It was late morning as Claire weaved slowly down the narrow lane that led to the Arrow Hall site. The trees that formed an arch over the road had grown bigger and darker with their summer leaves, and the intricate iron gates with green mould on the top were still there. They were stuck wide open as they always had been for as long as she could remember.
The memory should have given her tingling excitement but not today. Her dream of Arrow Hall, walking in its newly landscaped gardens, was fading. It had been raining on the site and her car squelched in the mud. Claire stopped and shuddered. Since she had called just a couple of weeks ago, ugly grey hoardings now surrounded the perimeter, with large, industrial gates at the entrance to the building work. She was tense.
As she drew up near to the container that was to be the office, the site looked empty. She parked her car next to an open-top, vintage sports car with gleaming red metal. It stood out in the eerie quietness of the place.
But loud shouting suddenly boomed into the air.
‘Which planet do you think you’re on, Jimmy? You don’t know how to run this site, you arrogant idiot.’
The shout came from a man with heavy, wide shoulders, with a baseball cap drawn over his eyes, who appeared from behind a stack of timber.
Jimmy – a younger man with rolled up shirt sleeves, a mug in one hand and a sandwich in the other – walked quickly towards Claire as she left her car.
‘Get off this site if you don’t like it. I run this place, not you,’ Jimmy said, and he turned towards the irate block layer as if to face him off.
‘You’d better listen up this time, else work stops.’
The shouting was followed by a string of expletives, bellowed out so quickly by the builder, he struggled to pour them from his mouth. He picked up a brick, then had second thoughts what to do with it. It dropped to the ground, and he stalked away in the opposite direction. It started to rain in a sharp shower, and Claire walked into the small cabin to shelter. Inside it was hot and damp, and she peered through the window, expecting Jimmy to join her. But she saw him running towards the vintage sports car. He fumbled to pull the hood into place to keep the seats free from the rain. As he finished, three men were standing in an arc close by, and Claire could hear their jeering shouts.
‘Which lady are you trying to impress today with your fancy motor, eh, Jimmy?’
Jimmy waved his arm at them.
‘Get back to your tools, you layabouts,’ he yelled back.
He walked into the cabin and saw Claire, and his face was taught with tension.
‘You must be Claire.’
‘You must be James. Or Jimmy?’
‘Ignore that lot of serfs out there. I’m James and that’s final.’ It was said with force, as if it was an insult which he resented.
‘I see you’ve already started on the site.’
‘Yeah, I’ve had a contractor clear some of the debris, remains of the fire. A challenging site, this one, but I’m sure it will go well,’ James said.
‘I always get nostalgic when I come here,’ Claire said. ‘This was such a beautiful, historic building, going back to the fifteen hundreds. I hope between us we can resurrect Arrow Hall. But I guess, when it’s finished, it won’t look quite the same as I remember it. Have you ever seen photos of what the old house looked like? Did you know I’ve researched its history?’
‘No, thank you. I don’t want to be sidetracked by something that might look quite different to what we’re going to build here,’ James said.
‘James, this place is going to haunt you whether you like it or not. There was a Sir William Wholinge. He built the old house. And rebuilding Arrow Hall to look and feel just like it did all those years ago – with its tall, brick-built chimneys twisted in shape, almost like a corkscrew – is what I hope we will see. Then, the taller chimneys showed off your wealth. But not today. He was the squire of the place who farmed all of this land and land for many miles around. Sir William was a man who had two wives and six children, and he was a Protestant friend of Elizabeth I. And the Queen, on one of her tours of her country, stayed in Arrow Hall in 1601. So, James, when you see the building grow, tell me which room you think she slept in.’
‘We can follow the footprint of the original house. But beyond that, it’ll be time to move on and forget the past.’
‘My dream is that Arrow Hall will be rebuilt to show off its history from inside and outside. It’s a building with its own life and we owe it that.’
James turned away, disinterested in what Claire was saying.
‘Seeing it all as bleak as this, is Rick’s budget of £300,000 going to be enough?’ Claire asked.
‘It’s tight. Prices are going up all the time. Some builders are cowboys; you’ve just seen one, but I’ll sort ’em out. Anyway, I pass you the bills, you pay up promptly, otherwise we don’t talk about money. That’s a deal I hope, Claire.’
James was crisp and curt in his reply, and it left Claire unsure how much James would listen to her. James looked at his watch.
‘What about a drink? There’s a nice country pub around the corner. Have you got half an hour to spare? And it is time for a break now.’
‘No. Some other day. I’ve got other things I must do today.’
Standing in the cramped, dusty space that was the office, James quickly finished his sandwich and took a noisy slurp from a mug.
‘I’ve already got a few accounts for you to pay. A contractor has cleared the debris from the fire, and diggers have started to claw at the earth for the new foundations. And there’ll be a lot more to come.’ James hesitated and looked at Claire.
Claire felt his stare and started to open her laptop.
‘I’d like to get to know you,’ James said.
‘We’re going to work together. You’ll soon find out my foibles.’ Claire laughed.
James laughed back and passed a folder to her of bills to pay.
‘Have you brought me some notes I can splash around? There are a few black economy guys out there I need to keep this place tidy.’
Claire handed James a leather briefcase she had brought from the safe in Rick’s apartment.
‘There’s fifteen thousand pounds in bundled notes in there. I shall need to know exactly how you spend it. So, keep a record for me, please.’
‘Yeah. Maybe. But that’s just to start with. Bring me some more money to spread around every couple of weeks. Please remember, Claire, my first job is to fix this place so it gets the building growing. But keeping records? I’m not too good at that so don’t expect much,’ James replied. He started to walk from the cabin without looking back at Claire.
Claire, always meticulous about money, had promised Rick she would take control over how James was spending it, and she would do precisely that. But there was a distinct edge from James; his arrogance was on show, and shouting at contractors reminded her of Harry Stone’s ego bellowing down the phone. This was not a place where she would tolerate hearing that again. His dismissive response to money left Claire uncertain.
Next time she would go to the pub, have a drink with James. Today he was brash with his flashy red sports car –would there be another side away from the mud and coarseness of a building site? From what she had seen of James, Claire was already wary.
It was a slow drive back to the emptiness of Rick’s apartment, and Claire was alone. Isolated from anyone to talk to, Claire had growing doubt that she would ever see life in Arrow Hall again. How much would Rick spend on the site? And would she find a black hole sucking in as much money as James wanted to splash around on rebuilding Arrow Hall?