HUGO’S HOUSE. THE place where the dreams Alice had hardly dared admit to herself had popped, empty as a bubble.
But they needed each other to finalise the butterfly house project. And right now they needed to agree on a plan to move forward with Rosemary’s house.
She took the Tube over to Battersea and knocked on his door.
There were dark shadows under his eyes when he opened the door, and she felt guilty; had she done this to him, shoved him back into the shadows where he’d been for the last three years? Then again, she’d been selfish in dragging him into the light when he wasn’t really ready.
This was such a mess.
He looked as miserable as she felt. She wanted to put her arms round him and tell him everything was going to be all right; but right now she didn’t know if everything would be all right.
‘Thanks for coming,’ he said.
‘You’re welcome.’ And how horrible it was, being reduced to formality with him. Though this was her own doing. She’d been the one to walk away.
‘Coffee?’
It would be rude to refuse; plus it might help distract her from his nearness. Give her something to do with her hands. ‘Thank you.’
Once she was sitting at the table with a mug of coffee, he showed her the file James had given him. ‘It’s quite bad. The house needs underpinning. Although the house insurance will cover repairing the damage, it won’t cover preventing future subsidence.’
She looked at James’s figures and winced. ‘We don’t have that sort of money.’
‘Which is where Pav’s sponsor comes in. Apparently it’s a firm of stockbrokers who want to showcase their green credentials, and they think sponsoring us will help them do that. They get their name on our website and a “sponsored by” board in our reception area, and Pav’s suggested holding a special event once a quarter for their clients. I think we should accept.’
‘OK. So who are they?’
He opened the file Pav had sent over.
Alice looked at it, and her vision blurred.
Rutherford and Associates, Stockbrokers Managing partner: Barney Rutherford
No.
It couldn’t be.
She took a deep breath to calm herself. When she thought about it rationally, Barney wasn’t an uncommon first name and Rutherford wasn’t an uncommon surname.
All the same…
‘Can I just check something?’ she asked, picking up her phone.
‘Sure.’
She quickly flicked into the firm’s website, and clicked on the ‘about us’ section.
And there he was. Barney Rutherford. Expensive suit, handmade shirt, silk tie. Probably the same kind of shoes that Hugo wore. A little fatter, a little less hair, but still recognisable as the man who’d hurt her so much all those years ago.
‘No,’ she said.
Hugo frowned. ‘Sorry?’
‘No. We’re not taking that man’s money. We’ll have to find another way.’
His frown deepened. ‘I don’t understand. Do you know him or something?’
‘Yes, and he has no moral compass whatsoever. He’s not having anything to do with the butterfly house.’
‘He’s offering us enough to fix the house. Otherwise we might be held up for months and months.’
‘I don’t care.’ Anger she’d suppressed for all these years felt as if it was bursting through her. ‘We’re not taking his money.’
‘OK,’ Hugo said carefully. ‘But, as I can’t see the problem, would you mind telling me why?’
She stared into her coffee. ‘He was at Oxford when I was there. I hated my first year. Maybe I picked the wrong college, but I didn’t fit in. I was the granddaughter of a coal miner and I had a funny accent. I came from a council estate instead of a country estate. I didn’t go to a posh school.’ She grimaced and shook her head. ‘So I just got on with my work, and showed my face where I had to, but social situations were horrible. There were all these invisible tests I kept failing.
‘I told myself it would be better in the second year, but it wasn’t. And then Barney came up to me one day in the library. He said he’d noticed me in the quad. He wanted to go out with me. I thought it was probably some sort of joke, so I said no. But he persisted, and eventually I agreed.’ She looked up at Hugo. ‘And it was amazing. He made me feel as if I was special. All these girls from his background were just queuing up to date him, but he’d chosen me. I didn’t like the people he mixed with very much, but he kind of protected me from them, and he taught me all the little social things that never occurred to me. He got me to change the way I wore my hair, the way I dressed, so I fitted in.’
It was all horribly clear to Hugo, now. He understood why Alice had been twitchy about meeting his parents, about wearing the right things. Especially as it sounded as if his background was similar to Barney’s. She must’ve been terrified that they’d find her lacking.
‘You didn’t need to change who you were,’ he said softly. ‘There’s nothing wrong with you at all.’
