The next morning Holly crawled out of bed and the first thing she did was drink two glasses of water. Not so much a hangover as an ‘Oh God, why do I do this to myself?’ It worked fairly quickly, enough that she found herself wondering if it was an indication that her capacity for alcohol was perhaps greater than it should have been? If she cut down on food and drink, what would there be left for her? It certainly wasn’t going to be sex!
Kate had left a message while she’d been out the previous day.
‘I’ll pick you up at eight.’
Holly had some muesli to ease her conscience and opened the front door just as Kate and Phoebe arrived. As luck would have it the sun was shining brightly that morning, a bit too brightly for Holly after her excesses the night before, and off they went like three schoolgirls, all talking at once. After apologising for her alcoholic breath she sat in the back, leaning forward between the front seats so that she didn’t miss anything.
‘Here, have a mint.’
‘That bad? Thanks, Phoebe.’ Holly took the proffered sweet gratefully, feeling slightly embarrassed. She sat back, hoping to distance herself enough not to be offensive but she – and they – were far too excited and she leaned forward again pretty quickly.
This was Holly’s first visit to Bath and she was knocked out by it.
‘It’s like being a part of history. Like being dropped in the middle of another age,’ Holly said when they visited the Bath Postal Museum. ‘Just imagine. Something we so take for granted began here with the Penny Black.’
‘Well I was disappointed there weren’t any demos at the Theatre of Glass. I’d been looking forward to that.’
‘I know, Kate, but for me the most amazing thing has been the architecture. Have you ever seen anything like the Royal Crescent in London, Holly?’
‘No, Phoebe. While I would be the first to say that London boasts some of the most beautiful buildings in the world, I’ve never seen anything like it. Mind you, set up high as it is gives it an added dimension, doesn’t it.’
‘Okay, if you’re going to talk like an artist maybe we should just have a quick lunch so we don’t waste a lot of time eating? What do you both think?’
‘Absolutely!’ Kate and Holly answered in unison.
Holly was delighted to find the reality of places she’d only read about in Georgette Heyer’s novels or those of Jane Austen. Sydney Place and Henrietta Street really existed. All three girls were wilting slightly by the time they got back to Cuffingham but it had been a fantastic day. Kate dropped Phoebe first as they’d come back via a different route, so Holly was able, even from the outside, to take in the splendour of her home. Phoebe was landed gentry! Or a descendent of. She lived in a kind of manor house; in fact, it may well have been the manor house once.
‘It’s beautiful, Phoebe. How lucky are you.’
‘Don’t I know it, Holly. It does bring responsibilities though. Unfortunately some of my fairly recent ancestors frittered away the family fortune and the house is all that was left. I had two choices. Sell up or exploit it. It was a no-brainer.’
Holly felt incapable of judging the upkeep. Instead of being a landed lady, Phoebe was a landlady. Rather than sell her beloved home, she’d turned it into a hotel, and a very select one at that. Apparently she’d taken to business like a duck to water, and she now employed a small but dedicated staff who ran the place for her.
She’d converted part of the house into an apartment for herself, with a separate entrance, and she was able to live her life exactly as she wanted. Phoebe assured Holly, though, that she worked very hard keeping the books. Well at least Holly now knew how she had time to traipse around the country. She also knew who to ask for advice when the time came for her to do her own bookkeeping.
‘We sometimes hang local artists on the dining-room walls. If you like we could do a Holly Hunter season, but it would have to be sale or return,’ Phoebe had offered. ‘I couldn’t pay you for them myself.’
‘That would be fantastic! Thank you. As long as it’s this local artist’s work, and not the local artist herself that you intend to hang on the walls!’
‘Oh, I don’t know. You might fetch quite a good price! I think it might be better to wait until late spring or early summer though when there’s a greater turnover of bodies. Give you more chance of selling something.’
‘I don’t know what to say, except thank you again and yes please. That would be fantastic. Even if nothing sells it should help to get me known locally.’
‘Well, if you’re prepared to take the risk, I am. After the burglary last year one or two people weren’t too keen.’
‘You were burgled?’
‘Yep. They pinched a couple of paintings off the wall, and I know their owners were upset, and rightly so, but they also broke into the small showcase where I used to keep a few valuables. Nothing with any sentimental attachment thank goodness, too far back in history to really mean anything to me, but they were worth quite a lot and the insurance company paid out an enormous amount. It was the feeling of violation that was so difficult to deal with.’
