Chapter 17
CHAPTER 17
The fact that a ball was following so hard on the heels of a fete was deeply exciting to Stonemore village. Despite Tally’s attempt at discretion, by the time Fi had stamped upstairs to speak to Jamie, half the house knew. At the same time, Fi broke news of her pregnancy to Jamie so he decided to hire some extra admin support to ensure she wasn’t run off her feet.
Slightly mollified, Fi returned to her desk and I watched as she demolished a handful of ginger biscuits.
‘Honestly, she’s a menace,’ she said, looking darkly at Tally’s empty desk (she’d gone to the haberdashery to get some swatches for bunting). ‘Jamie knows we’re meant to be saving money, not spending it. We need to put money aside to see to the drains next year. Never mind the roof.’
When I’d first come to Stonemore, I hadn’t realised that managing the house was such a struggle. Apart from Jamie’s flat, the upper rooms were dust-sheeted, with their radiators set to frost setting. Most houses of Stonemore’s size would have had a housekeeper and an army of paid staff; instead the small staff did as much as we could, aided by the volunteers, and a contracted group of cleaners came in before opening hours. It wasn’t uncommon to see Fi or Keith running with a bucket for a new leak when it was raining, or to see Jamie carefully cleaning a picture frame with a watercolour paintbrush, or inspecting brickwork on a ladder so tall it made me dizzy just looking at it. There was something about the quiet, uncomplaining way in which he did such work that had made me start to understand his role was a job as well as a privilege. I hadn’t made a joke about poshness since our phone conversation.
Tally professed herself surprised when Jamie announced that he would be charging for entrance to the ball. Staff and volunteers could attend gratis , but he slapped a healthy price on tickets for other attendees.
‘And he wants a cold buffet,’ she moaned.
‘It’ll be fine,’ I said. By this time, Fi had taken to completely ignoring her when she kicked off, on the grounds that getting stressed wouldn’t be good for the little bun she had in the oven. ‘People want cold food when it’s a dance.’
‘They should have the option though,’ she wailed. ‘Lucinda and I are as one on this.’
‘I say this with a lot of love, Tally, but please shut up ,’ murmured Fi.
Tobias arrived at Stonemore just in time to save everyone’s sanity. Fi put in a call to a temping agency and he turned up the next day, dressed sharply but coolly in trainers, jeans and jacket, and with a bespoke leather satchel that cost more than my entire wardrobe put together. On arrival at the tiny desk we’d squeezed in next to mine, he offered me a rhubarb and custard sweet, and I was sold.
Tobias was a recent graduate in Drama and Politics (‘a classic combo,’ he told me as we sucked our sweets), but he had the mind of a natural organiser and was completely unfazed by Tally, absorbing her monologues with a blank expression before bursting into a bright smile, and starting to make lists. He made tea, grasped our systems at the speed of light, and built strong relationships with our suppliers in what seemed like milliseconds. When the temp agency called to check his progress at the end of the second week, Fi blurted out ‘you can never take him from us’ in a voice so piercing we thought it was a matter of life and death.
When I told Tobias I’d expected him to be more dramatic, he rolled his eyes at me and said he planned to be a film director eventually, in which case he’d have to manage dramatic people rather than be one of them. ‘And she’s perfect practice,’ he said, tipping his head in the direction of Tally’s desk, which was piled high with swatches and magazines.
‘What are you wearing to the ball, by the way?’ Tobias said to us.
‘Something glittery to drape over this.’ Fi patted her baby bump – she was already showing.
‘Glitter, excellent!’ cried Tobias.
‘And you?’ I said.
He bit his lip. ‘I might just have a second-hand Tom Ford suit in my wardrobe.’
‘Oh my lord,’ I said. ‘You’ll look fantastic.’
He held up a reproving finger. ‘I’ll have to countrify it. Maybe I’ll fashion myself a pheasant-feather brooch.’
‘Or you could just allow Hugo to cover you with a fine layer of beagle hair,’ I said. Hugo was snoring on my lap – Jamie had had to go out for the morning.
‘I’ll consider it,’ said Tobias. ‘What about you, Anna?’
I sighed. Conversations like this were not my forte. ‘Maybe I won’t go.’
‘Shut up !’
‘Okay, okay. I’ve got a black dress I bought for work do’s just before I left London,’ I said. ‘No, honestly. It’s appropriate. A cocktail dress.’ I caught his narrow-eyed glance. ‘I’ll pair it with killer heels and vampy red lipstick.’ I’d sent this description to Rose by text, and she’d approved it.
‘Mmm.’ Tobias was not convinced. ‘I’ll bring you a brooch from my collection.’ He was an avid collector of brooches from charity shops and flea markets. ‘I will bring a red glass piece to match your lipstick.’