‘I changed,’ she said. ‘I fitted in. And it was wonderful. I’d never been happier. I adored Barney. I really thought he was the one, and he dropped so many hints that I thought he was going to ask me to marry him at the Commemoration Ball. I got this really special dress. I actually used my overdraft, because I wanted it to be special in case he really did propose—it was something I wanted to remember for ever. It started out as the perfect evening, and even the bitchier girls in his set were nice to me.’
Hugo had a feeling that there was a ‘but’ coming. A seriously nasty ‘but’.
‘And then I overhead them talking in the toilets. They didn’t know I was there. They were saying how Barney was going to win his bet; he was going to win a lot of money from his pals, that night, because he’d managed to turn the oik into one of them. I couldn’t believe it. I honestly thought he loved me—but it turned out that he was mocking me as much as the others did. He was only going out with me for a bet. It was a weird kind of Eliza Doolittle thing. Make the girl from t’pit into a toff.’
She dragged in a breath. ‘When I walked out of the toilet and washed my hands, the other girls were still there and they looked horrified. I could see them mouthing frantically to each other, wondering if I’d overheard. I just ignored them and walked back into the ballroom. Barney was talking to his friends and he didn’t see me come up behind him. But I heard what they said. It was all “tonight’s the night”. Earlier, I would’ve thought that they knew he was going to propose to me, but after what I’d just heard I knew it had a different meaning.’
Hugo was shocked by how unkind Barney and his friends had been, but he wasn’t going to interrupt Alice now. She needed to get this out of her head, once and for all.
‘I asked Barney to come outside with me—I wasn’t going to have this conversation in front of his mates. Then I said I’d heard that he was dating me for a bet. He blustered, but I could see the truth in his eyes. I asked him if tonight was the deadline for his bet. And then he said yes. I asked how much he was going to win. He wouldn’t tell me, and I said if he had a shred of decency he’d donate that money to a shelter for the homeless. That I never wanted to see him again. And then I walked out.’ She bit her lip. ‘I felt so stupid. So used. I thought he loved me. And all along I’d just been a joke to him. Free sex, because I was stupid enough to think he mattered and I gave him my virginity—and no doubt he boasted about that to all his mates, too.’ She shrugged.
‘The last week of term was awful. Everyone was laughing at me, at how stupid I’d been to think that someone like Barney Rutherford would ever be serious about someone like me. I thought about just leaving Oxford so I didn’t have to face any of them again, but that would’ve meant they’d won. So instead I went to see my personal tutor and asked if I could move college. I said it was awkward because I’d split up with Barney, and I wanted to concentrate on my studies and not get distracted by anything else. My tutor was lovely and told me to stay at college, and he helped me find somewhere else to live for the third year. I didn’t socialise much in my last year, just focused on my work.’ She lifted her chin. ‘I graduated top of my year and scooped a couple of awards. But best of all I got my place to do my MA and then my PhD in London. And it was a lot better—people actually liked me for myself, here. It didn’t matter where I came from.’ She dragged in a breath. ‘And that is why I’m not taking anything from Barney Rutherford.’
He took her hand. ‘First off, that was a really horrible thing to do to you. I don’t understand the kind of man who’d behave like that, and you really didn’t deserve to be treated like that. Secondly, I think you’re amazing because you rose above it all and didn’t let them drive you out.’
‘But did I?’ she asked. ‘I seem to be completely useless at picking Mr Right. Every man I’ve dated since then—well, except you—has wanted to change me. It always starts off all right, but then he wants me to dress differently or do my hair differently or speak differently, or do something more girly and less scientific, or…’ She shook her head. ‘I think there’s something wrong with me. I can’t move on from being the oik who doesn’t quite fit in.’
‘You’re not an oik,’ he said.
‘No? Barney and his lot were right. Appearances matter.’
‘Only on a very superficial level,’ he said.
‘Come off it, Hugo. Look at your industry. It’s about beautiful buildings.’
‘But if they’re beautiful and don’t do their job, they’re a failure,’ he pointed out.
‘Everyone dresses in posh suits.’
‘It’s a convention,’ he said. ‘Though, actually, if you’re a really brilliant architect, you can wear odd socks and crumpled clothes and everyone will just think you’re quirky.’
