Chapter Ten

Present Day

Cassie’s stomach did that little lurchy thing it usually did whenever she was excited and the adrenalin fired up. She could just imagine Elodie laughing and saying something about Fate taking a hand in it – but she didn’t much care about Fate. She cared about getting this place up and running for August. She was enthused all over again.

‘So that’s one thing I can tick off my list.’ Cassie shifted the bag of bunting to a more comfortable angle and headed over to the squash courts, Margaret following behind and catching the tails of fabric that refused to stay put in the bag. ‘I’ll pop these in here for now.’

Aidan was peering at the pool, and had wandered over to the diving board, as if he was assessing it.

‘I think that man will do you a good deal.’ Cassie was sure she heard a note of amusement in Margaret’s voice.

‘Meaning what exactly?’ She wrestled with the squash court door for the second time that day.

‘Just what I say. It won’t be a cheap job, not with everything you threw at him over there, but he’ll do it the best he can for you.’

‘He’s got a vested interest in the place.’ Cassie thrust her hip against the door so it swung open. The smell enveloped her again and they walked inside, their footsteps echoing in the building. ‘His great-great-uncle or whatever he was, so many generations ago, used to visit us. Aidan’s got a picture in that book. It was Robert Edwards.’

‘The war poet?’ Margaret somehow managed to sound both in awe and star struck at the same time. ‘I’ve read his work. I knew he was local, but that’s a wonderful connection to make. Fancy that.’

‘He wasn’t a very good artist. But I recognised the Spa.’

‘Well he can’t have been that bad an artist!’ Margaret’s voice was quite snippy. ‘Not if you can recognise the place.’

Cassie didn’t bother trying to explain how out of proportion the tennis players were, or how they couldn’t see what the girl by the pool looked like. The rest of the picture was okay. At least it transposed nicely onto the Hall scenery.

‘Yes, I suppose. We’re getting quite a lot of mementoes, aren’t we?’ She looked around, imagining the displays again. Her heart leapt at the idea there was maybe an end in sight and the weekend could be a success.

‘Lots of them,’ agreed Margaret. ‘Will the young man let us keep the book, do you think?’

‘I hope so. I’d be careful with it. I’d make sure it was in a case and everything. People have been so kind, haven’t they? We can do this!’ Cassie danced a little jig on the floor.

‘It’s going to be perfect. You’ll be getting Elodie’s job properly next.’

‘No thank you!’ Cassie stopped prancing around. ‘She can keep it. As soon as she’s had the babies and she’s back, it’s all hers. This is a one off. Honestly, I don’t know how she hasn’t caved in with stress before now.’

‘I don’t think she’s as fragile as she looks.’ Margaret smiled. ‘She’s had a rough ride since her divorce, and she’s suffered for it with her health and all, but underneath it I suspect she’s a bit of a tough cookie. She’d have to be, working in London under that sort of pressure.’

‘I don’t envy her. Definitely not!’

‘I don’t know. I think seeing all those beautiful gowns would be worth it, don’t you? She had special access to the V&A collections you know.’ Margaret sighed. She had always fancied herself in a crinoline, Cassie knew.

‘Hmm. You know what she told me a few weeks ago the very first time I mentioned costumes for this weekend? She told me a 1923 advert for maternity wear in Good Housekeeping was aimed at women who wanted to be “entirely free from embarrassment of a noticeable appearance during a trying period.” Imagine that!’

‘How does she know all of this?’ asked Margaret in wonderment.

‘I don’t know, but I suspect her qualifications are a lot more interesting than mine,’ Cassie said, a little ruefully.

‘Can we really dress up then? We usually do.’

‘I don’t know why you’re even asking me.’ Cassie laughed. ‘You’re the experts – you and Delilah. You’ve seen all this before – and seen it done properly. I’m just muddling along.’

‘You’re muddling along very well.’ Margaret cast a look at the door, where the sunlight came in, stark against the gloom of the squash courts. ‘And I think he is going to be happy to help you.’

‘Margaret, stop it! I’m not interested. He’s walked in off the street and that’s it. It’s fortunate, that’s all.’ She could feel her cheeks colouring though, even as she spoke the words. Come on, he was an extraordinarily good-looking biker, after all. He had a bit of the Byron and Shelley thing going on as well – some sort of irresistible pull and a sort of mussed-up, careless look about him that suited him deliciously. Something almost other-worldly.

