A Winter’s Tale (40 page)

He knew Seth and came over to speak to us, and it turned out he was Nick Pharamond, one of the family from the local big house. He told Seth that his wife hadn’t come because she had gone right off fireworks after a nasty incident.

A few minutes later I knew just how she felt, because a particularly loud bang seemed to set off a sort of chain reaction in my head and I grabbed Seth’s arm excitedly. ‘I’ve just remembered something about the day I had the accident. As I went into the summerhouse I could smell perfume and—’

I stopped dead, because there was only one woman I knew who wore that particular combination of hot horse and Arpège.

Seth was looking down at me, frowning. ‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes…or at least, I think I am. But perhaps I imagined it, and it doesn’t get us any further anyway, does it?’ I said hastily. ‘Forget it!’

I found I was still holding on to his arm and he’d put one of his large hands over mine in a very comforting sort of way. ‘If I knew who did it…’ he began menacingly, but the rest was perhaps fortunately drowned out by a series of loud flashes and bangs.

‘I think that was the grand finale,’ Anya said, appearing out of the darkness with her knitted hat jammed down right over her dreadlocks and her coat collar turned up, Mike right behind her. ‘We’re a bit sticky because we’ve been eating candyfloss—that’s not something you usually get at bonfire parties, is it?’

‘It is in Middlemoss,’ Seth said, and then suggested we all call in at the Green Man on the way home. He entirely forgot to let go of my hand until we got back to the car, but I expect his mind was on something else, like one of his infernal knots.

It occurred to me suddenly, right out of the blue, that I’d had more fun since I got to Winter’s End than I had done in the last twenty years, precious moments with Lucy excepted.

We were late getting back to Winter’s End. The fire in the Great Hall was banked down, with the guard in front of it, Charlie was snoozing in his basket in the kitchen and Aunt Hebe and the Larks long gone to bed.

I’d left my phone behind again and missed three calls from Jack. I hoped he’d given up for the evening, but no, he called again just as I was climbing into bed, which was
really annoying because I’d plugged the mobile into the charger on the other side of the room.

‘Sophy? Where’ve you been?’ he demanded.

‘Out celebrating Bonfire Night. My friend Anya’s staying here for a couple of days and we drove over to Middlemoss with Seth and Mike—do you know Mike? He’s the local bobby.’

‘No,’ he said shortly.

‘We had a great time. But funnily enough, it seemed to kick-start my memory, and I remembered something I’d noticed, just before my accident in the summerhouse.’

‘Oh? Well, it wasn’t
me
lurking about in the undergrowth, darling.’

‘I know that, it was nothing to do with you—unless you’ve started wearing Arpège perfume, that is?’

He sighed. ‘Mel? Actually, I suspected as much, though I’m sure she didn’t mean you any real harm.’

‘But why would she want to hurt me at all?’ I asked, trying to imagine the elegant Mel being that vindictive…which actually wasn’t hard.

‘Because she’s jealous of you, of course.’

‘Jealous of
me
?’

‘Yes, because of Seth. She’s crazy about him, and not only did she find him in a clinch with you in the Great Hall that time, he also seems to be spending more and more time with you. Like tonight, for instance,’ he added smoothly.

‘Me and two other people! And Seth’s not interested in me that way, so she has no reason to feel jealous.’

‘Perhaps if you weren’t seen out and about with him so much…?’ he suggested.

‘He’s my head gardener—of course I’m going to be seen with him!
And
he’s family. But the point is, she could have killed me, and she might have hurt Charlie too. It was sheer luck he was OK!’

‘I’m sure she didn’t mean anything except to give you a warning scare,’ he said easily. ‘She thinks you’re invading her territory.’

‘Oh, yes? And this would be the woman I saw snogging you in the shrubbery when you came here for lunch recently?’

There was a small pause. ‘Oh, come on, darling, that was nothing! Mel still likes to think she could get me back if she wanted to, though I’ve made it clear that I’m only interested in you. That’s annoyed her, but not half as much as thinking you’re moving in on Seth too.’

‘Well, I’m not,’ I said shortly.

‘I’m glad to hear that,’ he said softly. ‘It seems ages since I saw you, but I’ll be down for Christmas, of course, and I’m looking forward to spending lots of time with you then—
and
afterwards, because I have an invitation to pass on to you.’

‘An invitation? For me?’

‘Yes, I always go out to Barbados to stay with friends the day after Boxing Day, and when I told them about you, they said they would love to have you too.’

‘What,
me
? The Caribbean?’ I exclaimed, all tiredness suddenly dispelled by thoughts of coral beaches and palm trees.

‘Yes, you!’ He sounded amused. ‘I assume you’ve got a passport?’

‘Well, yes, I won a weekend in Paris a few years ago. But—’

‘We’ll have a great time, Sophy, and really have a chance to get to know one another—three weeks in paradise. They have a lovely house with a pool, and we’ll go snorkelling and water ski. And they throw wonderful parties—everyone comes, you’ll love it. It’ll be romantic, too…imagine you and me in the evenings, walking along a coral beach.’

‘But, Jack, I can’t possibly go away after Christmas,’ I said blankly, ‘there’s too much to do organising everything in time for the Valentine’s Day opening, for a start!’

‘Oh, come on, Sophy, it’ll be much more fun than playing Lady of the Manor! It’s time you scrapped these mad ideas and let me take care of all your worries. I promise you, you’ll feel totally differently by the time we get back from Barbados.’

‘I’m not the one with mad ideas,
you
are!’ I snapped, now wide-awake but exhausted enough after an eventful day to be ratty. ‘I won’t feel differently because I’m not going to Barbados—I’m enjoying planning everything here at Winter’s End and there’s loads to do.’

‘Check your passport is still current, darling,’ he said, blithely ignoring most of what I’d just said, ‘because I’m very sure I can change your mind over Christmas!’