‘Very kind.’ Hugo shifted on my lap and I stroked his soft head.
‘You do know,’ Tobias leaned forwards, confidentially, ‘that Lucinda is planning to recreate a dress from one of the portraits in the house? She’s having someone in the village sew it. Tartan. Looks a bit biscuit-tin-like to me.’
‘Really?’ I glanced at Fi, who was rubbing her baby bump and looking very entertained.
‘I know,’ Tobias nodded. ‘A real-life restaging of Rebecca . Although I checked and Jamie doesn’t have a dead wife. It’s his grandmother’s portrait she’s recreating. Which is less…’ he paused to consider the right word, ‘… sexy. I said to Curtis,’ (Curtis was his housemate, with whom he was secretly, or not so secretly, in love), ‘if you wanted to make someone propose, would you dress up as their grandmother?’
I started laughing and quickly became hysterical. Even when Tobias, laughing himself, said, ‘Hon, catch your breath, it wasn’t that funny,’ on I went, until Hugo sat up, glared at me, jumped down and ambled off to Callum’s office.
‘Oh dear,’ I said, wiping tears of laughter from my face. ‘I think I might need a change of scene.’ I checked my face in my phone and saw there were rivulets of mascara on my cheeks. As I wiped them off, I didn’t dare imagine the looks Tobias and Fi were exchanging.
I was still actively suppressing my laughter as I strode off to check on the conservator who was working on the Boulle cabinet. The thing was, I seemed to have shifted from finding everything terrible and tear-inducing, to wanting to laugh at everything.
I texted Fi as I walked, trying to shelter my phone from the seemingly never-ending summer rain.
ANNA I keep laughing all the time. Is there a word for this?
FIONA Hysteria? Are you okay?
It wasn’t unpleasant, I just felt as though I was in delayed shock or something. There was also something very strange happening: I was starting to think well of Jamie. Even to quite like Jamie. Clearly Lucinda’s obsession with marrying him had somehow tinkered with a primitive part of my brain. Also, we hadn’t been alone in a room together for ages, and it was clear we got on best when we didn’t actually speak to each other.
But I kept thinking about him watching the GPS when I got lost in the snow. And knocking the Jenga over to try to save me from embarrassment when I confessed to my childlessness. Not to mention him galloping to my rescue on a horse.
No-no-no, Anna , I said to myself as I stomped across Stonemore, this is no time to be fostering ambiguous feelings towards a man you categorically loathed until about five minutes ago. Just deal with your issues, woman, and download a dating app .
But that hadn’t stopped me from studying the planting plan our archivist had provided for me, and incorporating some new elements to Belheddonbrae. Elements that I hoped would please him, because somebody had to cheer the grumpy bugger up. Make him crack out that sunshine-from-clouds smile.
I was making too much of this. It was a good thing that I didn’t dislike him so much. We could develop a positive, friendly working relationship. At a distance.
The room the conservator was working in was roped off from the public, so I had to thread my way past several curious tourists before stepping over the rope barrier and going over to him. Yet again, the joy of leaping the rope, and striding across the room with an air of authority. I really had to master this tendency towards twattery.
‘Alright, Anna?’ Reg the conservator raised his magnifying headpiece. ‘Sadly you appear to have forgotten my cup of tea.’
‘Oh no! Sorry.’ I wanted to tell him I’d been too busy daydreaming, but thought I’d probably hit my weirdness quota for the day. ‘I’ll go and make you one.’
‘No, don’t worry, I’m about to stop for lunch anyway. I should be finished today.’
‘Great.’ I noticed him glance over my shoulder and turned to look.
Jamie. As though my jumbled feelings had summoned him out of thin air.
I don’t know how long we looked at each other, but when Reg cleared his throat I realised it must have been more than a few seconds. I got a hit of Jamie’s musky aftershave. Had he always smelt that good?
Luckily, whilst I tried to gather my scattered thoughts, Jamie was introducing himself to Reg and chatting about the cabinet.
‘So it’s probably best not to let your dog pee on it in future,’ Reg was finishing up. ‘Even though it had an, er, positive effect this time.’
I decided to slip away and leave them to it. ‘See you later…’
‘No.’ Jamie shot a look at me. ‘I need a quick word. If you have a minute.’
I gulped audibly and nodded. Reg frowned questioningly at me. ‘Laters,’ I said.
‘Er, okay,’ he said.
I followed Jamie to the far side of the room. We were in the red salon, a drawing room decorated with red silk wallpaper and deep patterned carpets. Luckily it was the size of a tennis court, so we found a place discreetly distant from Reg and the tourists. He glanced back at them, caught my eye, and smiled. But I caught the sadness in his face and my sympathy for him blindsided me as much as his smile normally did.
