A Winter’s Tale (38 page)

‘They don’t. There’s a bottom gate on to the main road and they park down there. It’s just cars at the top. Hal and Bob take it in turns to check up on the car park, to see everything is OK.’

‘I haven’t noticed any facilities for disabled visitors.’

‘I think Sir William said that since it’s a private house, you don’t have to have them, and in any case it would be almost impossible to adapt a house of this age. He allowed pushchairs and wheelchairs through the house, but not those enormous baby buggies or electric scooters. And of course they have to get up and down the steps at either end to get in and out.’

‘Perhaps we can put wooden ramps at the front and back doors when we are open. And you know the golf buggy Grandfather used in his last months to get around the gardens, the one that’s still in the stables?’

He nodded.

‘It’s a big one, so I thought someone could go up and down the drive on open days picking up and dropping off any visitors who have trouble walking.’

‘Why do I have the feeling there goes another gardener?’ he groaned.

‘Oh, I don’t know. I think one of the Friends might enjoy driving it. I’ll discuss it with them at this Christmas party I’m supposed to be organising.’

He locked the ticket-office door behind us and then invited me into his side for a cup of coffee and, since I was desperately curious to see his home, I agreed.

We went straight into a comfortable small sitting room and through into a large, untidy, light and airy studio at the back. There was no evidence of Mel’s presence here, not even a photograph or a lingering trace of the mingled fragrance of horse and Arpège that was particularly her own. But there were shelves and shelves of books, a workbench
and a drawing board with a half-completed diagram of a knot on it. There was also a leather sofa that I arranged myself on, trying to look as if I hadn’t been nosily poking about, before Seth came back with the coffee.

While we drank the coffee he told me all about the knot he had been designing down in Devon and I told him about all the weird things in the curio cabinets that I hadn’t yet identified. He was just promising to come and have a look at them, when we heard a vehicle pull up outside and the sound of voices, and went out to investigate.

There, with its nose under the arch, was a large, elderly ambulance, painted a fetching sky blue with fluffy clouds drifting up the sides. Facing it, planted firmly in the centre of the drive with his hand held up, was policeman Mike.

A woman was leaning out of the window, her long red dreadlocks swinging, and neither of them noticed us: she and Mike were too busy staring at each other.

Then suddenly Mike’s face split into a great grin and she smiled back.

Beside me, Seth assumed an expression of resignation. ‘Don’t tell me,’ he said, ‘it’s a friend of yours, isn’t it?’

Anya had arrived.

Chapter Twenty-six: First Impressions

I have received word from my father who says that he knew I would come to a bad end and that he washes his hands of mee. No one it seems will say anything in my defence and several near Wynter’s End have now come forward to say I have cursed them ill…Mary Wynter will not let my baby come to mee, but Joan is to bring mee any necessities. My chamber is damp and dark and my cough worsens.

From the journal of Alys Blezzard, 1582

‘Oh, Anya, it’s so good to see you!’ I said, as I sat beside her in the van. Looking in the wing mirror I could see the two men standing on the drive gazing after us. Mike, looking dazed, raised one hand and flapped it.

‘I think Mike’s waving at you.’

‘Is that what he’s called? He’s not your run-of-the mill fuzz, is he? And he’s cheeky, too. When I stopped he said, “Stand and deliver—your money or your life.” I’m sure that’s not in the policeman’s handbook.’

‘He’s from Liverpool, he can’t help it,’ I explained. ‘Scousers are all like that. Did he say anything else?’

‘Yes, he asked me if I had a ring on my finger as well as through my nose. Then he said he didn’t think he could arrest me for anything just yet, but he would work on it, and was I a friend of yours?’

‘You certainly seemed to make an impression on him
and
on Seth too, though since I think he was half expecting a whole convoy of New-Age travellers to turn up, he wasn’t as horrified as I expected.’

‘Seth being the handsome gardener?’

‘Oh, Seth’s not really handsome, or not the way Jack is. He’s stunning!’

‘Attractive, then, if you want to nit-pick. He looked pretty good to me.’

‘He
is
attractive when he’s all glowing and enthusiastic about his knot gardens,’ I conceded.

‘And Mike’s not bad either. In fact, you seem to be entirely surrounded by tasty men. Are there any more lurking in the undergrowth?’

‘Wait until you see Jonah, he’s the best of the bunch,’ I promised her. ‘Carry on left here at the front of the house. You can leave the van in the courtyard at the back and we’ll bring the rest of your things in later.’

‘Not if that’s the house.’ She had come almost to a stop and was staring at Winter’s End aghast. ‘I’d much, much rather stay in the van.’

‘Don’t be such an inverted snob! If
I
can live in Winter’s End, my friends can too. It isn’t that grand.’

‘This from someone who lived in a two up, two down, tied cottage with an outside toilet—or even in a static caravan for a short while? No, thanks, and I’ll hide the van out of the way somewhere. What’s through that arch over the other side?’

‘The pigsty and the rear drive. You can get back into the village that way.’

‘The pigsty sounds much more my scene.’

She drove through and parked neatly behind the coach house, half-hidden by bushes, then gave me a little tissue-wrapped parcel. ‘It’s a sorry-you-got-banged-on-the-head
present,’ she explained. ‘Though the black eye is a bit of a disappointment—it’s practically gone.’

‘It was a cracker while it lasted.’ I eagerly unwrapped the paper to reveal a pair of earrings that she had made herself, from snipped tin and appliquéd chocolate bar wrappers.

‘Oooh, wonderful! Let me put them on.’ I admired myself in the rear-view mirror. ‘You are clever! Come on, let’s take your bags and I’ll show you round the house. I’m sure you’ll change your mind about not wanting to stay there. I’ve got the Chinese bedroom ready for you, and you’ll love it.’

