’ I confirmed. ‘And I was just coming to find my friend.’
‘Your friend being…’
‘Constance Clarke,’ I said succinctly. ‘The woman who owns this house.’
James dropped his head and cradled it for a moment in his hands with his elbows resting on his knees. He appeared to be having as difficult a time processing what I had just said as I was trying to get my head around finding him so familiarly ensconced in Constance’s sitting room.
‘Please,’ he said, when he eventually looked up again, and I could see the colour had completely drained from his face and that even his lips had turned white. ‘Please don’t tell me, Tilly, that you’re the person who wants to buy Willowell Woods.’
‘I’m the person who is buying Willowell Woods,’ I said with emphasis. ‘And now you can tell me how it is that you know about them?’
‘How do I know about them?’ he said with a grim smile that didn’t suit his handsome features at all. ‘We’ll get to that in a minute, but first, I need to tell you that the woods aren’t for sale.’
‘Of course they are,’ I said back as I tried to swallow down the rising feeling of panic that was starting to take over from the nausea.
Literally just a couple of minutes ago I had arrived at Fernside floating on cloud nine, but now I had fallen and was tumbling back to earth with no grasp on the straps that would open my parachute.
‘I’m sorry, Tilly,’ James said firmly. ‘But they’re not.’
‘And that’s you talking as Constance’s legal adviser, is it?’ I said, jutting out my chin in an attempt at defiance, even though on the inside I felt on the point of collapse.
My entire body felt consumed by an emotional cocktail of confusion, upset and shock.
‘No,’ he said as he fixed his gaze onto mine. ‘This is me talking as her nephew, her exhausted adviser in all things financial and the person who now bitterly regrets ever going along with her suggestion to put the woods up for sale in the first place.’
‘You’re her nephew,’ I whispered in shock, as I fumbled for the chair behind me and shakily sank into it. ‘Oh my god, you’re Grace’s child.’
‘Yes,’ said James. ‘I’m Grace’s son. Constance is my aunt.’
‘Constance is your aunt,’ I repeated on an out breath.
‘That’s right,’ he said bluntly, and I did then begin to feel angry myself.
‘In that case, it’s a shame you haven’t looked after her better, isn’t it?’ I snapped waspishly.
‘Sorry?’
James looked flabbergasted, but I felt furious with him and, for the moment, I forgot all about the woods and focused on the woman we were talking about.
‘You reported her to Social Services, James! Don’t deny it.’
‘I wasn’t going to deny it,’ he fired back, sounding incensed himself. ‘Did she tell you why I did it?’
‘No,’ I had no choice but to confess. ‘But I know she was devastated that you did.’
James offered no explanation as to why he’d put Miss Lyons on his aunt’s case and we were quiet for a moment, both of us lost in the shock of what was unravelling.
‘Was it your mum who instilled in you your love for the outdoors?’ I asked once my brain had calmed down enough to unscramble a few things. ‘I know she was a keen gardener and a great plantswoman.’
‘Yes,’ said James. ‘It was Mum. It was the greatest gift she ever gave me.’
And there went my heart, but my next question reined it in again.
‘So, with that in mind,’ I frowned, ‘why did you go along with Constance putting the woods up for sale? I would have thought they’d mean even more to you than her.’
‘They did,’ he said. ‘They do.’
‘I heard a rumour that the house needs repairs and that’s what prompted the sale—’
‘Rumours,’ James tutted. ‘Gossip. All of which you know is untrue, because you’ve been doing the housework and found nothing amiss.’
‘I haven’t been doing the housework,’ I said quickly. ‘Constance has taken on a cleaner.’
James looked doubtful. ‘But how has she funded that?’ he said, more to himself than me. ‘Because I know for a fact that she hasn’t been spending any of the money I’ve been sending her…’
‘You’ve been sending her money?’
James’s gaze swung back to my face and his expression was stricken. So, that was where some of his salary was going every month, to Constance, to the house.
‘Can you forget you heard me say that?’ he requested. ‘My aunt would be even more furious with me if she found out I’d alluded to her scant finances on top of everything else.’
‘But if—’
I had been going to ask if there was any point in carrying on with doing work he didn’t have the heart for if he’d realised that Constance wasn’t spending the money he earned, but he cut me off.
‘I mean it,’ he said. ‘Though however she is paying for a cleaner, it does feel wonderful that this place looks and feels more like home again.’
For the first time since I’d burst into it, I looked properly around the room.
With its walls lined with bookcases, heavy sun-faded drapes, cushion covered squishy sofas, chairs and the piano that took centre stage, it was a beautiful and relaxed space and full of the bohemian charm which Constance had graced the supper parties with.
‘She’s funding it with the rent I’m paying her,’ I told James, once I’d taken it all in.
‘You’re paying rent?’
‘Of course I am. And we’re planning to get the woods properly valued, too,’ I said.
‘What Constance was asking for them was absurdly low given there’s a building on-site and proper parking next to the lane.
So, going forward, you won’t have to help her out with money because her finances will be far healthier. ’