‘It’s a sign.’ Margaret smiled beatifically. ‘It’s about time as well. You’re ready for a nice man. Trust me.’

Cassie decided to ignore her. She probably was ready for a nice man – more than ready. But why should she think a random stranger that had crossed her path – even one that ticked all the boxes of her imaginary list – would feel the same? This wasn’t a book or a fairy tale. This was real life and that sort of stuff just didn’t happen.

‘Oh, I’d best head off.’ Margaret checked her watch. ‘I’m due in the gift shop.’

‘Okay. Thanks again for the bunting.’ Cassie smiled with genuine warmth.

‘Our pleasure. See you later.’ And with that, Margaret hurried away, back towards the more populated areas of the estate.

Cassie put the bunting in a corner and walked into the centre of the building. She stared around it one more time, glad that she’d finally managed to achieve something that seemed a lot more important, suddenly, than cream teas and ice-cream. She had bunting. And someone to help with the structural nightmares.

A movement caught her attention on the balcony and she looked up quickly, just in time to see the hazy figure of a girl running along it. Her red hair was long and wavy, bouncing around her shoulders as she threw herself at another hazy figure; taller than her and, Cassie thought, a man. She blinked and the image had disappeared.

A little smile curled up the corner of her lips. Had that been Stella? It was more than likely. The Hall was playing its recordings again, just so she didn’t forget what was important. She had a feeling that the man was Robert, but she knew there was no way she could go back outside and tell Aidan that one.

Aidan bent down and broke a piece of rusted iron from the ladder which was attached to the side of the pool. The place was in desperate need of some work. Even if they didn’t get the pool open for August, it needed to be passed through Health and Safety at the very least. The words ‘Risk Assessment’ hung unpleasantly in the air and he pulled a face. He ought to tell her.

He looked up and glimpsed a fleeting figure disappear around the corner holding a racquet. For a moment he thought it was Cassie, but then saw Cassie coming out of the building, minus her bag of bunting.

He hurried over to her and caught her just before she locked up. ‘I’ve had a look at that ladder, and I’ll definitely have to come back with some proper equipment.’

‘Of course.’ Cassie smiled. ‘But while we’re here, d’you just want to pop your head inside this ramshackle old place to see if you really think it’s salvageable, before you waste any time on it?’

‘I’m sure it’s fine. I—’ He stopped and peered inside. ‘Oh. I thought they were still in use. I was sure I saw someone come out just before with a racquet. And when I was prowling around the gates in February I saw a couple heading that way. I must have been imagining it.’ He stared around at the clutter and the disrepair and scratched his head. ‘Well. Yes. I can do it, but we’ll have to do a separate survey in here.’ He turned to her, feeling a little confused. ‘Is that okay?’

‘That’s fine.’ A smile tugged at the corner of her lips. ‘There’s just me here and as you can see, it’s not really a court we can use at the minute. It might have been Margaret you saw? She’s been helping us move bits and bobs around.’

‘Maybe. Oh, well.’ He smiled suddenly. ‘Your court issues are not insurmountable.’

‘Are they not? That’s good.’ Her shoulders almost sagged with relief. He saw her cast her eyes up to the balcony quickly. ‘Yes – nobody can use this place properly at the moment at all. Just the ghosts, I think. They’re quite weightless, so they’re very safe on that rickety old balcony.’

‘Ghosts. I see.’ He grinned, humouring her. ‘Maybe Robert’s here. That would be good.’

‘Maybe Robert and my wayward relative Stella are both here. I’m sure she’s in his picture after all. Who’s to say?’

He laughed. ‘It’s a possibility. Okay. I’m really sorry, but much as I’d love to stay and have a proper look, I have to get back to the office. I’ll be in touch, all right?’

‘Definitely.’ Her smile lit up the dim old building, and he couldn’t help but smile back.

Cassie woke up the next day feeling a lot more positive. It finally seemed possible that she could get this thing off the ground. With a bounce in her step she went over to the Hall. She couldn’t wait to tell Elodie and Alex that she’d found someone to help her. And it was rather splendid that the person she had found just happened to be Aidan Edwards.

