‘How did it get in?’
‘I asked you a question.’ Shaun replaced the cushions on the sofa and sat down, patting the space next to him.
Thea hesitated, very aware that she was only wearing an old coat and a pair of pyjamas, albeit a super thick, fleece-lined set of pyjamas, cut in a style which cut for comfort rather than flattering the figure.
‘Come on, I won’t bite.’
Reluctantly sitting, keeping a good foot of space between herself and the archaeologist, Thea noticed he was still fully dressed. ‘Hadn’t you gone to bed yet?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘You’re not in pyjamas.’
Shaun grinned. ‘I didn’t fancy confronting an art thief in the buff.’
‘In the… oh.’ Thea could feel her face reddening. ‘Weren’t you cold? I mean, it’s not exactly tropical in this house.’
Shaun laughed. ‘I was fine, thank you, but should you wish to pop by and warm me up, then please do.’
Knowing she’d been thinking about doing exactly that, Thea looked towards the bay window she’d so recently yanked open and pulled her coat tighter over her nightclothes. ‘I’m living here too.’
‘I worked that one out. How long for?’
‘Since I started working here. I didn’t intend to. It was going to be a one or two-night thing, before I found a room to rent, but…’
‘But everywhere around here costs a king’s ransom, or is so far away that you’d be driving constantly. And let’s face it, you can get so much more done being here 24/7. Yes?’
‘Yes.’ Thea sighed. ‘I was going to tell you yesterday, but somehow time ran out, and then it felt like I was lying to you… which I wasn’t, but at the same time I was. Then I thought, if the others knew we were both staying here, they’d put two and two together and make five. Then there was the danger that everyone would want to start paying rent to stay here, and I’d be running a guest house on top of everything else.’
‘And if John had got wind of the situation he’d either insist on moving in too, or go to the papers and tell them we are shacked up together.’
‘Exactly.’ Thea nodded. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t warn you I was here, but I’m damn glad you are. I’d never have coped with that bird on my own. I was only brave enough to get up because you were in the manor too.’
‘I’m sure a strong independent woman like you could have coped.’
Shaun didn’t sound as if he was teasing her, but she wasn’t quite sure. ‘Independent I might be, and strong to an extent – otherwise I’d never have shifted that window – but you can be as emancipated as anything, and still be shit scared of an intruder in the middle of the night!’
This time he did laugh. ‘Damn right. My heart was thudding, I can tell you.’
‘Was it?’
‘Of course it was. I was under the impression I was alone in the house with an axe murderer or something.’
Thea looked across to the ruin of the fallen vase. ‘That’s a problem I could do without.’
Shaun coughed uneasily. ‘I’m afraid that’s not the half of it.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘The nightjar didn’t get in here, it got in down there. He pointed to the partially opened double doors that divided the drawing and living rooms. ‘The far window to the right has slipped open in there. I’ve only had the chance for a brief glance, but I’m guessing the rope pulley on one side has snapped, leaving the top of the window open a fraction.’
‘Oh God.’ Thea stared towards the darkened space on the other side of the fallen china.
‘We’ll need to check for stray bats in the morning.’
‘That’s not very likely is it?’
‘They like attics, why not a warm house with high ceilings?’
Thea groaned. ‘I heard a metallic-like crash. Was that the window falling in its setting?’
‘No. At least, I don’t think so.’
‘Then what on earth was it?’
‘I think you should come and see.’ Shaun got to his feet and held out a hand.
Thea stayed where she was. ‘I have a feeling you’re going to show me something even worse than the fallen vase. Is it childish to want to stay here and hope it all goes away?’
‘Yes.’ Shaun reached forward and pulled Thea to her feet. ‘But it’s very human and I don’t blame you one bit for putting off the evil hour. But it’s two o’clock in the morning and we need to get some sleep at some point, plus you have to “arrive” for work in time to be told of what’s happened in the night as if you’ve never been here.’
Thea didn’t see the damage at first. She was too concerned with locating the offending open window and seeing where the bird had come in. She was half expecting to see a squadron of airborne insects and birds soaring in through the gap.
It took a gentle tug on her arm for Thea to register that, not only was she still holding Shaun’s hand, but that there was a metre-long scratch across the far end of the previously unblemished dining room table.
