Clare thought the daffodils at Drumsollen were even lovelier than usual this year. As she stood gazing out of the window of Headquarters, there were not only more of them but they seemed brighter, their colour enhanced by the strong sunlight of a blowy March day. She remembered the year she had sent out the daffodil cards to all their former guests and discovered from their replies that the world had changed. For many of them, horizons had broadened and put air travel within reach. That had meant holidays beyond Ulster, one of the first changes that put their Grand Plan at risk.
She was still standing there thinking how hindsight could so easily point you to what you couldn’t possibly have seen at the time when the phone rang.
‘Joan, how lovely to hear you. Nothing wrong, I hope,’ she said cautiously, well aware that Joan seldom rang and had never yet rung in the morning at peak rate.
‘Well, yes and no, my dear. It’s been a difficult couple of months for your two old crocks. Phillida’s better. A lot better, thank goodness. That chest of hers nearly did for her. It’s all right now, but the leg isn’t. Oh, the consultant says it has healed, but Phillida says it’s had it. She can’t put her weight on it, or if she tries to, it aches horribly. We make a great pair, she and I, so long as we’re sitting down. However . . .’
Clare took a deep breath. Joan’s tone told her she’d not rung to report on their health.
‘Now, dear, I hope this will be good news,’ she said briskly. ‘Philly’s decided to sell up and go into sheltered accommodation. She’s furious, of course, but she’ll get over it. Besides, her cow man Jim is only holding on out of good nature. His wife wants him to retire and if you knew her you’d know he hasn’t got much choice in the matter,’ she added. ‘She’s no idea what the farm’s worth, but she needs a lump sum for her new property and some capital for interest to give her pension a boost. She’s totted it up and it comes to half what you’re getting from Eventide, which sounds like good value to me. What do you think? Would Andrew be interested?’
‘I think that’s something of an understatement,’ Clare said happily. ‘I think he’ll be ecstatic. He’s been so downcast over not being able to find land in North Norfolk even now he has the money to buy it,’ Clare continued. ‘I’ve tried to tell him people don’t make moves this early in the year and that something’s sure to come up after Easter, but he’s been getting terribly despondent.’
‘Well then, tell him he’ll be hearing from Philly’s solicitor in a day or two. At least they can sort it out between them without a fortune in fees. Philly’s man is a distant cousin and they’ve been friends all their lives,’ she added by way of explanation. ‘Must go now, my dear. Give me a ring when you’ve got it sorted. Looking forward to seeing you. Bye.’
Clare looked down at the phone in amazement. Joan had a habit of just disappearing, as if she’d felt her phone was running out, just as it used to when you put pennies into a slot in a public call box.
‘My goodness,’ she said. ‘My goodness,’ she repeated, as she put the receiver down. ‘What an extraordinary surprise.’
She was just about to pick up the phone again and dial Andrew’s number when there was a gentle tap on the door. She opened it and found Bronagh standing there empty-handed.
‘I didn’t think I’d earned my coffee yet,’ she said easily. ‘Come in and sit down.’
‘Clare, I’ve got some news for you,’ Bronagh began awkwardly. ‘You’ve been so good to me, I wanted you to know before anyone else. Matt and I are going to get married. We don’t know when, because I can’t leave the two young ones, but we’ve made up our minds.’
‘Oh Bronagh, what wonderful news. I am so delighted,’ Clare said, getting up and hugging her. ‘Andrew will be so pleased when I tell him. I can tell him, can’t I?’
‘Oh yes,’ she replied, smiling happily. ‘And I am going to tell June. But you first and no one else. We’re not having a ring, because we’re saving up,’ she went on. ‘Matt says there are houses to rent in Railway Street from time to time, which would be near his work. If we could get one of those, then we’d have room for my young brother and sister. He’s been very good about that,’ she confessed.
‘I’m not surprised, Bronagh. He’s a very nice man and he did fall for you in a big way. Whenever I think of him, I remember the stories my mother told about my father, when he had to wait around, because she’d got herself more or less engaged to someone else. He had to be so good until the boyfriend, who was supposed to be sending for her to come to Canada and marry him, turned round and married someone else.’
‘Oh, how awful for her,’ Bronagh said, her eyes wide with sympathy.
‘Yes, she said it was a bad time for her, but it was all for the best,’ Clare replied. ‘She always used to tell me that some good always comes out of disappointments, if only you can see it. Not that I think there’ll be any disappointment where you and Matt are concerned,’ she added, smiling. ‘We must cross our fingers and hope for a house coming up.’
They sat and talked for a little longer. Bronagh explained that Brendan had said he could manage the rent for Callan Street and could support his sister, Anne-Marie, until she went to university. She’d been told she’d almost certainly get a County Scholarship and he’d been earning quite a bit from odd jobs that still gave him time to study. He’d even been giving driving lessons to pupils who had a car of their own, after his success teaching his sister in Clare’s car.