‘Oh, I’m so sorry.’ Holly wasn’t at all convinced that the stolen pieces meant little to Phoebe. Something to do with the way she brushed it aside told her otherwise.
‘Well, there was a spate of break-ins at the time. The police never did catch who did it, but I believe they think it was someone in the know. Apparently each place appeared to be hand-picked, as if the burglar had inside knowledge. And even if I wasn’t particularly attached to the pieces that were stolen it’s just that now I’ve nothing left from the past.’ Then visibly pulling herself together she said, ‘Except the house, of course. That’s pretty substantial, and not quite so easy to steal.’
They’d been sitting outside for ages. As Phoebe got out Holly jumped into the front seat for the short drive home.
***
Adam decided to try again to drop in and apologise to Holly. Twice actually in between making house calls. When she didn’t answer the second time he scribbled a quick note, saying sorry and telling her Meg was fine and would she like to have coffee with him sometime. Much easier than asking her face to face. He was whistling as he drove away, hopeful that he might at last be able to mend things between them.
***
Holly was astonished when she found Adam’s message on the mat. In fact her stomach did a little flip. Mindful that she’d decided men were not going to figure in her immediate future, the prospect was nonetheless appealing. And surely coffee with a friend was okay. It’s not like he was asking for a date or anything.
She was smiling as she picked up four messages on the landline, all asking about the classes. It was only just over twenty-four hours since she’d delivered the leaflets. She was itching to return the calls but it was far too late to phone anyone. She had no idea who the callers were though they’d all left names. One sounded familiar and the message suggested she ought to know who it was. Somebody called Ginny, but she’d met so many new people lately.
It was decision time. She had to determine when to hold the classes. She rejected Monday immediately for no other reason than it was the day after the weekend. Midweek seemed good. Most of the shops in the village closed on Wednesday afternoons, at this time of the year anyway, possibly the whole year round for all she knew, and the library was shut all day. Even artists, some of them at least, have a practical side and Holly realised that Wednesday afternoon gave an opportunity to anyone working in the retail sector to come during the day. Again, being realistic, she didn’t think she could hold a class and open the gallery at the same time, even for browsers.
Okay, that ruled out any other daytime sessions. She could of course do Wednesday evenings as well. That way it would be kind of encapsulated. In addition she needed to consider her own work. One of the things she was resolute would set Art-e-Mis apart from shops working in the same area was that she would only stock things that had been self-produced. She was determined to succeed or fail on her own merits not someone else’s.
Most places, she was sure, outsourced, even if a percentage of the stock was their own. She had no qualms about filling the space, only that there might not be a demand. But she had to try. And as there was no way she’d be able to take a holiday during the summer at the height of the season she decided she might as well schedule weekly classes rather than term by term.
Holly was well aware that she was in a very fortunate position for the most unfortunate of reasons. Her parents had left her well provided for and she could probably have got by without working at all, or at the very most by taking a part-time job. She was sure that wasn’t the legacy her mum and dad would have liked to leave her and she so much wanted to make them proud of her even though they wouldn’t be around to see what she achieved.
Five years down the line she’d managed for the most part to shut the accident out of her mind. Both taken on a pedestrian crossing by a hit-and-run driver. She was told they didn’t suffer and tried to believe it. What she couldn’t shut out was her sense of loss and she’d sometimes have conversations with her parents at night in the privacy of her bedroom when she was reminded of the vision of Harry watching his parents in the mirror – Harry Potter, that is, not Harry Hunter. There was a feeling of rightness about that scene in The Philosopher’s Stone and she felt it too when she ‘talked’ to her parents.
Aside from her ambition to become rich and famous on her own account, what Holly really wanted was a car. A small second-hand run-around would do her nicely and though she’d done little driving in London she’d held a licence for years. She wouldn’t allow herself to spend capital on what she considered a luxury rather than a necessity but it was top of her to-buy list now that she’d got a proper coffee machine. It would of course be rather more expensive than a coffee machine but she was content to wait.