‘But how…?’ Thea’s fingers started to tingle and she tried to pull out of Shaun’s grip, but he held her firm.
‘You can shout at me for being sexist later if you feel the need, but right now you need to hold onto something so you don’t fall over. It might as well be my hand.’
Thea didn’t respond. He was right anyway. It didn’t matter that holding his hand was a pleasant experience. It could have been John’s hand and it would still have been unwise to let go at that particular moment. Her knees were close to buckling, but she’d be damned if she’d let them.
Eventually she gathered her powers of speech. ‘This table came all the way from Lancaster in 1880.’
Shaun groaned. ‘You’re not telling me this is an original Gillows, are you?’
‘It is.’
‘I was hoping it was just a really good replica.’
‘Nope. An original Victorian mahogany table. Seats twenty-four people when fully extended. And, until tonight, it had one tiny blemish on the far left leg where, presumably, something once got dropped on it, chipping the outside edge. A French polisher had made the mark all but invisible. I only know it’s there because there is a note of the work in the old accounts.’
‘Oh.’
‘I had thought…’ Thea heard her voice become unnaturally light as she kept talking. If she stopped, there was a danger that panic or hysteria would take hold. ‘I had thought of seeing if people could work out which leg was damaged, and giving a prize to children on school trips if they could guess what might have caused it.’
Shaun ran a finger along the fresh scratch. ‘It’s a surface scratch. A French polisher could fix this.’
‘For free? Within the time we have?’ Thea grimaced. ‘How did a bird do this, for God’s sake? Come to think of it, I don’t even know what a nightjar is. Until tonight I’d never heard of one.’
‘I suspect it was caused by a talon. They’re only small birds, but have claws not unlike a kestrel’s.’ Letting go of Thea, Shaun knelt to examine the underside of the table. ‘Could this leaf of the table be dropped?’
‘I don’t know.’ Her free hand felt cold, so she buried it into a pocket as she stared at the semi dropped window.
‘Damn, no, it’s static.’ Shaun examined the scratch more closely. ‘Do any of the volunteers do polishing?’
‘Not to my knowledge.’ As Thea studied the fallen window, a blast of cold night air brought her back to her senses. ‘I’m going to fetch some black bags from the kitchen and my staple gun.’
‘Why?’
‘Because I can’t face carpentry tonight. Let’s cover over the gap to stop anything else getting in and worry about it tomorrow.’
Shaun smiled. ‘You fetch them. I’ll get the stepladder from the laundry room.’
The act of doing something helped calm Thea. With only a minor sense of guilt, as she drove staples into the Victorian wallpaper, reasoning with herself that things were not so bad, that a few microscopic holes in the wall weren’t going to make things worse, she soon had the gap covered with three layers of black plastic bags.
‘You were right,’ she called down to Shaun as he held the stepladder steady. ‘The pulley is almost completely frayed. Looks like it could have snapped at any time.’
‘Very inconsiderate of it to choose the middle of the night.’
Thea slammed one final staple into the bags to hold them taut. ‘Does that seem firm enough to you?’
‘Come down and I’ll look.’
‘Can’t you tell from there, save me going up and down?’
Shaun growled, ‘For God’s sake, Thea, it’s the middle of the night, you are wearing nothing but pyjamas and, as I may have mentioned, I fancy you something rotten, so don’t you dare ask me to look up at you from this angle or I may forget that I’m a gentleman!’
Thea scuttled down the ladder, half wishing she’d stayed where she was and told him to look anyway. ‘So, I’m down, what do you think?’
‘I think I should have got us a bottle of whiskey for emergencies.’ Shaun nodded at her handiwork with the staple gun and turned back to the table. ‘This is going to take a bit of thinking about.’
Thea wanted to close her eyes. Suddenly she felt beyond tired, but at the same time she knew there was no chance of sleep until she’d cleared up the debris from the vase. ‘I’ll get the dustpan and brush.’ She pointed at the shattered china.
‘Tell you what, I’ll get that swept up and sorted, and you put the kettle on. I left some decaf coffee in the kitchen. I could do with a hot drink.’