‘I thought you were in Newcastle,’ I said, watching him as he looked out at the deer park, the light bright on his face. He looked every inch the earl in that moment: straight-backed, the aquiline lines of his face and mouth reminding me of every portrait in the place.
‘I was in Newcastle,’ he said. ‘I’m thinking of thinning the art collection.’
‘Really?’ I was shocked. ‘Tally hasn’t mentioned anything.’
‘She doesn’t know.’ He glanced at me, then back at the distant tourists, and I saw the flicker of worry there.
‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to tell you – or anyone. It’s the bloody roof again. There’s some urgent maintenance that needs doing and we don’t have the money.’
‘I’m so sorry,’ I said.
‘This makes a change,’ he said, his mouth twitching into a slight smile. ‘I thought you might have a reprimand for me.’
‘Nope,’ I said. ‘No reprimand.’ The air seemed to crackle between us. ‘I mean,’ I scrabbled for the right words, thinking of all the ‘yes’ moments I’d answered with ‘no’. ‘I know I’m quite negative sometimes, but I don’t mean to be unsupportive.’
He was frowning. ‘Are you joking?’
I blinked at him.
‘Anna? You’re one of the most can-do people I know. You’re always thinking of others, helping other people.’
I stared at him, not knowing what to say.
‘I wasn’t saying you were unsupportive. Just that you occasionally – put me in my place.’ His mouth twitched again, with something that might have been amusement.
I felt obscurely relieved, seeing his expression. I’d begun my ‘No’ journey thinking I wouldn’t care about other people’s opinions anymore, but it turned out I still did, even after months of mantras. ‘And you don’t mind?’
‘To tell you the truth, I rather like it,’ he said.
It was very hard to breathe all of a sudden. ‘I’m sorry about the roof, anyway,’ I gabbled.
‘Forget I said anything about it. I didn’t mean to foist my problems on you,’ he said. ‘Talking of problems, did I see you with a scythe the other day?’
‘Yes!’ I said. ‘I love cutting back with a scythe.’
He shuddered. ‘Do we even have insurance for that?’
I smiled. ‘It’s all in the technique. Don’t worry, I won’t lose an arm or anything.’
‘You’d better not.’ He looked away and gave himself a little shake. Then he glanced back and did a double-take. ‘Why are you laughing?’
Yep, there I was, laughing again. ‘Sorry. You just slightly reminded me of Hugo. You know, when he shakes himself.’ I shook my own head. ‘You know, his floppy ears.’ I did my best impression of a beagle.
He frowned, and then out of nowhere, he cracked up. And my hysteria seemed to be catching because our joint laughter escalated until a volunteer steward popped his head around the corner and gave us a look of consternation. I covered my face with my hands and tried to gain some composure.
‘Thanks for that,’ Jamie said eventually, catching his breath. ‘What was I even going to say to you?’
I wiped tears of laughter from my face. ‘No idea.’
He leaned his forehead against the window. ‘Oh, I know. I wanted to congratulate you. On the environmental submission for the rewilding prize. It’s fantastic, Anna. And the beavers. The bloody beavers! It’s an absolute wonder. Do you know the charity that arranged it emailed me? They said that it only went so smoothly because of all the work you put in – I’ll forward it to you.’
I smiled. ‘No problem. For a minute I thought you were going to make me redundant. Money saving and all that.’
‘What? No. No , Anna.’ He looked at me intensely. ‘Stonemore will only survive by looking to the future. Don’t go anywhere. Please.’
What could I say with that intense gaze pinning me to the spot? ‘I’m not planning on going anywhere,’ I said.
‘Lucinda hasn’t been interfering? Because if she has…’
‘She hasn’t said a word to me,’ I said. ‘She’s mainly working with Tally at the moment.’
He caught my gaze with his; his eyes were blazing. ‘The estate needs you.’
I took a breath. ‘No one is irreplaceable.’
‘I disagree. I realise sometimes we’re at odds with each other. But you’re brilliant at your job. The relationships you’ve built – we have people queuing up to work with us on our projects. You’re needed here.’
The air seemed to thicken. Standing there, facing him, I felt my body tighten with tension. This situation was getting to me in a way I couldn’t fathom.
‘I have to go,’ I said. And without waiting for a response, I turned and walked away.
As I stepped over the rope, a tourist tapped me on the arm, a young woman with a phone out, craning her head to look beyond me. ‘Is that the earl?’ she said.
I smiled. ‘Yes.’
‘Is he single?’ Her eyes were wide with interest.
‘No,’ I said, thinking of Lucinda, and how right she would look in a portrait hung on one of these red silk walls. They would be what my mum used to call a handsome couple. ‘I’m afraid he’s not.’