New Boss at Birchfields (4 page)

Briony had been regarding her godmother, seeing her with new eyes now that she herself was an adult. It was strange to discover that Hettie was not as tall as she had imagined her, but was in fact rather petite. Nor was she as old as she had appeared to the child, although her dark hair was sprinkled with white. She had bright high colouring and a resolute expression about her mouth and immediately gave the impression of being a little lady whom it would not be wise to trifle with.

‘
Come and sit by the fire.
’
Hettie poked it hospitably.
‘
You
’
re just in time for a nice cup of tea. I
’
ve some scones new out of the oven, so we may as well have them now. And then you must tell me what
’
s brought you to Deeside, for I
’
ve the feeling,
’
she added a little slyly,
‘
that you didn
’
t come all this way just to visit your old godmother.
’

She brushed the magazines from the table, laid a cloth and set out cups and saucers.

While they had tea Hettie questioned Briony about family affairs and Briony brought her up to date as well as she could without revealing the reason that had brought her to Aberdeen, simply saying that she would have liked to get a job here but had decided to pay a flying visit before making any decision.

But soon she discovered that she was losing Hettie
’
s attention. There was only one subject that really interested her godmother, and that was Blane Lennox and the alterations he was making at her beloved Birchfields.

Hettie
’
s face tightened as she asked,
‘
I suppose you called at Birchfields and they directed you on here?
’

‘
Yes, I came across a boy there who told me you were living at the cottage now.
’
Briony forbore to add how
shocked she had been to see the alterations in Birchfields.

But Hettie wasn
’
t listening. She poked the fire, her lips pursed.
‘
Not that one can call it Birchfields any longer, because it doesn
’
t exist now! There
’
s simply nothing that he hasn
’
t changed. I can hardly bear to pass the place now. Those horrible white railings, instead of the old walls! He bulldozed the old birchwoods and crushed the greenhouses.
’

‘
I suppose he would need the space if he
’
s running a riding school,
’
Briony said consolingly.
‘
The woods would probably be a hazard, especially for young pupils.
’

But this was an unfortunate remark, she quickly discovered. Hettie stiffened.
‘
Am I to take it, then, that you prefer Birchfields as it is now?
’

‘
No, of course not!
’
Briony assured her hastily.
‘
But if this new owner is running the place as a business he
’
s bound to take a practical view of things.
’

‘
Oh, he
’
s running it as a business all right,
’
Hettie said dryly.
‘
He
’
s turned Birchfields into a sort of horses
’
playground. Everything must be done for their convenience and human beings count for nothing. But then the man has no real breeding. You must have seen those great vulgar signs of his pointing out the way to his school. And this is only the beginning! I
’
ve heard from Annie Skinner—I suppose you
’
ll hardly remember her, but she used to run the shop when you were here last.
’

Briony smiled.
‘
I remember her all right. I used to buy soor plooms in the shop. What became of it anyway? I see there
’
s a new shop now.
’

‘
Not a new shop,
’
Hettie corrected.
‘
Annie still runs it. She has expanded, you see. And
Anni
e knows everything that goes on in the village. It seems it
’
s been arranged that some of the girls from Laureston School are to take riding lessons. Well, all I can say is I pity the poor parents. He
’
s sure to charge sky-high fees, because he knows that only wealthy parents can afford to send their children to Laureston.
’

Briony glanced across at her godmother. How bitter Hettie had become! And she wondered for a moment if it was because Hettie saw living in the cottage as a comedown in the world.
‘
After Roy died Birchwoods must have been too large for you to manage on your own,
’
she urged.
‘
And you seem so comfortable here, with all your own treasures about you!
’
She glanced at the dainty Chippendale cabinet in its place in the
corner
of the room.

‘
That
’
s all very well and good,
’
Hettie replied impatiently,
‘
but here am I in this poky cottage while Lennox lords it up there at Birchfields! He managed to put me out of that all right! He worked for it and succeeded!
’

Briony looked at her in amazement. What on earth could she mean by that last remark? But perhaps Hettie meant nothing very special. Perhaps it was no more than the outpourings of a woman who was bitter and resentful.

As though guessing her godchild
’
s reaction, Hettie said quickly,
‘
But there, I
’
m becoming quite a bore about that man! I think, for a change, we
’
ll do the dishes. You wash, if you like, and I
’
ll dry.
’

Goodnaturedly Briony helped her godmother to wash the tea things. And afterwards, when she was shown to her room under the eaves she found that it contained one of Hettie
’
s treasures, a single fourposter hung with crisp muslin. Briony helped her make up the bed with snowy starched linen and a patchwork quilt.

Afterwards, when she had unpacked and arranged her clothes in the William and Mary tallboy, she told Hettie she would like to take a stroll through the village and catch up with some of the changes that had occurred since her last visit.