I said something so rude that Aunt Hebe would have been scrubbing my mouth out with disinfectant, but it was too late—he’d gone. I had to content myself with waking Anya up and pouring what he’d said, word for word, into her reluctant ears.

I was
so
going to miss her when she left next day—and I was already missing Alys, who hadn’t seemed to have been around lately. Perhaps she’d return when I was alone?

Heading back down the dimly lit corridor to my bedroom, I whispered experimentally: ‘And where was my guardian angel when the summerhouse fell on me, Alys?’ but there was no reply, not even a chill breeze round the extremities.

Chapter Twenty-eight: Vixens

Sir Ralph came to mee and said his conscience was sore troubled, as well it might be, but begged mee not to tell the truth in the matter of his hiding the priest, since it would bring disaster upon the house. I told him I would not, for my child’s sake, but nor would I admit to practising the dark arts for the same reason. Then I began to cough and could not stop, to his alarm, for I have the same malady that affected my husband and the days of my life would soon run through my fingers like sand even were I not imprisoned here.

From the journal of Alys Blezzard, 1582

I awoke one morning to find a fluffy white blanket over the landscape, and after breakfast I went out to the top terrace to admire my very own winter wonderland.

Below, with his broad back to me, stood Seth, brooding over the fact that he would get no work on the terrace done that day.

It was just too much to resist…

My first snowball landed with a
flump!
right between his shoulder blades and the second skimmed the top of his dark head. Then I dodged down behind the balustrade, but too late—he’d seen me.

‘Come out, Sophy! I know it’s you,’ he called up.

I should have had better sense than to stand up, because I was instantly almost knocked off my feet by his return shot. Snow got in my hood and melted, trickling icily down my back.

He was grinned triumphantly.

‘I’ll get you for that, Seth Greenwood!’ I yelled, and for the next few minutes we pelted each other, though since I was higher up I think I had the advantage…though maybe he was the better shot.

Anyway, honours were about even by the time Aunt Hebe popped her head out of the door and demanded to know what on earth I was doing.

‘Nothing,’ I replied innocently, just as a parting shot from below almost propelled me into her arms.

I just hoped Seth was as cold and wet as I was.

‘Your voice sounds odd,’ Anya said, ringing me from somewhere near Coventry, where she was doing a Christmas craft fair. ‘Where are you?’

‘I
was
inside a packing crate,’ I said, picking bits of straw and polystyrene beads out of my hair. ‘Lady Betty’s legacy has arrived, and it’s rather large, to say the least.’

‘What’s she left you?’

‘It looks like a stone statue of a hippopotamus.’ I glanced at the head, which was the only bit unwrapped, and it looked back in a fairly amiable way. ‘There were at least two Egyptian gods who sometimes appeared in that form, but if it looks pregnant when I’ve unpacked it, then it’s Tawaret. I don’t know if it’s really old or not. It looks pretty authentic, but a lot of her collection was fake. She had no eye for antiquities at all.’

‘Have you decided where you’re going to put it?’

‘Yes, there’s an empty alcove in the Long Room and I’ve already moved two ushabti from the parlour up there, so
I can have an Egyptian antiquities corner. It’s so big that it’s going to take all the gardeners, including Seth, to carry it upstairs. But it shouldn’t take long, so I don’t think he’ll mind
very
much.’

‘Oh, the Gorgeous Gardener might protest a lot, but I suspect he’s really putty in your hands, Sophy.’

‘Don’t be daft,’ I said, amazed. ‘I have to fight him over every little thing. He might be putty in
someone’s
hands, but they’re certainly not mine. Are you doing well at the craft fairs?’

‘Fine. I’m hoping to be sold out by Christmas. How are things your end?’

‘We’ve had a cold snap and it snowed. The garden looks so magical that Mr Yatton’s taken lots of photographs and we’re going to use one or two for postcards. He and Lucy are currently sourcing stock for the shop on the internet—you know, the sort of place who will print what we want on everything. When I told Lucy you and Guy were going to be here for Christmas I could tell she was dying to come home—but no, she has to be Little Miss Honourable and stick it out to the end of her contract.’

‘That’s Lucy for you,’ Anya commiserated, ‘though it would have been lovely to see her again, of course. Have you had time to do any more to the shop and tearoom?’

‘Yes, Grace helped me to clean the place out and I’ve bought the material for the curtains and chair cushions—bright red gingham in a big check—which someone in the village is going to make up. Mr Yatton found me a supplier of a matching PVC table covering by the metre on the internet, but we can cut that to fit the tables ourselves. I’ll get the electrician in to install a couple more electric sockets and better lighting later, when the Herring painting is sold and I’ve got a bit of money. I simply daren’t do anything expensive at the moment.’

‘Well, that’s a start,’ she agreed. ‘You’ve been pretty busy!’

‘I don’t think I’m going to do much more to it before the New Year, except hijack Bob and Hal to paint the rooms when Seth isn’t looking—not that there’s a huge amount to do in a garden at this time of year anyway. But I need to keep him sweet because he’s designing the new garden guide and helping me put the last touches to the guidebook. They’re almost ready to go to press.’

‘He’s worth his weight in visitor tickets, that man. You need to hang on to him,’ Anya said. ‘And you’re not even paying him anything!’

‘Actually, I’d arrived at much the same conclusion myself,’ I confessed, ‘though if he comes with Mel permanently attached, the price of having him around might be too high.’

‘Perhaps he’s got over her now, like a fever?’ she suggested optimistically. ‘I mean, you said you’d never seen them out together?’

‘No, but I see her car, or her horse, near the lodge and in the grounds often enough. She haunts the place when he’s here.’

‘Maybe, but could you see her living in the lodge, a gardener’s wife?’