A Winter’s Tale (26 page)

Hebe said primly, ‘That is hardly a polite expression to use, Sophy!’

‘Don’t be such an old spinster. And the girl is quite right, the place must have been searched so many times over the centuries that if there was anything to find, they would have,’ Ottie said. ‘And
didn’t
Sophy sound just like William!’

‘Yes, she did,’ Jack said, eyeing me thoughtfully. ‘Look, Sophy, I admit I’d like to find something valuable, and I’m still convinced there is something to find. But my only motive is to help keep Winter’s End in the family. It will take much more money to return it to its former glory and pay for its upkeep than you have any conception of.’

‘Yes I have, and I’ve got a plan,’ I said indignantly. ‘I keep telling you!’

‘A few extra visitors?’ He shook his head. ‘That isn’t going to make a significant difference.’

‘Perhaps not, but a vastly increased number of visitors over a longer opening season, all paying more to come in, and spending money while they’re here—that
will
make a difference. But first we need to enhance the attractions within the house, like working the Shakespeare and witchcraft angles more, and upgrading the café, so that the gardens aren’t the only draw.’

‘Using
what
for money?’ put in Jack smoothly, hitting the nail on the head because I knew spending the Herring money on upgrading the facilities in order to attract greater numbers of visitors was, to continue the fishy analogy, using a sprat to catch a mackerel.

‘Oh, I think we are all going to be very surprised by what Sophy will achieve,’ Ottie told him. ‘Just wait and see.’

I hoped she was right—and I also hoped that, before too long,
she
would surprise
me
with whatever part of the family secret my mother hadn’t been able to tell me.

Chapter Seventeen: Pressed

Today a messenger came for Sir Ralph and later privily gave mee a small packet. Inside were some lines of verse to my dark beauty, though ye mirror tells mee that Master S is more than generous in his praise…I sent no reply, nor if he come again will I see him, but make some excuse of illness, for that way danger lies. I am like a butterfly that hath had her one day of dancing and pleasure and must now pay with death…though not yet mine. The shadows have left mee to gather around Thomas, who daily weakens before mine eyes, despite all my endevors.

From the journal of Alys Blezzard, 1581

After dinner we all went into the library, where Hebe watched fondly as Jack thrashed me at billiards, and then not so fondly as Ottie wiped the floor with him.

Jack was not, I noticed, a very good loser, which was a bit worrying. I mean, if he went all tight-lipped and threw his cue about just because he lost a game of billiards, what was he going to be like when it finally dawned on him that he wasn’t going to get possession of Winter’s End? And, whatever he meant by a ‘partnership’ between us, was that likely to be one of equals?

Somehow, I had begun to suspect not.

Ottie went back to the coach house after Jonah brought the coffee in, and Aunt Hebe got up and started to gather her knitting and garden magazines together.

‘I am rather tired, Jack, so I think I will retire and leave you to amuse Sophy—and I expect you have arranged to meet your friends later anyway, haven’t you?’

Since he’d already met up with them at lunchtime
and
said he was going to devote the rest of the weekend to me, I confidently expected him to deny any such intention. So I felt a bit stunned and, if truth be told, somewhat chagrined, when he agreed. ‘Yes, I did think I’d pop down to the pub for an hour or so and see who’s about. If only you hadn’t exhausted yourself with all that cleaning, Sophy, I would have suggested you come too, but I can see you’re all in.’

‘Oh, I’m not
that
tired,’ I protested, then gave the words the lie by yawning hugely, though that was probably just the power of suggestion.

He laughed. ‘You need an early night—and then tomorrow morning, right after breakfast, we can have a good discussion about everything,’ he promised. ‘There should be plenty of time before I go.’

‘
Go?
’

‘Yes, of course.’ He looked surprised. ‘I’m just closing a deal on a property in Shropshire. But don’t worry, I’m not leaving until after lunch.’