‘Even if you’ve got the wrong accent and the wrong background?’
‘There’s no such thing as a wrong accent and a wrong background. It’s what you do that matters,’ he said. ‘What’s in your head and what’s in your heart.’
Why couldn’t she believe him? Why couldn’t she move on?
‘But even you,’ she said. ‘You wanted me to be something different.’
He shook his head. ‘I’ve never asked you to change the way you dress. Actually, I happen to like the way you dress. You’re incredibly cute. Especially with those sassy slogans on your T-shirts.’
‘I don’t mean that.’ She looked away. ‘That morning… I was so happy, when I woke in your arms. And then you called me Emma, and I knew it wasn’t me you really wanted. You wanted her. And I can’t be her. I just can’t.’
His intake of breath was audible, and she winced. ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean that to sound as bad as it did.’
‘It sounded bad,’ he said, ‘and it is bad, because it’s not fair. Other than Emma, you’re the first woman I’ve slept with in more than a decade. And you know I’m an owl, Alice. You can’t even talk to me until I’ve had two cups of coffee in the morning, because I’m so not a morning person and what comes out of my mouth won’t make any sense. Yes, I miss my wife. I loved her so much and we were happy together. But she died, Alice. She’s not here any more and nobody can bring her back. She wouldn’t want me to spend the rest of my life, alone and grieving—though that was exactly what I was doing until I met you. And then you started changing things. You changed the way I see things, showed me that there’s still light in the world and I need to stop trudging along in my lonely little rut and reach for the sunlight. You showed me there are butterflies. That I can stop existing with boxes around me, that putting flowers everywhere makes life better.’
He stood up. ‘Come with me. There’s something I need to show you. And I don’t care that it’s raining and I don’t care if you trudge mud all over my floor—or—’ He waved one hand in seeming exasperation, clearly failing to find the right words. ‘Oh, just come with me, Alice. Please.’
She followed him out into the garden. And then she saw what she hadn’t noticed when she’d walked into his house: that the right-hand far corner of the garden wasn’t a neat manicured lawn any more. He’d dug a flower bed.
‘It’s a flower bed,’ she said.
‘No. No, it isn’t.’ He shook his head and took her hand. ‘Look closer.’
She walked across the lawn with him, and then she realised.
He’d planted nettles.
‘You’re making a wild corner.’
‘It’s a nectar guide. An Alice guide,’ he said. ‘And I got it wrong because you can’t see it properly at this angle. You need to see it from my bedroom window—and I don’t want to tell you to go upstairs and look at it because I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.’ He pulled his phone from his pocket, flicked into the photo app and selected a photo. ‘Here.’
She stared at it.
The flower bed contained a heart shape. And written in nettles were the words Hugo Loves Alice.
‘You love me,’ she said in wonder.
‘Yes. I love you enough to change my garden for you—and do you have any idea how hard it is to find baby nettles?’
‘How did you do it?’ she asked.
‘I spent the whole of yesterday digging various people’s allotments and taking out weeds—in the rain, and just so you know I refused to move the thistles on the ground that they’re important butterfly food sources—in exchange for baby nettles,’ he said. ‘I brought them back from Sussex in seed trays donated by my mother. And I spent the whole of today using Jacob’s second-best spade, fork and trowel to make a proper bed for them and planting them. In the rain. Because I didn’t know how else to tell you how I feel.’
‘You love me,’ she said again, not quite taking it in.
‘Yes. I love the real you. The scientist who sends me nerdy facts and teases me about my shoes and worries about ticks. The woman who has slogans on her T-shirt and mad hair. The woman who sees beauty and teaches other people how to see it, too. You’re like those Morphos you showed me at the butterfly house—all quiet and hiding in the background, like they are when their wings are closed. And then you start talking about your subject, and you open up, and you’re stunning—just like a Morpho flying. I can’t take my eyes off you. And I’m not saying that because I’ve got any hidden agendas. I love you and I want to be with you. I know I messed it up and I hurt you, and I’m sorry. But I really do love you, Alice.’
‘I’m sorry, too,’ she said. ‘I let my past get in the way. I didn’t give you a chance to explain. I thought I knew best—and I don’t.’
‘I’m glad you realise that,’ he said. ‘Because I think we’ve got a future. Just we both need to compromise a bit.’