As Bronagh closed the door behind her and Clare dialled Andrew’s number, she made up her mind about one thing. They were not driving from Liverpool to North Norfolk in convoy. If she could possibly afford to give Bronagh her car before she left, she would. One car would be quite enough for a farmer and his wife.
It was a week or more before their excitement died down enough to let them study the details of Phillida’s offer more closely. Initially, Andrew had been concerned that the amount of land involved was simply not enough to support them and that the sum Phillida needed for her plans made it very expensive indeed. On the other hand, it was top quality land which he’d seen. It was in the right place, near to both Joan and Mary and John, which was a marvellous bonus. Documents arrived in stages so it took till the end of April for them to realize how generous Phillida had actually been.
For some time now she’d been working only a quarter of her land. The rest was leased by the year to adjoining farmers, the rents making up part of her income.
‘But it is leased, Clare. Leased,’ said Andrew happily, the documents and maps spread out all over the kitchen table. ‘Not like Drumsollen where the land was sold. Gone beyond retrieving. When I get things going I can simply not renew the leases. It will be my land, whenever I am ready to expand, and we’ll have enough to live on till I’m up and running. It is everything I’ve ever wanted,’ he said, throwing his arms round her. ‘Clare dear, I’m sorry. I said it’s my land. That’s just a manner of speaking. You know I mean it’s our land. You do understand, don’t you?’
Clare laughed. ‘What’s that expression about scratching an Ulsterman and finding a peasant underneath? Land hunger,’ she continued, shaking her head. ‘I’ve no problem with that. I’ll even talk about my house if it makes it easier for you.’
‘It’s a bit run down, Clare, and I think she wants to leave most of the furniture. Will you mind terribly?’
‘Well, it won’t be the first time, will it?’ she came back at him. ‘So long as you don’t forget how to paint when you start talking to your cows,’ she added crisply. ‘We have rather a lot of experience in the refurbishing department.’
‘So shall I sign on the dotted line?’
‘And become Farmer Richardson as opposed to Lord Rothwell?’
‘Point taken,’ he replied soberly. ‘I’d very much like to sign. I have made up my mind but I’m asking if it’s all right with you, because I won’t if you don’t think I should, however much I might want to.’
She picked up his pen and handed it to him.
As Clare and Bronagh drove back through the gates of Drumsollen after the daily sandwich run some two weeks later, a fresh, April day with the trees just beginning to leaf, Bronagh noticed some men in the large field that ran alongside the driveway.
‘What d’you think those men are doing?’ she asked, puzzled. ‘They do look so funny digging with spades in such a big field.’
Clare stopped the car abruptly, got out and looked over the low hedge. Her heart stood still. ‘If they are doing what I think they’re doing, it is really bad news. In fact, quite dreadful news.’
‘Tell me, Clare. Tell me what you mean,’ Bronagh demanded anxiously, as she came to stand beside her.
‘Do you see those little bits of wood they’re sticking in the ground?’ she asked. ‘They’re marking out a building site. The land was sold some time back to a builder, but the Planning Application was turned down. I’ll have to find out what’s going on,’ she said getting back into the car. ‘I’ll drop you at the front and walk back. There must be a hole in the hedge on the main road that we didn’t see.’
‘Yes, there was, but it was only small. I thought maybe a cow had broken out. There were cows in there last week.’
‘No cows now,’ said Clare, distractedly, seeing all the implications printing out in front of her. ‘I’ll go and talk to them and see what I can find out.’
‘No,’ said Bronagh, putting a hand on her arm. ‘Let me go. I’ll get more out of them. In fact, I’m sure I recognize some of the men digging.’
It was quite a long walk down the drive, back along the Loughgall Road and into the field where the men were now running out tape measures, but it felt to Clare as if Bronagh had been gone for hours. Finally, she left Headquarters and went upstairs to the top floor, peered out through the bedroom windows with the best view of the field and the drive. She stood for what seemed a long time but there was no sign of her at all. Going downstairs again, she heard the hall door close. Bronagh was standing outside Headquarters looking pale and anxious.
‘You are quite right,’ she said, shaking her head as Clare came towards her. ‘They were due to begin last month but we had such a lot of rain it was put off. Apparently the forecast is now very good so the bulldozers will be here tomorrow. They’ve taken on men for six months. Those are only a handful for this week. The foreman told me the show house will be ready by June and the rest by September.’ She paused and looked closely at Clare. ‘You’re as white as a sheet. Is there anything I can do? Can I bring you tea, or coffee?’
‘Thanks, Bronagh,’ she said, shaking her head sadly. ‘I think this is almost the worst thing that has ever happened me. Can you see Eventide wanting their “premises” behind a new estate? I’ll have to ring Andrew, but a big mug of tea would help. And thanks for going to talk to the men.’
‘We just mustn’t give up hope,’ Clare said, only hours later, when Andrew, who had come home immediately, held up his hands in despair.
