One Secret Summer (16 page)

Over dinner, served by two uniformed servants in a beautifully appointed dining room overlooking the vast lawn and a lake
to the south of the house, Lady Barrington-Browne managed to draw out details of Julia’s childhood that she herself had forgotten.
Was it the wine, perhaps? No sooner had she taken a couple of sips of the most delicious red wine she’d ever had than someone
appeared with a crystal decanter and replenished her glass. There was poached salmon and tiny just-in-season potatoes with
a sprinkling of dill. ‘Everything we eat comes from the farm,’ Lady Barrington-Browne said proudly. She looked at her son.
‘It’s quite an enterprise, darling. You’ll have to go through it all with Father before you go back. You’d be amazed at how
well it’s doing.’

Dom grunted, much like his father. Julia hid her smile. She looked past Lady Barrington-Browne to the trees framed in the
window behind her. She felt the presence of the house and the weight of its history like someone standing at her shoulder.
It was strangely comforting. ‘It’s lovely here,’ she said suddenly, without meaning to.

‘Isn’t it?’ Lady Barrington-Browne followed her eyes. ‘I still remember the day my husband brought me here for the first time.
It was hard to say whom I loved more.’

‘Mother!’ Dom looked up from his plate. ‘That’s a terrible thing to say.’

‘Perhaps,’ Lady Barrington-Browne demurred. ‘But quite true. One day this will all be yours,’ she said, smiling at him. ‘And
your children’s.’

‘Mother.’ There was a faint warning in Dom’s voice.

‘All right, all right.’ She lifted her wine glass almost defiantly. ‘I just want you to be happy, darling.’

‘I
am
happy, Mother.’

‘I know you are. And you’ve brought Julia to visit. I’m
so
pleased.’

‘Mother.’ This time the warning was clear.

To cover her confusion and embarrassment, Julia suddenly found herself recounting a trip to a stately home that her parents
had taken her on when she was six. All she could remember about the outing was needing the bathroom, she laughed. She had
no recollection whatsoever about the house. Dom looked at her gratefully; his mother reached across the table and gripped
Julia’s forearm. ‘You poor, poor girl. Losing them both like that. What a terrible shock it must have been. You must look
upon us as family, dear Julia.’

‘Oh, I … I didn’t mean it like that,’ Julia stammered in embarrassment. ‘I … I wasn’t …’

‘Of course not. But I must say, you’re by far the most interesting person Dom’s brought home in a very long time. It’s usually
the Etonians … the ones who’re coming down tomorrow. What are their names again? Ah, yes … Aaron and Peregrine. Quite dull,
I find.’

‘Mother, that’s enough. Right. I’m going to show Julia the chapel and then we’re off to bed. It’s been a long day.’

‘Of course, darling. It’s a lovely chapel, Julia. Quite soothing. You must light a candle. Sleep well, won’t you? I’m going
riding tomorrow morning but I’ll see you at lunch. Mrs McCallum’s organised the menu for tomorrow night; it’s all perfectly
under control.’

‘As always. Night, Mother.’ Dom bent and gave his mother a kiss. ‘Come on.’ He turned to Julia. ‘She’s right. The chapel’s
wonderful. Puts you in a wonderfully serene state of mind.’

It
was
wonderful. Small, but exquisitely formed. The air was thick and sweet with the scent of lilies; as they pushed open the heavy
oak door, Julia again felt the comforting weight of centuries of wealth and tradition. She followed Dom down the nave until
they reached the altar. Rows of tea lights stood on either side of them. She followed his lead and lit one, placing it carefully
in the holder on the top row. The thin, flickering light grew steadily stronger, sending shadows dancing across the stone
floor and walls. She’d never been particularly religious – both her parents were lapsed Catholics – but there was something
beautiful and moving about being in the presence of God, which was the only way she knew to describe it. Her lips moved in
a silent prayer, but for once, there was little pain or sorrow attached. The family chapel was peaceful; when she got up a
few minutes later, the world suddenly seemed lighter, clearer. She followed Dom out into the cold night air, her hands stuffed
in the pockets of her coat. She slipped one into his arm and together they crossed the courtyard in companionable silence.
She was glad she’d come; it had been a long time since she’d been enveloped in the warmth of a real home, as vast as this
one was. It was a warmth that stayed with her all night.