What she didn’t want to do was rely on other people. Kate and Phoebe would have been going to Bath anyway and there was no question of taking turns with Emma. Each would do what they could for the other and Holly knew there were other ways she could try to repay Emma’s kindness, though nothing would ever really be enough. The shopping trips were something they both enjoyed and it was irrelevant who did the driving as long as Emma let her buy the petrol occasionally or pay for lunch.
Holly had had a very long day and, yawning widely, she went to bed. Sleep? No way. As soon as her head hit the pillow she was suddenly wide awake again. After tossing about for a while she gave up, got up, and watched a late movie on her lovely new television. She fell asleep and dreamt she was creating a mural with Old Meg in the middle and her parents on either side. She came to on the sofa at about four in the morning freezing cold – no Gordon this time to tuck her up in her duvet – went back to bed and slept like a babe until seven forty-five.
***
March came in like the proverbial lion. What a contrast to the day before! It was dark, wet, and blowing a gale. Holly didn’t think anyone would appreciate a phone call so early in the morning so she decided to wait till after she’d been to the library, hard though that was. The name Ginny belonged to the librarian she’d asked about the fliers so that was one mystery solved. Wednesday afternoon suited her fine and she agreed the fee, so Holly booked her first student and tried to appear professional about it, even though she was bubbling inside. From the smile on Ginny’s face Holly thought she probably hadn’t succeeded very well.
After the library she went to the art shop and bought supplies. Her students would need to bring their own paints and brushes, and she would advise them what else to buy, but she would need some basic equipment and it didn’t seem right to expect people to say, for example, ‘Excuse me, would you pass the scissors, please.’ She carried her booty home and returned the previous night’s calls, making three more in response to other messages that were waiting for her.
By lunchtime that day, Friday, she had four people signed up for the afternoon class and two for the evening. Unfortunately one of the callers couldn’t make Wednesdays at all. Holly was bursting to tell Emma but she was at work so she sent her a text instead. She’d have to wait until after school to speak to her. After a quick lunch she set to with a will to finish the board that was going next to the gallery. If she was hoping to open for business soon, she figured it was important people should be able to see where she was.
Something else that was a matter of urgency was getting some warmth into that part of the building that was to house both studio and gallery. The cottage had central heating and she had a lovely fireplace in the parlour. When the fire was going it kept the whole place warm. The whole place, that is, except the extension, to which the central heating hadn’t been extended and somehow the warm air from the rest of the cottage didn’t flow through into that part.
She needed something efficient and safe. The fumes given off by paint and glue are extremely inflammable and she couldn’t afford to take any risks, a reminder that she would need to take out some form of insurance. She phoned Kate to see if she had any idea about heaters and struck gold.
‘Oh yes. In fact I’ve got something here that I don’t use any more since we had a new system installed. You can have it if you like. It’s only sitting in the garage gathering dust.’
There was nothing Holly could do but accept with good grace and much gratitude.
‘I’m going to have a pre-opening cheese and wine evening on the last Thursday in March. Even if permission hasn’t come through yet I’ll be starting the classes. Will you and Charlie be able to come, do you think?’
‘We’d love to.’
‘Great. It’ll be an open invitation but I’d like to ask everyone I know in Cuffingham in person. Oh, and can I let you know about collecting the heater?’
‘Don’t be silly. I know you haven’t got transport. Charlie and I will bring it round on Sunday so you’ve got a chance to warm the place up before people start flocking through your door.’
‘Flocking sounds good. Do you know who I can get to erect a sign for me? I’ve made one to go at the side but I haven’t a clue who to ask to fix it.’
‘Well, unless it’s something major when I have to call a professional, I always ask Gordon if I’ve got any handiwork that needs doing. Charlie’s hopeless, and Gordon so likes to get his hands dirty.’
And so it was that Holly rather sheepishly went along to Gordon’s shop to enlist his help and to invite him to the preview. He was talking to a customer when she arrived so she had a good look around while she waited.
‘Hello, Holly,’ he said quietly. ‘How are you?’
Startled, she almost dropped the ornament she’d picked up. She’d been so engrossed she hadn’t even realised the woman had gone.