I was starting to see what Grandfather had meant about Jack using Winter’s End like a hotel. The disappointment must have shown on my face, for Aunt Hebe said kindly, ‘Jack is terribly busy, you know, Sophy. It was kind of him to take the time to come this weekend especially to give you the benefit of his advice—and of course he knows
all
about renovating old properties.’

‘I’m just sorry I wasn’t able to be here when Sophy arrived,’ Jack said, smiling warmly at me.

‘That’s all right—you did send me the lovely bouquet, after all,’ I said grudgingly, though still feeling annoyed and short-changed.

‘I
am
exceptionally busy at the moment, darling, but
you
can get me any time you like on my mobile,’ he assured me. ‘And be prepared to see a lot more of me in the future too, because I’m used to popping in and out without warning.’

‘We’re always happy to see you, when you can get away,’ Aunt Hebe said fondly.

‘I’m told you often bring friends to stay for the weekend too?’ I said, still feeling ratty.

‘Yes, of course, in the summer. William never minded who I invited.’

‘Neither do I. In fact, the more the merrier, since from now on, all my visitors will have to come prepared to work hard for their keep,’ I said firmly, deciding to make my position plain from the outset. I wasn’t running a country house hotel and there was no slack in my budget for freeloaders—except Jack, I suppose, who had so far proved to be ornamental rather than useful.

‘
Work?
’ he said, as though it was an alien concept.

‘Cleaning, polishing, painting and decorating—helping to get the place straight again. And if they’re here when the house is open to the public, they might even find themselves selling tickets or helping in the tearoom.’

‘One doesn’t generally expect to work when invited for a country house weekend visit, dear,’ Aunt Hebe pointed out. ‘You go for walks and play tennis and that kind of thing.’

‘Things change, Aunt Hebe.’

Like the tennis court, soon to be transformed into a croquet lawn…I’d noticed that Seth had taken down the netting already, though apparently no one else had.

‘Right…’ Jack said, looking thoughtfully at me. ‘But you know, I always hated the idea of my home being open to anyone with the price of a ticket, so I really hope you will think better of that idea. It’s not going to bring in the kind of income you need to keep a place of this size running.’ He rose to his feet. ‘But we can discuss it tomorrow—and perhaps, if you are really not too tired, you wouldn’t mind running me down to the pub before you go to bed? I’ll probably get a lift back.’

He would need to. While I had drunk only one (fairly lethal) cocktail and a lot of water, he had also demolished most of a bottle of wine, and then chased his coffee down with a stiff whisky.

‘Yes of course, and I’ll come in for a quick drink too, Jack. It’s early, after all. But after that, I’ll leave you to it and come home.’

For a moment I thought Jack looked almost disconcerted, but I must have imagined it because he said warmly, ‘That’s even better, Sophy!’ and Aunt Hebe beamed on us.

The Green Man was large, full, warm and noisy, though when I walked in with Jack right behind me, there was a sudden lull and every head turned in our direction, as though the film had stuck in one of those old Westerns when the hero enters the saloon. But before I had time to feel paranoid they all looked away again and the babble resumed.

There were familiar faces—Seth and a group including a couple of the gardeners were playing darts at the far end of the L-shaped room, and Grace was perched on a tall stool in front of the mahogany bar, her little strapped shoes dangling way above the brass foot rail. She flapped her hand at me in greeting.

A voice from behind us, very loud and county, bellowed, ‘Over here, Jack—and bring your new filly with you!’

‘This filly, Freddie, is my lovely cousin Sophy,’ Jack said, putting a proprietorial arm around my waist. ‘Be nice!’

Freddie had a red face, straw-coloured hair and a tendency to talk to my breasts. He was sitting with several other people, who Jack introduced me to in dizzyingly quick succession. I didn’t really take in their names, except to notice that the women’s included a China and an India—and, for all I knew, a Tasmania and an Outer Mongolia.