Too tired to argue, Thea headed to the kitchen, via the scullery, where she picked up the file containing information on all the items of value in the house. She knew the vase was in there, she just hoped that being knocked over by a bird was the sort of accident it was insured for.
Thea knew that the tears she’d been determined not to cry since she’d first seen the fallen vase were causing red rings to circle her heavy eyes.
Oh well, at least Shaun will have no trouble keeping his hands off me looking like this.
The coffee was made, poured and cooling fast before Shaun joined Thea.
‘What’s that?’
‘The artefact catalogue.’ She picked it up and flashed the relevant page at Shaun. ‘The vase is – was – a nineteenth-century Imari porcelain vase, of baluster form with flared neck, painted panels of figures and animals in landscape, on a brocade ground.’
‘Do I dare ask how much it was worth?’
‘Just over three thousand.’
‘Damn.’
‘Quite.’
‘Insured?’
‘Yes. Everything listed in this catalogue is covered, but I can’t say I’m looking forward to telling Malcolm that we need to make a claim.’ Thea cuddled her mug, as she read the additional notes about the piece. ‘It was a gift from Lord to Lady Upwich. Apparently she fell in love with the vibrant blues and reds.’ Thea sniffed as she lay down the book, ‘He must have loved her very much. There’s so much in this house that was brought here out of love and now it’s all falling apart and however hard I try, I don’t seem to be able to stop it disintegrating.’
Shaun’s arm was around Thea’s shoulders and she was buried into his side, sobbing her heart out, before she’d noticed what she was doing. ‘Oh God, I’m so sorry. This is pathetic.’
‘It is nothing of the sort. You came here to do a job under stressful circumstances. Not only have those circumstances followed you, but everything that can go wrong seems to have done just that.’
Shaun stroked his fingers over Thea’s hair, sending the same sensations of need shooting through her as when he’d de-cobwebbed her in the mill. She wanted to protest that she was ashamed of herself. That she should have been more professional, more businesslike, stronger, but no words would come out. She felt as if she was in delayed shock.
‘What you need to focus on is how much you’ve achieved. The manor is in a much stronger position than when you arrived. Hard decisions needed making, and you’ve made them. More such decisions are required and you’ll make the ones which will work best for the future of this place.’ He leant forward and kissed the top of her head.
Frustratingly chaste, the kiss still warmed Thea enough for her to wipe the tears from her eyes. Sitting up, she took a sip of coffee. ‘Forgive me, I’m overtired. By tomorrow I’ll have pulled myself together.’
‘I don’t doubt it.’ Shaun was regarding her with something very close to pride. ‘But for now, how about you cuddle back and rest.’
Not wanting to break the spell, Thea said nothing as she snuggled against his shoulder, inhaling the scent of maleness, Aran wool and the light fragrance of fabric conditioner.
‘Because nightjars are nocturnal, they’re usually only spotted at dawn or dusk when they’re hunting for food. Even then, you have to concentrate to spot them as they are well camouflaged. They’re a sort of grey-brown, mottled, streaked colour with barred plumage as well. In the past they were considered unlucky or even supernatural.’
‘Really? Why?’
‘They fly in silence.’
‘Unless they’re trapped under tables.’
‘Naturally.’ Shaun’s fingers teased another knot from the lower tresses of her hair. ‘They had a mythical ability to steal milk from goats, but I don’t know why.’
‘They live on the moors?’
‘Moors, heath-land, open woodland. Nowhere too enclosed, but with plenty of ground cover. I’ve never heard of one coming so close to a house.’
‘A lost nightjar.’
‘Possibly.’
‘I hope it’s alright.’
Shaun’s fingers stopped moving and he turned to look at her. ‘That’s it. Right there.’
‘What is where?’
‘The reason why I want to take you out for dinner tomorrow night, or should I say tonight.’
Thea rubbed her tired eyes. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘A bird gets in and causes thousands of pounds worth of damage, and you’re worried about the bird as much as the damage.’
‘It didn’t mean to come in. I bet it was terrified.’
Shaun smiled. ‘So, will you come out with me tonight?’
‘I’d like that. But not locally.’
‘Deal.’ Shaun drained the remains of his coffee. ‘Come on, we’re going to bed.’
‘Are we?’
‘We are.’