‘I’m fine, thank you.’ She could feel the blood surging into her cheeks. ‘Look I’m really sorry about what happened the other day, Gordon. I didn’t get in touch because it didn’t seem fair to you, but I actually sent Harry away, for good this time.’ Somehow it was important that she let Gordon know this. ‘Maybe it was good that he came. Maybe I needed it to prove to myself that I really can stand on my own feet. Anyway, I didn’t want you to think that I was just using you as a pick-me-up. I didn’t want to think it myself.’ She paused to take in air. ‘So I didn’t call,’ she finished lamely.
‘I see.’
Holly thought she saw a tiny twitch at the corner of his mouth? She carried on.
‘I’ve been working like mad to get the gallery ready and I’ve arranged to give classes on Wednesday afternoons and evenings. Starting first week in April. And I’m going to open on the following Monday if I get the go-ahead, just before Easter weekend. I’m pretty confident I’ll have planning consent by then. If not, I’ll just have to put off opening until I do or, more probably, open as a showroom without selling anything. I suppose I could take orders. And I’m having a cheese and wine pre-launch on the last Thursday in March. Please come. Oh God, listen to me. I know I’m babbling but I feel really awkward – embarrassed too. But I would so like us to be friends.’
‘I see,’ he said again.
It seemed she couldn’t stop talking.
‘And I need to ask you a favour. Kate says you’re a great handyman and I’ve got this sign that needs putting up. I was just wondering …’
‘Oh you were, were you?’ But he smiled and she saw him relax. ‘Of course I will. The shop’s open tomorrow. Will Sunday do?’
‘Yes, whenever you can. I’m just so grateful.’
And, very sharply: ‘I don’t want your gratitude!’
Not so relaxed then.
Holly caught up with Emma during the evening and brought her up to date about everything that was happening in her life that she didn’t already know, including her conversation with Gordon.
‘Be careful, Holly. I don’t want to see you hurt. I don’t want to see either of you hurt. But this remark about not wanting your gratitude, it makes me wonder. And as for you. Well, you know how I feel about you, and you’re pretty vulnerable at the moment. Don’t exchange one set of baggage for another.’
‘No, I know. You’re right. I know you are. It’s just that, well it was all going so nicely before Harry turned up. Mind you, it was good for two things. One, that much as I like Gordon I don’t think we’re looking for the same thing and two, at least it’s proved to me that as far as Harry’s concerned I’m finally well and truly free.’
‘Exactly my point.’
‘Anyway, I expect you and Tom to come to my Grand Opening Do. In fact I insist you do.’
‘I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Never let it be said I wasn’t by your side to help launch you on the road to fame.’
Gordon was as good as his word and came round on Sunday morning. He looked at Holly’s efforts and tried very hard not to smile. Then he dismantled the sign and put it together again so it wouldn’t fall down in the first gust of wind, after which it was up in no time. Following a few minutes of natural apprehension they were behaving with all the ease of a long-standing friendship.
Holly was, to say the least, relieved. After all, in a small place like Cuffingham, the likelihood was they would meet often. Gordon stayed for a snack lunch and then they spent some of the afternoon rearranging the gallery. She’d thought it looked really good, but there were some things that were better for being moved. Sometimes you can get too close and Holly had been working in there frantically for days. Gordon stood back and surveyed it all objectively. He wasn’t picky but just made a few truly helpful suggestions. In the middle of all this Kate and Charlie arrived with the heater.
‘As I’m having a preview of the preview, I insist on having first choice. You’re asking a ridiculous price for this decoupage but I have to have it. Don’t you just love it, Charlie? Mind you, Holly, I want a ten per cent discount.’
‘Well … well, yes, of course. But I can’t take money from you. You’re my friend, for God’s sake.’
‘Holly, you’re going to have to toughen up a bit if you want this business to succeed. You paid Gordon for the chairs didn’t you, and he’s your friend too? Tell me five per cent is all you can agree to. It’s not only the customers who do the haggling. You don’t want to be seen as a pushover. But as it happens, I’m serious. I really like it. In fact, though I’d much rather take it with me, I think it’d be a good idea if you leave it where it is with a discrete sold ticket on it. What a great first impression that will make when people arrive.’
Charlie was already writing out a cheque leaning on Holly’s kitchen table, now covered with a blue cloth. She was reduced to eating her meals on her lap in the parlour but it really wasn’t any hardship. Her life with Harry was receding rapidly, like a bad dream that never feels quite so awful when daylight comes.