‘Yes.’ She looked at him. ‘I love you, too, Hugo. Even though you’re posh and you’re a walking clothes horse, you’re… You’ve shown me things, too. Beautiful structures, the way the light gets in. The way you feel about glass and staircases, that’s like the way I feel about butterflies. You get me, and I get you. And I hurt you as much as you hurt me, by being proud and stubborn and too scared to take a chance on you. I’m sorry.’
‘We’re both going to have to work on communication, in the future,’ he said. ‘But, for now…’ He cupped her face in his hand, dipped his head and kissed her. ‘I love you,’ he whispered. ‘And now I think we’d better go back inside before we’re both completely soaked.’
Once he’d closed the glass door behind them, he drew her back into his arms. ‘If you don’t want to take Barney’s money, that’s fine. We’ll find another sponsor.’
She kissed him. ‘Why do I feel there’s a “but”?’
‘Because there is one,’ he said. ‘He hurt you. He owes you a massive apology. And we could make something good happen out of something bad.’
‘How?’
‘Take the money. Except you’ll be the one to take it and make very sure he knows who you are. And that you’ve won, because you’re the one who’s made a real difference to the world—to your students, to the butterflies, and to me.’
Could she?
Should she?
‘Think about it,’ he said. ‘I’m here if you want to bounce ideas. Whatever you decide, that won’t change how I feel about you. I love you; my family and my best friend think you’re wonderful; and I maybe need to work a little harder until you think I’m good enough to meet your family.’
‘You’re good enough,’ she said. ‘I think they’ll see you the same way Ruth does. And she thinks you’re fabulous, by the way.’
‘Good,’ he said. ‘So we get to start again?’
She shook her head. ‘We don’t need to start again. You were right the first time. We just need to communicate a bit better in future.’
‘So was Jacob right and I should’ve written that message in proper flowers?’
She laughed. ‘No. You were right to say it with nettles. Give my butterflies somewhere to lay their eggs and for their caterpillars to feed. It’s the most romantic thing I’ve ever, ever seen.’
‘You,’ he said, ‘are weird.’
She grinned. ‘Takes one to know one…’
* * *
Two days later, Alice headed to Rutherford and Associates, walking hand in hand with Hugo, wearing her favourite T-shirt and jeans and hiking boots.
‘That looks like battle gear,’ Hugo said.
‘It is,’ she said. ‘I don’t need to dress up or have a posh accent; it’s who I am and what I can do that’s really important. I’m a butterfly specialist—so I’m going to look like one.’
‘You’ve missed a few words out, Dr Walters,’ he said. ‘You’re also brilliant, brave and generally fantastic.’ He kissed her lightly. ‘I’m going to loiter in the coffee shop across the road. Call me if you need me—but I don’t think you will. You’re more than good enough on your own, just as you are.’
Ten years ago, she wouldn’t have believed him. Maybe even earlier in the summer she wouldn’t have been sure. But now, she knew he was right. She was good enough, just as she was.
She took a deep breath. ‘I’ll come and find you when I’m done.’
Five minutes later, she was in Barney’s office.
‘Thank you for coming to talk about the project, Dr Walters.’ Then he peered at her. ‘Alice?’
She inclined her head. ‘You remember me?’
His face suffused with colour. ‘Yes.’
‘The oik. Your Yorkshire version of Eliza Doolittle.’ She made her accent that little bit broader. ‘But it isn’t what you look like or what you sound like that matters, Barney. It’s who you are. How you treat other people. How you behave.’
He stared at her.
‘It’s all right. I’m not going to start a fight. I don’t expect you to apologise.’ She looked at him. ‘I don’t need your approval or your apologies, because I already have the respect of people who actually matter.’
‘So why are you here?’ he asked.
‘Because,’ she said, ‘you offered sponsorship for the butterfly house. And I’m looking at this purely as a business transaction. Yes, I could take the moral high ground and refuse your money—but then we’d have to find another sponsor, and I’d rather spend my time on other things. So I’m here to accept your money. And I wanted to do it in person so you know I’m not intimidated by you or your family or your friends—not the way I was at Oxford.’
He looked at her. ‘I wasn’t very nice to you.’
‘No, you weren’t,’ she agreed.