As she walked along she had time to consider what plans she should make for the future.

Instinctively she rejected the idea of returning home and having to confess that Jeremy had let her down. Let her down was putting it too mildly, she thought dryly. In fact, she had been jilted. She might be able to obtain a position in Aberdeen, of course, if she searched for it, but better still, it would be wonderful if she could find employment here in Abergour. Not that there was any possibility of that. It was a typical Highland community, of crofters, the land tapering out into glens with groves of birch and alder, with here and there little rivulets of water streaming down through the ferns and bracken and running in dark peaty streams along the sides of the road. This was not the type of place in which her particular training would find an outlet, she thought wryly.

She paused outside the general store with the double windows which she had noticed as she drove through the village. Inside she spotted a revolving stand with views of the surrounding countryside. She would send a card to her mother, she decided. She had picked out a view of the fairy-tale castle, Craigievar, when she heard a voice at her elbow,
‘
You
’
re Briony Walton, aren
’
t you?
’

Briony swung around to find herself being surveyed by a tall, stout woman with red, scrubbed cheeks and bright enquiring eyes.

‘
You don
’
t remember me,
’
the woman said.
‘
I
’
m Annie Skinner. I used to come to Birchfields to help sort the fruit and vegetables for the market. And that was in between serving in the shop,
’
she added with a chuckle.

‘
But of course I remember you,
’
Briony told her.
‘
I used to buy soor plooms in the shop. I suppose you don
’
t have them now. They
’
ll be old-fashioned, I suppose.
’

‘
Not at all!
’
Annie pointed to a glass jar containing very large boiled sweets in the shape of round green balls.
‘
The people here in Abergour still ask for them. But mostly I sell them to the tourists. Some of them are Scottish from way far back and remember them from their childhood. I always keep plenty in stock.
’

‘
Soor plooms! That means sour plums, doesn
’
t it?
’
Briony asked.

‘
Yes. There
’
s no doubt they
’
re a bit acid,
’
Annie agreed,
‘
but then young stomachs make light of that.
’

‘
The shop
’
s much larger than it was,
’
Briony remarked.

Annie nodded.
‘
Yes. I bought up the cottage next door and had another window put in. Almost like a supermarket now, isn
’
t it? I
’
d have known you anywhere,
’
Annie pursued,
‘
because your hair was always that strange colour, the colour of a rowan berry, I used often say. But besides that I heard there was a stranger at Hettie
’
s cottage, and as soon as I saw you I put two and two together.
’

So Hettie was right, Briony was thinking. There was very little escaped Annie Skinner
’
s eagle eye.

‘
Oh yes, there have been great changes at Abergour since you were here last,
’
Annie went on.
‘
And I won
’
t deny that at times it
’
s been hard to manage. But the village is becoming more and more popular with tourists, even if some of them only stop off for a little while before travelling further west. Still, all in all, I haven
’
t done too badly, and I must admit this new Lennox Riding School has made quite a difference. You see, we all thought at first he was going to keep Birchfields on as a market garden, but when he set about tearing everything down, trees and shrubs, and to flatten the land itself and make it as smooth as a billiard table
—
well, it soon became clear to us he had other ideas. The next thing we knew there were those big notices by the roadside. Poor Hettie took it badly. I think she had the idea everything was going to go on as it had done before she sold it. But times change, and it
’
s not always for the worst!
’

‘
Yes, she seems a bit upset about it,
’
Briony agreed cautiously.

‘
But how are you getting along yourself?
’
Annie asked.
‘
Hettie was telling me you have a big job in an important firm now. She always lets me know the news when your mother writes to her at Christmas. There was some talk too that you were thinking of getting married. I think your mother wrote about that some time back. Is it true
Mr.
Right has come along and there
’
s going to be wedding bells very soon?
’

Would it always be like this? Briony wondered, as she laughingly dismissed Annie Skinner
’
s remarks. Would she always have to make excuses, always have to disguise the truth that Jeremy had flung her over for a girl he considered more eligible?
‘
You were speaking about
Mr.
Lennox,
’
she put in quickly.

Luckily
Mrs.
Skinner allowed herself to be sidetracked.
‘
Oh yes, some changes are for the better! Take
Mr.
Lennox now. His coming has brought quite a bit of business to the village. And now that the children from the school are to be taught there, it will help even more. He has bought some Shetland ponies for the younger children. But he has all sorts of ponies and horses there. By all accounts he
’
s a splendid horseman himself and has won all sorts of prizes at shows for jumping and for his fine horses too. All the same, things aren
’
t running all too smooth for him at the moment,
’
she added with a tinge of satisfaction in her voice.
‘
He
’
s looking for a suitable girl to teach the very young children—not that he
’
ll be able to get anyone from Abergour to do it!
’

‘
But why is that?
’
Briony enquired.