The following afternoon, she and Dom were in the drawing room playing Scrabble when a maid entered to say the first guests
had arrived. All morning she’d heard the sounds of preparation coming from the vast kitchen below the entrance hall – the
clang of pots and pans, muted shouts, bottles being brought up from the cellar. She’d seen two uniformed maids trotting back
and forth between the kitchen and the formal dining room on the first floor with plates, cutlery, armfuls of fresh flowers
and bottles of wine. ‘How many people are coming?’ she’d asked in amazement.

‘Oh, a dozen or so. There’s the Balliol lot and a couple of other old Etonians. You’ll really like Simon – he’s been crewing
round the world for the past couple of years. Then there’s my cousin and two friends of hers. Keeler rang this morning and
asked if Minty could come—’

‘
Minty?
’ Julia’s face fell. ‘God, anyone but her. She’s awful.’
The memory of walking behind Minty and Aaron and listening to them discussing her still rankled.

‘What could I say? I know she’s a royal pain in the arse, but she and Keeler are practically joined at the hip these days.’

And now here she was. Julia could hear her voice before she actually appeared. ‘Ooh, isn’t this just
divine
?’

She winced, getting up from her position on the floor. ‘Well, just make sure I go easy on the champagne tonight,’ she said
darkly to Dom. ‘Otherwise I might give in to temptation and slap her one.’

Dom grinned. ‘In that case, Burrows, I’ll be plying you all night. You slapping Araminta Hedley-Tetherington? Now that I
have
to see.’

‘Dom …’

‘All right, all right. Keep your hair on. I’m only teasing.’

‘Christ, how the other half live.’ Aaron Keeler suddenly appeared in the doorway. Julia looked up. His eyes narrowed as he
caught sight of her. She ignored him as best she could. Behind him, peering eagerly around the room, was Minty, followed by
Peregrine and David, the impossibly foppish fourth member of their little set. Julia’s heart sank. She’d so thoroughly enjoyed
herself in the past twenty-four hours that the dinner party was a rude reminder of how difficult the rest of her stay would
be. She felt Minty’s eyes range over her jeans and sweater, coming to rest on her socks. In her neat little twinset with the
requisite pearls strung around her slender neck, Minty looked as though she’d stepped off another planet. Planet Wealth.
Oh, stop it
, Julia muttered to herself, clearing away the remains of their Scrabble game. She couldn’t afford to let Minty ruin what
had so far been the most enjoyable weekend she’d had in years. She followed the newly arrived guests out of the drawing room
and escaped to her room as quickly as her footsteps would carry her. It was nearly four. A few more hours until dinner. She’d
spend most of them reading, she thought to herself, and then she’d take a nice long bath and get ready. She almost laughed
out loud. Get ready? She’d never spent more than ten minutes getting ready
for anything. Tonight might be different. For the first time in ages, she felt a sudden impatience with the jeans and sweaters
that were her staple wardrobe. She looked at herself in the mirror on the wall next to her bed. She really ought to do something
with her hair. Shoulder-length, perfectly clean, perfectly manageable. She’d had the same cut for almost ten years. Not that
you could really call it a cut … it fell away from her face in a straight line to her shoulders. Nothing to it. Tonight, however
… she took a handful of it and piled it on top of her head. She turned her profile this way and that. Her ears suddenly looked
very bare. Earrings? She didn’t possess any. She let her hair drop again. She was being silly. Who cared what she looked like?
There was no one present whom she wanted to impress.

At quarter to eight on the dot, she opened her bedroom door and peered out. There was no one about. Dom had phoned up to instruct
everyone to be in the drawing room for drinks fifteen minutes before dinner. She walked a little unsteadily down the corridor
in her new high heels, trying not to think about her shoes, her dress, her hair and – most difficult of all – her makeup.
She’d experimented with a little mascara and eyeliner, not sure whether she liked the effect or not. It wasn’t as if she’d
never worn make-up before … more that she just wasn’t used to it. She put a hand up to her lips … yes, she’d remembered to
put on lipstick too. She crossed the Great Hall, her heels making a loud clacking sound on the marble floor, and walked down
the long corridor towards the sound of voices and music.

