The car park was almost empty. The daily rush of afternoon ramblers had yet to give way to the Tarr Steps’ evening strollers and dog walkers.
As Thea made her way towards the bridge, determined to complete the short walk she’d missed out on before, she lifted her face to the sunshine. The sky was so blue. She could almost hear her Nan saying, ‘More than enough to patch a pair of sailors’ trousers up there, my girl.’
Taking a swig from the bottle of cold water she’d grabbed from the car park kiosk, Thea stood at the brow of the bridge and exhaled slowly. There was no sign of the devil sunbathing, despite the heat of the day. Not even a passing black cat hinted towards the legend that, until she’d met Sam, she’d never heard of.
Waiting her turn, as a family of pushchairs and assorted toddlers gingerly crossed the stones, Thea was struck once again by the bridge’s sheer resilience.
Like Mill Grange. People come, people go, but the house is still there. And thanks to Mabel, Derek, Bill, Diane and their helpers, it will be standing in better condition from now on.
Taking her turn, Thea walked forward, pausing in the middle of the bridge. Watching the water flow sedately beneath her feet, she peered into the far distance. If she took her socks and shoes off, jumped into the water and walked, she’d be at Mill Grange in less than half an hour.
Mill Grange.
She’d given up a lot to help restore and run it. But would she have gone if John hadn’t been back on the scene making her life difficult? Probably not. She’d have relished the challenge, but never have been brave enough to apply for the job, even if she’d known Tina would end up sharing it with her.
I’d never have met Shaun again.
As another party of walkers appeared on the opposite side of the bridge, Thea hurried on, off the ancient stones, and along the tree lined walk bordering the run of the river. She felt no guilt about being there this time. The only promise she’d made herself before coming to Upwich was that she’d take time to explore Exmoor, and she hadn’t so much as glimpsed it beyond the manor lands or via the window of her car. Delaying telling everyone the outcome of the meeting wasn’t going to change anything, and she needed to be alone to think.
Exchanging greetings with fellow walkers as she passed, Thea breathed in the beauty of the place.
It had been worth coming.
John may have found her, but Mabel had kicked him into touch – and she’d made new friends in an amazing place. Friends she hoped to keep.
After twenty minutes of gentle meandering, Thea saw a wooden bridge in the distance, patiently waiting to take her to the opposite side of the water for the return walk to the car park. Not quite ready to go back, she sat on the first empty bench she came to, tilted her head to the sunshine and closed her eyes.
The house had been sold.
Malcolm had been kind enough not to beat about the bush, telling her the worst as soon as her backside had hit the office chair.
On the journey to Taunton, while bracing herself for the news that Mill Grange and its lands were to go up for sale, Thea had dreamt up a final straw idea of putting together a local consortium, so the villagers could buy the manor together. The idea, although possibly unworkable, was redundant before she’d even mooted it.
Unknown to anyone beyond the trustees, the decision to sell hadn’t been made that day, but several weeks ago. The meeting they’d had that day concerned the sale itself, and how to break the news to Thea and her team. The house had gone on the market at nine o’clock that morning. A private sale had been agreed, subject to surveys and contract, only three hours later.
Thea’s first reaction had been to be consumed by panic. John. John had to have bought the house and grounds.
Then common sense had kicked in. No one at the house had known about the stage of the sale. John was still in Upwich at eleven, being evicted by Mabel and her team. With mobile signals weak and Wi-Fi non-existent beyond strategically placed hubs, there was no way John could have found out about the sale. Unless he had an insider…
Had she really been so assertive with Malcolm? Looking back, it felt as if she’d been watching someone else responding to the news. She hadn’t shouted or growled, but said with a forceful certainty that would have made Mabel proud, how disappointed she was with the underhand manner in which this situation had been handled. That the lack of information from the Trust was questionable.
Then she’d asked what she needed to know, even if she’d already rationalised it as impossible within herself.
‘Has a Mr John Davies-Sommers bought Mill Grange?’
Malcolm had shaken his head. Thea felt it was the only time during the whole meeting he’d acted with honesty when he’d said, although he was not at liberty to disclose the name of the vendor, it was not anyone of that name. Nor, to the best of his knowledge, was there a Sommers connection.
Then she’d asked Malcolm what it was they weren’t being told.
He’d shifted uncomfortably in his chair, just as he had on her previous visit to his office. All he’d said was that an unexpected situation, which he was not at liberty to share with her, had arisen and that he was truly sorry for the inconvenience he’d caused her. He’d gone on to waffle about giving her impeccable references, but Thea had stopped listening.
The word ‘inconvenience’ had been ill-advised. Thea, who was ten times more assertive than she’d been prior to her arrival at the manor, had raised her hand slowly before stating precisely what she’d sacrificed to pursue a new career at Mill Grange. She’d politely underlined how much the long-term volunteers had given in terms of time and unpaid labour, how much work Shaun was missing, risking damaging his reputation just so he could be at the Open Day. She’d spoken about Richard doing several hundred pounds’ worth of furniture repair to the table free of charge, and how Sybil had provided free tea and cakes for weeks in the expectation of an upturn to village trade once the manor opened to the public.
Malcolm’s mouth had fallen open, but whether he’d been intending to speak or not, Thea didn’t know. She hadn’t finished. She’d gone on to inform him that she would be emailing him the list of local schools and groups who’d paid a deposit for a tour around the house once it was reopened, and that he’d have to sort out refunds and apologises. Oh, and he’d need to re-home six hens and a cockerel.
Although instinct had told Thea to run at this point, she’d ignored it and asked what the Trust expected from her from that moment on, and what their intentions for Tina were. She’d folded her arms and crossed her legs and sat there, staring at Malcolm, hoping like hell that her nerve didn’t give way.
With a promise to herself that she’d come back and walk the much longer circuit of the Steps before she left, Thea pulled herself away from the bench and headed to the car. Her friends would be worried. She couldn’t keep them waiting any longer.
Talking to herself, Thea strolled back to reality. ‘Should I take Shaun up on his offer of working on his travelling excavation team?’
Thea addressed a low hanging branch as she walked along, rustling it through her fingers. ‘People would talk, but at least we’d be together.’
A warm contentment, at odds with her anger at the loss of the manor, made Thea smile. Perhaps it would be alright? Perhaps the new owner was local and would open the house to the public as they’d hoped. She might have to hunt for a new job, but at least she could leave Upwich knowing that Mill Grange was in good hands, and the village would benefit from its renovations. Or perhaps it had been purchased by a multinational corporation, who intended to turn it into a conference centre for suited city people, who’d arrive to escape the stresses of the metropolis, only to moan when they realised they were almost entirely off the grid.
Less thrilled by this latter idea, Thea paused as she placed a palm against a wooden stile. ‘Unless…’
John’s accusatory words came back to her. He’d declared he was going to do what Shaun should have done. What if Shaun had done what John had suggested? Shaun had been the only other person who’d known about the meeting. Not only that, but he’d been there, with Malcolm, when the announcement of the meeting had been made. What if he’d learnt about the house already being tabled for sale and acted on that information?
‘If he did, why didn’t he tell me?’ Thea started to walk faster. No, he couldn’t have. He’d have told me, or at least asked my opinion.
With every step closer to her car the idea that Shaun might have stepped in, Sir Galahad style, again took a firmer hold.
‘We’ve only been together two minutes. Surely Shaun wouldn’t have saddled himself with such a lifetime of responsibility on a whim?’
Would he?