“Hey, Emily! Can you believe it? Heathley is on the front page!”
Emily looked up from locking her car the next morning and saw Gabriel walking towards her waving a county-wide paper.
“This is just about the historical find in the house, but I know that the bigger papers and horticultural publications have been notified about the Erin Banks plans. They’ll have to be returned to their proper owners at some point, of course, but for now, it’s going to put Heathley back on the map! People are going to visit here again,” he said, his voice filled with relief.
Emily summoned a smile to her face, glancing past Gabriel at the red Mini that was already in the car park.
He’d come to work after all!
Her smile got a little more genuine. “That is amazing! I really couldn’t have hoped for anything better for the park and gardens. I hope everything works out brilliantly,” she said, making eye contact with Gabriel and trying to fill her words with enthusiasm - even when her head was full of doubts.
“You should keep this. It mentions you and Damien quite a lot,” Gabriel said, passing her the paper and then tilting his head at her. “I hope I’ll see you later?”
Emily shot him a smile and a vague nod. She was about to let him walk away when she remembered the strange notes she’d been receiving. “Hey… Gabriel, I keep getting these odd letters. The first one said: ‘You will pay’ and the second said: ‘You’re dead’. I know this is not your fault, but I was wondering if perhaps someone here may have seen us together and acted out of jealousy?” Emily asked, feeling horribly awkward about it all.
Gabriel’s forehead lined with concern. “I don’t think anyone at Heathley would be so nasty. You should definitely report that to someone.”
She half nodded, wondering if he was a little too used to seeing the best side that the Heathley women put on when they were around him. She wished him goodbye again and let her eyes scan the newspaper, unwilling to fall back into thinking about the Damien and Gabriel situation. She was tired by it all. The note writer could take a hike, too!
Emily was still reading when she walked up to reception.
The sight of the queue made her stop dead.
Violet Renwick was walking up the line, handing out leaflets about Heathley’s regeneration project with the biggest smile Emily had ever seen lighting up her face. The manager nodded at Emily and then turned back to the old couple she was chatting to about the gardens. Emily found she was smiling a little more when she walked past reception. This job may have cost her a lot emotionally speaking, but at least it had paid off for the gardens. Heathley had a second chance.
She just wasn’t sure if she would be as fortunate.
Emily thought about going up to the house but knew it would be just as packed up there. The documents had all been sent off at the end of the previous day and there were plans to open up the secret basement area with a few copies of the less important documents in situ. Her work here was done. She’d only come back to give Violet her final report and say a few goodbyes. Then she’d be gone.
Seeing as Violet was clearly busy, she decided to walk through the gardens and see what people were making of it all.
The quietness of the surroundings didn’t surprise her one bit. Despite the gardeners’ work, the place was clearly a shell of what it had once been. The visitors were stunned into a respectful quiet as many of them saw what had happened to Heathley for the first time.
Emily walked along the greener stretch by the lower lake and glanced down at a moss-covered bench. The great fire of Heathley had not reached this part of the gardens. She was about to sit down on the bench when a loud yowl made her spin around.
A red-haired woman was running towards her with a knife in her hand.
There was a flash of grey as Mr Bumble disappeared back into the bushes, but Emily didn’t notice. She was too busy running at full tilt in the opposite direction.
If she’d been in a movie, she’d probably have executed some neat karate-style chop and expertly disarmed the crazy woman. But this wasn’t a film, and she wanted to live.
“Spade!” she muttered and dodged to the left, narrowly missing the downward stab the woman aimed at her. Emily scooped up the gardening tool that had been left balanced against a wheelbarrow and felt a little bit better about the situation.
This time, she was on the right end of the spade.
“Who the heck are you?!” she shouted at the woman - who was keeping her distance, circling Emily. Her attacker just hissed and jabbed at her. Emily parried with the spade, drawing it back quickly, so that the other woman couldn’t grab the blade.
“Hey! HEY!”
They both looked around as Damien jogged up. It was only when he got a few metres away that he spotted the knife and dodged around Emily’s side. She couldn’t help but wonder what he’d thought had been going on before he’d noticed the blade. After a brief moment of confusion, Damien reached into the wheelbarrow and came out with a trowel.
There was a tense moment where everyone stood there with sharp objects pointed at each other.
“Who are you?” Emily repeated, keeping the spade steady and ready for action.
The woman looked nonplussed for a moment. Emily could have sworn that she looked annoyed that Emily had no clue who she was.
“I’m Josie.” There was a lengthy pause. “Christian’s wife,” she clarified.
Emily’s eyes unclouded. “Oh,” was all she could think to say. The notes made a lot more sense now.
“I’m here for the money you stole from me and my ex-husband,” she said.
Emily raised an eyebrow at the ‘ex’ part of that sentence. Somehow, that didn’t surprise her.
“I read online that you were awarded twenty-five grand as a thanks for finding the treasure at that old place - Larch something, or whatever. My husband found that treasure. That money should be his,” she stated with a confidence that Emily found enviable.
She almost relaxed her grip on the spade. It was all so ridiculous. This woman’s talent for racking up debt was the reason Christian, her ex-assistant, had been driven to try and steal the historical artefact in the first place.
“Half of that money would have been his if he hadn’t tried to steal the treasure we unearthed. I don’t understand why you think you’ve got a leg to stand on. I think you know that you’re wrong. That’s why you sent those threatening letters and are now waving a knife in my face.” Strangely, it felt good to be so angry. She finally had a chance to get rid of all the frustration that had been building up inside of her. Given half a chance, she’d probably swing the spade!
“All I want is to be paid what I am owed!” deluded Josie spat out.
It was then that Emily realised a curious crowd had gathered around their standoff. Things were about to get awkward.
“You aren’t owed anything. Can someone call the police?” Emily raised her voice and was pleased to see that a single person from the growing audience pulled out their mobile phone and walked away from the group. Hopefully, they’d be reporting the right person - although it could be hard to tell when everyone was holding a weapon.
The next twenty minutes were surprisingly boring.
Emily and Josie argued the toss over the money that Emily had been given as thanks for her part in recovering the treasure of Larch Hall. Damien occasionally pitched in on Emily’s side, but it was pretty clear that logic wasn’t getting through.
“Armed police! Lay down your weapons!”
Emily smiled in relief before realising that they were shouting at her, too. She hurriedly dropped the spade and the police darted forward, making her realise the movement had been a bit sudden.
“Whoa! Whoa! We’re not the bad guys!” Damien said, stepping neatly in front of her. The men in black looked sceptical, so Damien helpfully pointed a finger in the direction of Josie - who was sprinting away through the bushes. Fortunately, the police then realised that only the guilty tend to run and ran after her.
“Do you think they’ll get her?” Damien asked as they both appreciated the impressive speed Josie was somehow managing to maintain whilst wearing stilettos.
“There’s a deer fence all the way around the gardens. Unless she goes out of the gardeners’ compound and then gets across the gravel car park, into a car, and away, they’ll get her,” Gabriel said, arriving next to Emily and patting her on the shoulder. He must have heard about the commotion. His smile was sympathetic, but she could tell by the glint in his eye that he really wanted to say: ‘I told you it wasn’t anyone here sending those notes!’
“After the criminal has been caught, it would probably be best if you both left Heathley. Thank you for doing such a good job,” a new voice said.
They all looked round to see Violet striding down the path, looking like she was marching to war. Emily couldn’t say she blamed her. She’d put a ton of effort into promoting Heathley, and here they were, ruining that good PR by bringing in armed police and waving garden tools around. The message was clear – they were dismissed.