‘Ah, Julia … there you are.’ Lady Barrington-Browne, the picture of slender elegance in a dark blue silk dress, patted the
seat beside her. ‘You look lovely, my dear. Come and sit next to me.’ Julia avoided Minty’s jealous glare and crossed the
room, uncomfortably conscious of her every step. She perched on the edge of the sofa and gratefully accepted a glass of wine.
She took a larger sip than was perhaps necessary and looked around the room. Aside from the four people she knew, there were
six or seven others, all in evening dresses or black dinner jackets, dotted
around the room. They all knew each other, of course … they’d either been to the same nursery schools, boarding schools or
university halls. The well-trodden path, as Dom often put it. In one corner, standing by the window with a drink in hand,
was Aaron. He was alone; Minty had been waylaid by a girl in a long emerald-green dress who’d been at boarding school with
her, or so the conversation went. Quite why Minty’s voice carried so much further than anyone else’s was a mystery to Julia.
She seemed to think it necessary to speak several decibels louder than everyone around her. ‘Ooh, did she really? Oh, how
ghastly
! No! I can’t
imagine
her …’ And so on. Julia took a further sip of wine, enjoying the warmth it spread through her, bolstering her rather shaky
confidence just that little bit more. The clock struck 8 p.m. Lady Barrington-Browne clapped her hands. A maid appeared, followed
by another. The guests turned and began to make their way towards the dining room. Dinner was about to start.

‘A
printer
?’ Minty’s voice carried all the way down the long, elegantly dressed table. ‘What’s a printer?’

Julia was on her third – or possibly fourth or even fifth – glass of excellent red wine and the question neither surprised
nor irritated her. She could feel Dom’s eyes on her as she lowered her glass. ‘A printing press. Newspapers. He worked for
the
Newcastle Herald
.’

‘Oh.’ Minty seemed stumped by the answer.

‘He was in the union.’ Julia had no idea why she threw that little detail in as well.

‘A unionist?’ Peregrine couldn’t help himself. He was staring at Julia as though she’d just mentioned that her father had
been in jail. For murder.

‘Mmm. All his life.’ For once, Julia was enjoying herself. She couldn’t have said why, but the uneasy looks the others were
giving each other around the table amused her. Christ, they’d led such sheltered lives. ‘Bit of a firebrand, actually.’

‘I’ll say.’ Aaron’s muttered remark reached her ears alone. She turned her head slowly to look at him.

‘Something wrong?’

He frowned, as though not quite sure how to respond. Dom, fearing that a situation was about to develop that might even end
in the promised slap, suddenly launched into a diversionary anecdote about something that had clearly happened a decade earlier
at school. Julia’s attention drifted. She took another sip. She’d ceased to care what they thought about her. In for a penny,
in for a pound, as her father would have said. She smiled to herself. She’d never thought the day would come when she’d be
able to think about him, or her mother, for that matter, with a smile on her face. It had been nearly ten years since they’d
gone, and although time had certainly dulled the sharpness of the pain, it hadn’t gone away. Now, all of a sudden and when
she’d least expected it, a smile had crept in. The day she’d been waiting for had suddenly arrived. ‘Excuse me,’ she said
quickly, putting down her glass and standing up.

Dom looked up at her, frowning. ‘You all right?’ he asked, concern tingeing his voice.

‘Yes, I’m fine. Just need a bit of fresh air, that’s all. No, don’t get up. I’ll just step outside for a minute.’ She pushed
back her chair and walked quickly to the end of the room. The French doors led out on to a long, wide balcony. She pushed
them open and stepped into the inky darkness. She wrapped her arms around herself and took a deep breath. The weekend had
turned out to be far less of an ordeal than she’d feared. She’d experienced something else alongside the good food and wine
and the wonderfully comfortable bed. She struggled to put it into words – graciousness? The gulf that separated her from Dom
and his background was neither as wide nor as intractable as she’d thought. There was a grace in the way they handled and
displayed their wealth that had disarmed her. Perhaps – she hesitated as the thought came to her – perhaps the constant out-of-placeness
that characterised her every waking moment at Balliol was her problem, not theirs? Perhaps she wasn’t quite as
out of her depth as she feared? Dom had teased her often enough about it –
you don’t carry a chip on your shoulder, Burrows, it’s a bloody great boulder. You ought to try putting it down every once
in a while. You’ll wind up with a slipped disc
. She couldn’t help herself; she giggled out loud.