So it was with a sense of crashing disappointment that she flung open the door to the family wing at the side of the Hall and saw two very gloomy faces raised to greet her. Well, to be more precise, one face was more stormy than gloomy, and that was Alex’s. Elodie just looked pale and stunned, but there was a definite sense of gloom over the pair of them as they stood at opposite ends of the kitchen.

Cassie’s stomach knotted and she stared at them. Her first thought was for the twins; her second was that Alex had found yet another pile of unresolved debt from their father.

‘Oh, God, is everything all right?’ She rushed over, took Elodie’s hand in hers and looked at her anxiously.

Elodie smiled weakly. ‘Not really. You should probably ask Alex.’

Cassie looked at her brother. ‘Alex?’ Her stomach somersaulted.

Alex glared at her, his eyes glinting like granite. It was a face she recognised, but she knew that the glare wasn’t really directed at her. It was just his way. Elodie had once confessed, giggling, she found Alex’s stormy face one of his sexiest; it was something about how his eyes darkened, she’d said. But that thought seemed to have evaporated here today.

‘I’ve had a letter,’ he said, without preamble. ‘You might want to read it.’

He shoved a crumpled piece of paper at her. In fact, when Cassie straightened it with shaking hands, she saw it had been ripped neatly into four pieces. Someone – probably Elodie, judging by the roll of Sellotape next to her – had stuck them together again.

‘What is it?’ Cassie scanned the letter, then, her face blanching, read it again. She looked up at Alex. ‘Our mother? It’s from her?’

Alex nodded briefly. Cassie tore her eyes away from her brother – she truly thought he’d implode any minute, he seemed so wound up. She forced herself to read the note again:

To my dearest Alexander and Cassandra,

Forgive me for writing to you. Forgive me for waiting so long – I only learned about your father’s death recently, and didn’t dare get in touch with you before that. I’m so sorry I left you behind, when I left your father. It was never my intention for us to be parted for so long, and I have missed you every day of my life since.

I wanted you so badly. I tried to fight for custody through the courts, but at the time I had no money and he had everything. He had power and influence and friends in so many high places, although even I could see, by the time I left him, that the money was going to run out. He was full of wild schemes and nothing he did ever made sense to me. I stood it as long as I could, then I had to leave before it drove me mad. I was painted as a scarlet woman and God knows what he told you about me. I can promise you, I never stopped loving you. Yes, I admit I had a lover, eventually, and he has remained by my side all this time. He loves me and I know you would love him if you met him.

I am so sorry I left you both – and Cassandra, you were so young! Far too young for me to walk out of your life. But I had what I now understand as post-natal depression, and I thought my only avenue was to escape from Hartsford. I could see the money slipping through your father’s hands and worried so much about your welfare. I left, with the intention of having you both with me, but it never happened and it is the biggest regret of my life.

I will be travelling to England this summer, and would be so grateful if you could find it in your hearts to meet me. I know we can never have the relationship I would have wished, but if I could only meet you both, even once, then I would be the happiest woman on earth.

Your ever-loving and ever-hopeful mother,

Anne

‘Good grief.’ Cassie stared at the letter, then looked up at Alex. ‘What shall we do?’

‘Do you believe her?’ His voice was as dark as his expression – cold and deadly. ‘Do you seriously bloody believe her?’

Cassie shrank back a little. She hadn’t seen Alex like this for years – since, in fact, Elodie had come back. This was dangerous, dangerous territory.

‘Alex—’ Elodie’s voice was quiet, and she reached out for his hand, but he shook her off and prowled over to the far corner of the room, where he stood leaning against the wall, his arms and legs crossed. With his face all in shadow and his body all hunched up, he looked quite terrifying.

‘She left us to live with another man, and now there’s conveniently nobody left who can give us our father’s side.’ Alex’s voice was too controlled, too cold.

‘Do you think she means it? Do you think she did want us?’ Cassie was clutching at straws. Somewhere deep inside, that abandoned little girl had yearned for her mother. Part of Cassie wanted to believe her mother had yearned for her just as much. She flicked a glance at the address on the top of the letter. France. Like her father had told her.