‘I didn’t know you were involved in this project.’
‘Does that mean you’re withdrawing your offer?’
He gave her a wry smile. ‘No. It doesn’t. Please, take a seat.’
She did so. ‘So why did you offer us the sponsorship?’
‘My clients want green investments, so it makes sense for us to sponsor something involving ecology,’ he said.
‘Why the butterfly house?’
‘Because I have a daughter. Daisy’s four years old and she loves butterflies,’ he said. ‘I wanted to do something for her, too, something she could be proud of when she grows up.’
So maybe Barney had changed.
He shifted in his seat. ‘When she’s older, if anyone treats her the way I treated you at Oxford, I’ll want to tear him apart with my bare hands. I know you said you didn’t want an apology, but you deserve one.’ He took a deep breath. ‘I’m sorry, Alice. I’m not who I was back then, either. I hope I’ve grown up, become a better person.’
She hoped so, too.
‘I’ll match my company’s sponsorship personally. In the circumstances, that’s the least I can do.’
She hadn’t expected that. ‘Thank you. Obviously you’ve had the information from our PR people, but I think you need to know exactly what we’re doing.’ And she talked him through the project, everything from Viola’s work through to Rosemary’s, to the design Hugo had made for the butterfly house and the kind of educational resources they were going to offer. As she talked, her confidence grew. And she wasn’t The Oik any more. She was Dr Alice Walters. Professional. Good at what she did.
‘That,’ Barney said when she’d finished, ‘sounds amazing. My clients are going to be thrilled.’ He smiled. ‘And so is my daughter.’
Alice knew she could walk away now, triumphant. Or she could do something better: she could build a bridge. ‘We’re re-wilding the garden over the summer as well as building the butterfly house. Bring your daughter to see us, with her mum. She can help to plant something, and then she’ll always know that she helped make a difference to that little corner of the garden.’
‘I’d like that,’ he said. ‘Thank you, Alice.’
She stood up, and reached across the desk to shake his hand, knowing that finally she had closure on her past. ‘You’re welcome. And thank you for sponsoring our project. You’re helping to make a difference.’
Then she walked over to the coffee shop to meet Hugo.
‘Are you OK?’ he asked when she sat down opposite him.
She nodded. ‘I faced him. I wasn’t sure if I was more angry or worried that he wouldn’t take me seriously—but then I realised that you were right. I make a difference. It’s not just what I do at work, it’s who I am as well.’ She smiled. ‘And he apologised.’
‘Good. That was long overdue.’ He leaned over and took her hands. ‘And I’m guessing he’s going to give us the money Pav asked for and a bit more.’
She looked at him, shocked. ‘How did you know?’
‘Because you, my love, were going to talk to him about the project. And when you talk about butterflies, you sparkle and you light up the room. You’re amazing and you’re irresistible.’
Hugo valued her for who she was. Loved her for who she was. And that made her hold her head that little bit higher. Finally, she’d moved on from being the oik Barney’s set had laughed at. She was herself. She was enough.
‘We don’t have to accept his money,’ Hugo said, when she didn’t say anything. ‘This is your project. You make the call.’
‘It’s your project too. And Rosemary’s, Viola’s and Emma’s. It’s teamwork.’
‘But you,’ Hugo said, ‘are my priority.’
And how amazing that made her feel. He was putting her first. ‘We’ll accept it,’ she said. ‘Because this gorgeous architect I happen to know taught me the value of building things with good foundations. His daughter likes butterflies. I told him to bring her to the house and she can help plant something.’
‘Great idea.’ He inclined his head. ‘Congratulations on nailing the deal.’
‘With your support.’
‘I didn’t do anything.’ He shrugged. ‘I just sat here, drinking coffee.’
‘You were here as my backup if I needed you.’ She stole a kiss. ‘You believed in me. More than that, you’ve taught me that I’m OK with who I am.’
‘My brilliant, gorgeous butterfly specialist.’ He kissed her back. ‘I love you. And I can’t wait for the future.’
‘My brilliant, gorgeous architect. I love you, too. And we’re going to build the butterfly house. Fulfil Rosemary’s dream.’
‘And,’ he said softly, ‘our own. You, me and the future.’
‘You, me and the future,’ she echoed.