They were all eyeing me appraisingly, but I suppose, being Jack’s friends, they
would
be interested in the usurper—and
I
was equally interested in seeing the crowd Jack would rather hang out with than be with me. After all, that had been the main reason I’d suggested coming in for a drink in the first place—sheer curiosity.

There was a curious similarity about the women, who were all skinny and wearing skimpy tops and jeans that they hadn’t picked up at a supermarket with the weekly shop. Some of them were probably as old as me, but it was impossible to tell because they had all Botoxed, Pilated and face-lifted their way to the same toned and smooth-skinned blankness.

I immediately felt fat, overdressed and cheap—but then, as one of the gardeners at Blackwalls used to say, a weed is just a flower growing in the wrong place. The dartboard end of the room, where Seth seemed to hang out, was
much
more my kind of ambience, and Seth, who had exchanged his usual layers of ratty jumpers for a black fleece and jeans, much more my usual kind of man…

Well, apart from the instant antipathy and his bad temper, that is.

Some of the women reluctantly shifted up and made room for me to sit on the curved bench seat, by moving their enormous, baggy leather handbags onto the shelf behind; but the body language was making it very clear
that never in a month of Sundays would I be accepted as one of
this
crowd.

Jack went to the bar to get drinks and the group, ignoring me, resumed a desultory conversation about things and people I didn’t know that seemed designed to show me just how much of a fish-out-of-water I was. I mean, as far as I’m concerned Polo means a mint with a hole in it, and my one experience of London life was a weekend trip with the WI to see
Miss Saigon
and the wonders of Harrods (mostly the perfume department—they had to prise me out, laden with sample cards).

I thought it would be better when Jack came back, but apart from putting his arm around me again and giving me one of his dazzling smiles, he joined right in. I sat there sipping a Coke and contemplating my exit strategies.

Ten minutes seemed plenty long enough—in fact, if I hadn’t been checking the clock over the bar I would have thought it was more like an hour. I was just about to plead exhaustion and make my escape, when a hush fell on the room for the second time that evening.

Thankfully, this time it wasn’t me but Melinda Christopher who had provoked the silence, and for a minute or two she just stood there smiling like the Snow Queen in all her shimmering, icy beauty, and let them look at her. The smile brightened when she spotted our group…Then her light brown eyes rested on Jack sitting close to me, and narrowed, though I don’t know why because she turned on her stiletto heels and made for Seth like an arrow flying to its target.

He didn’t seem noticeably welcoming, but he certainly got the full treatment—the kiss on the cheek, the hand on the arm, the earnest gaze up into his face as she stood close to him—all performed with little glances over his shoulder to where we were sitting so that I started to wonder if this was for Jack’s benefit?

And if so, was Jack aware of it? Was that the reason why he suddenly remembered my existence and began to flirt with me, or did I have a nasty, suspicious mind? His technique was just as good as Melinda’s: his head close to mine, his voice low and intimate…The aftershave alone was enough to render me semi-conscious.

Whatever his motives were I was, I have to admit, starting to enjoy it, when a crisp voice said, right behind me, ‘Aren’t you going to introduce me to your new
friend
, Jack?’

The Ice Queen cometh.

‘Budge up, everyone, and let Mel sit on the other side of Jack,’ Freddie shouted gaily. ‘Make it a clean fight, girls!’

‘Shut up, Freddie,’ Jack said, looking embarrassed, but he didn’t object when Mel squeezed in on his other side. In fact, he made room for her, which left me practically hanging off the end of the bench seat. ‘This is Sophy, Mel—a cousin of sorts. I told you about her.’

I leaned forward, so it didn’t look as if I was hiding behind Jack. ‘Actually, we’ve already met, in a manner of speaking. Your horse tried to sit on my van, the day I arrived here.’

‘Oh?’ She gave me a blank, bored stare, though I had the feeling she knew exactly who I was. ‘I don’t remember—but hi, anyway.’ Then she added something in a low voice, so
I
couldn’t hear, but everyone else did, because they all laughed.