‘I saw the Planning Application when I put in my protest,’ he said, furiously. ‘And I had an acknowledgement when it was turned down. Some one has had a backhander since, I can be sure of that. Brown envelopes all round, Charlie would have said. Clare, what on earth are we going to do?’
‘Well, we’ll have to get Drumsollen on the market quickly. Board, advertising, the whole lot. It won’t sell as a gentleman’s residence, but there may be some commercial use it can be put to, like that castle that makes potato crisps,’ she said quickly, recollecting an article she’d read recently. ‘And we must tell Eventide. They’ll find out anyway, but let’s do the decent thing and save them the trouble.’
John Crawford was very upset when he heard what had happened. He was sure Clare was right, their offer would have to be withdrawn, but he was personally very sorry. It had been a pleasure to work with her. He wanted to know what plans they had and offered his help if there was anything he could possibly do.
But there didn’t seem to be anything anyone could do. The value of Drumsollen was completely compromised by the building site. It was possible they wouldn’t even have an offer at all in the new situation.
Clare rang the Bank Manager, who’d been a good friend for a long time now, then Harry, and then their estate agent. Roy Harkness said he needed to think about it. He’d get back to her. Harry said he had some thoughts. She was to keep her chin up and not let Andrew dig himself into a hole. The estate agent said they’d had one enquiry and they were looking into it.
Every day seemed like a week as she waited for developments. Yet the days flicked off her calendar with alarming rapidity. The contract of sale for the farm had not yet been drawn up, but it soon would be. Unless there was a reliable offer for Drumsollen the purchase would have to be called off. Phillida could not possibly be expected to wait for a sale that might never happen.
‘Clare, Roy here. I have news for you. Not great news, but better perhaps than nothing. I’ve been checking out someone, who must remain nameless, on behalf of your estate agent. He’s proposing to make an offer for Drumsollen, based on the land value.’
‘Land value? What exactly does that mean, Roy?’
‘It means he wants your driveway and the piece of land Drumsollen is built upon. We’re probably looking at demolition of the house itself. How do you feel about that?’
‘Roy, I hate to say this, but at the moment I’m only concerned with an offer. Have you any idea what he has in mind?’
‘If I name a sum I would be breaking confidence, but if I say half of what Eventide offered you, I would not be giving away anything classified, would I?’
‘Bless you, Roy. It’s the nearest thing to good news I’ve had since we saw those men digging holes. Do you think the person offering is reliable?’
‘Now there I can help you. Financially speaking, I only need to say Yes.’
When she told Andrew, he was not encouraged.
‘But, Clare, my darling, even if we do get half of what we expected, enough for the farm, I grant you, we still can’t go ahead. We have the mortgage here to pay off. On top of that there’s the expense of moving and paying someone to help me, at least for a few months. There won’t be any money coming in and I expect there are other small matters like the fact we might need to eat, or put petrol in the car. Even if the mortgage dissolved overnight, we will have no money at all.
‘There is a little money from the leased land,’ she said, matter-of-factly. ‘That would keep us fed. The mortgage is the problem, I agree. We can’t carry debt with no income.’
‘So near and yet so far, Clare. Within jumping distance of the promised land, to coin a phrase. I can’t see any way forward, can you?’
‘Well, yes. I do see just one possibility.’
‘You’re going to sell your tiara? Sorry,’ he said quickly, as he caught sight of her expression. ‘I’m always flippant when I feel defeated. I apologize and will not do it again.’
‘Good. We need all the cool we can manage,’ she said quietly. ‘As I said, I do see one possibility. I’ve been talking to Harry and he thinks we don’t realize how the antiques market has taken off since he sold pictures for you six or seven years ago. Even the modest end of the market, bits and pieces of silver, real linen sheets, things we take for granted, get surprising prices at auction. He’s coming up tomorrow to look into every corner and see what we might really be worth. He says we must not let this chance go. We have to grab it, even if he has to bail us out himself.’
‘He said that, did he?’ Andrew asked, looking round the room awkwardly.
‘Yes, he did,’ she replied. ‘And he meant it.’
‘Well that’s it then, my friends, I’ll stake my reputation on these reserve prices. Will that do? Do you think that will be enough?’
‘Harry dear, not only would that clear the mortgage we’d actually be left with some cash in the bank. But are you really that sure the stuff will sell?’ Clare asked, caution returning the moment she’d calculated the effect of the encouraging figure Harry had just shown them.
‘I intend to make sure that it will,’ he replied, firmly. ‘Firstly, we go for auction. I know the best people to set that up. They do usually charge a fee, but they owe me some favours, so they may waive it. I then intend to circulate all my best customers and tip them the wink that this is one auction they must not miss. That’ll bring them out of the woodwork, if they think there’s money to be made, or items and examples to add to their collections. You’d be amazed what some of these people collect,’ he went on, cheeringly. ‘Now will you go ahead and sign the contract for the farm?’
‘Yes,’ they said, both at the same time. ‘Yes, we will.’