She looked doubtful, but I took her in by way of the kitchen and introduced her to the Larks first, before springing the rest of the house on her. She immediately endeared herself to them by playing with the kitten and eating four large, sugar-sifted warm doughnuts, one after the other, which was two more than even I could manage.

Mrs Lark admired my earrings. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything quite like them. Are those KitKat wrappers?’

‘Yes—Anya made them. She makes jewellery from things people throw away, like tin cans and chocolate wrappers. Just like a Womble.’

‘I’ll make you a pair of earrings too, Mrs Lark,’ promised Anya.

‘I’m hoping to sell Anya’s jewellery in our shop,’ I said, getting up and wiping jam and sugar off my chin. ‘Well, come on and I’ll show you round the rest of the house.’

‘You were right, Jonah
is
a dish,’ she said when we were in the Great Hall with the heavy kitchen door shut behind us. ‘It’s the mutton-chop whiskers that do it for me.’

‘If elderly men float your boat, I also have a vintage but
very
handsome estate manager—my steward, Mr Yatton. But he’s only here weekday mornings and you might have to compete with Lucy when she gets home.’

‘Has she said when she’s coming back?’

‘Not yet. I thought she was on the point of giving in her notice, but now she’s gone back to saying she must see out her contract to the end.’ I sighed. ‘Well, never mind. Do you want to do the guided tour now?’

‘Love it!’ she said promptly.

Charlie had followed us out of the kitchen and now lay stretched out on the rag rug in front of the fire, instantly asleep. We left Anya’s bags at the bottom of the stairs and I took her all over Winter’s End, telling her my plans, until we ended up, ages later, in the dismal excuse for a tearoom.

‘I haven’t really started on this area yet, except for deciding what sort of basic stock we should have—you know, mementoes of Winter’s End. I want it to be a craft shop and gallery as well as a tearoom. I’ve already got Aunt Hebe on my side about opening the house by offering to sell her lotions and potions in the shop.’

Anya looked around assessingly. ‘You have two very good-sized rooms here, plus that little conservatory thing—you can probably seat as many as forty people.’ She flung open a door, revealing an empty room with a channel down one side of the stone floor and some metal shelving. ‘What’s this?’

‘I think it might have been the brewery once, and now they use it to store stuff in for the tearoom.’

‘I’m sure there are lots of other storage rooms doing nothing, and you could fit this out as a proper shop.’ She turned on her heel, and waved a hand at the rest of the place. ‘I mean, hang paintings around the café, and have narrow shelves out there filled with things to sell, by all means, but have the till and most of the stock in here.’

‘I see what you mean…’ I said thoughtfully. ‘But we’d have to have more lighting in here, and an electric socket or two.’

‘I think it would be ideal. What were you thinking of
doing with the tearoom part, Sophy? It looks depressingly dreary at the moment.’

‘Paint the walls a warm cream colour, for a start, and then have all the tables and drop-in chair seats covered in the same material…something lively.’

‘A large gingham check would look good. You can get PVC tablecloth material in that too, which would save laundering,’ Anya suggested. ‘What kind of food do they serve?’

‘Just cakes, scones, sandwiches, with tea or coffee. I suppose they have cold drinks too.’

‘Well, that’s all right if you don’t want to provide full meals, though you could quite easily have hot soup and rolls and maybe salads? Plus, there’s plenty of room for a freezer for lollies and ice cream, plus a tall chiller cabinet over there by the wall, so people could collect their cold drinks first and put them on their trays while queuing for food.’

‘That sounds a lot more practical—and professional,’ I agreed. ‘But the teashop is manned by my volunteers, and I’m not too sure yet how they will take to change.’

‘I’ve worked in both teashops and craft centres, don’t forget,’ she said. ‘I could help you set it all up and get it running.’

‘I did think of asking you, but would you actually
like
a permanent job? I know you said you’d like to settle down near Guy, but I wasn’t sure if you were serious. And the salary wouldn’t be very high, especially at first.’

‘Yes, I’m serious, though I’m pretty sure I’d still want to travel in the van every winter for a month or two, and sell my jewellery at craft fairs. I don’t need much money and I’ll be selling my jewellery in the shop too, won’t I? I could even set up a workshop area at the back and make it there when it is quiet, so people can watch me.’

I smiled at her ideas. ‘Oh, Anya, it would be even more fun if you were here too!’

‘Yes, I think it
would
be fun, with the bonus of being
able to see more of Guy—though not too much, because he won’t want his mother popping in every five minutes.’

‘How is he settling in?’ I asked, because she had been to see him before coming here.

‘Fine. He’s renting a flat and enjoying his job, but he finished with his girlfriend just a couple of weeks ago, so he’s a bit down about that. Maybe he’ll find someone new where he’s working—it’s some sort of research lab, not much more than thirty miles from here. It’s odd how conveniently things have worked out.’

‘I wish Lucy were only thirty miles away too, and maybe I wouldn’t worry quite so much.’

‘Lucy’s the most sensible, capable, kick-ass girl I’ve ever met in my life, so don’t worry, Sophy.’

‘I can’t help it. Mr Yatton hatched a cunning plan to lure her back home again by getting her involved in running the estate. He emails her all the time with figures and spreadsheets and stuff, but although she’s fascinated, it hasn’t worked yet.’

‘It probably will with a bit more time, because she loves number-crunching and paperwork, doesn’t she? And she’s a born manager.’

‘She’s a bossy-boots,’ I agreed.

‘Well, just don’t let her rule your life again when she does get back. Guy sends both of you his love, by the way.’

‘I’ll tell her. She keeps asking after him.’ I had a sudden idea. ‘Look, why don’t you and Guy come here for Christmas? It would be lovely to have you, and we could make a start on sorting the shop and café out then, too.’

‘Sounds good.’