‘Do I hell.’ Alex launched himself out of the corner and snatched the letter out of Cassie’s hand. Like a tornado, he whirled past her and slammed the door on his way out. It swung back on itself and he was framed, loping along the path away from the Hall. He got a few strides in, then suddenly started to run.

Cassie watched as he disappeared across the estate, her heart pounding. ‘I haven’t seen him so angry for ages,’ she almost whispered.

‘He’ll come out of it.’ Elodie’s gaze also followed his trajectory. ‘It’s a shock. That’s all. He’ll have some time with Hughie and he’ll be okay.’

‘That is what he was like – all the time. All the time, before you came back.’ Cassie pointed to the open door.

‘Then it’s a good job I’m not going anywhere.’ Elodie sat down heavily and leaned her elbows on the table, resting her chin in her hands. ‘Do you believe her?’

Despite it not being her home any more, Cassie automatically reached for the kettle and switched it on. She dragged two mugs towards her and busied herself making tea. ‘I don’t know. I want to believe her. I just think I don’t want to feel abandoned. You need some more teabags. Here, I’ll jot it down for you. Baby brain and all that.’ She scribbled a note down on a shopping list pad on the counter and tore it off, putting it down by the kettle. She jotted something else down and slid another piece of paper into her pocket.

‘Post-natal depression.’ Elodie’s voice was carefully even. ‘Worrying.’

Cassie walked over to the table and put a mug in front of her friend. She pulled a chair up. ‘It doesn’t happen to everyone,’ she said, half-smiling. ‘But it’s good to be aware of it, I think.’

Elodie nodded and sighed. She sat back and pulled her mug towards her. She wrapped her hands around it and fixed Cassie with her blue gaze. ‘That letter’ll be destroyed by now. You do realise that, don’t you?’

Cassie grimaced. ‘Yes. With her address on and everything.’ She stared studiously into her mug of tea and watched the liquid swirling gently. ‘Unless you kept the envelope?’ She looked up hopefully at Elodie. ‘She might have put it on there as well?’

‘It’s in his pocket.’

‘Oh.’ She looked down at the tea again. There was no need to tell Elodie she had tried to memorise the address before Alex snatched it away, and written it down for herself at the same time as the teabag note. It was safely in her very own pocket until she decided what to do with it. ‘I only came to tell you I’ve got some help for the weekend. I wasn’t expecting a scene.’

‘Oh, well that’s good news, anyway!’ Elodie smiled, then her face dropped again. ‘I’m sorry I haven’t been much use to you.’

‘You’ve had other things to think about.’ Cassie grinned. ‘But I’ve got a civil engineer on board now. He’s going to get me a quote.’

‘A quote? For what?’

‘The Spa area. It needs a bit more work than I anticipated.’

Elodie’s eyes widened. ‘Oh, does it now?’

In contrast, Cassie’s eyes narrowed. ‘Maybe just a little.’

‘Is he a trustworthy civil engineer though?’

Cassie thought of his dark eyes and his dark hair and his smile. She didn’t know if he was trustworthy, exactly, but she would be willing to bet that in certain situations she wouldn’t be able to trust herself with him …

‘He’s coming back.’ She skirted the issue expertly. ‘I’ll see what he suggests.’

‘It’s a good idea to get a couple of quotes, you know.’ Elodie sounded amused. ‘But seeing as how you’ve gone the colour of a tomato, I don’t expect you’ll be looking much further, will you?’

Cassie tried hard to look insulted. But then she thought of Aidan’s smile again, and couldn’t help but smile herself. ‘No. I probably won’t look much further if I can help it.’

‘Then I hope he gives you a jolly good price.’

‘Me too.’

Elodie smiled, a little wanly. ‘I just hope Alex is okay. I hate seeing him like that.’

Cassie shuddered, remembering the years of anger and frustration Alex had endured when he inherited the Hall. The last thing he needed when his life was coming together so well now, was his mother turning up. They’d all written her off twenty-odd years ago.

‘Well. She might not come. For Alex, that might be the best thing.’ Cassie omitted to mention herself in that comment. She suddenly longed to meet her mother and give her the benefit of the doubt.