Annie stood outside the main entrance to the hospital, surprised at how cold she suddenly felt. She had left the Hall in such a rush that morning that she hadn’t brought any kind of cardigan or coat with her. Now that the sun had sunk below the horizon, there was a distinct chill in the air, as if autumn were keen to push summer away for good.
She held the mobile in the crook of her neck as she rang her best friend.
‘Well?’ said Megan, answering the phone almost immediately. ‘How is he?’
‘Broken leg,’ Annie told her as she dug around inside her handbag for her purse. ‘They’re talking about putting pins in. He’s having the operation now.’
Megan blew out a sigh of relief. ‘OK. Well, at least broken bones can be mended even at his age. That’s sort of good news.’
‘You should see him though. He’s going to be black and blue from all the bruising.’ Annie’s hand faltered on its search. ‘Possible small stroke as well,’ she added, blinking back yet more tears.
‘Oh no. Poor Arthur,’ said Megan after a pause. ‘When will they know? Hang on a minute.’ Her voice became muffled but her words were still clear. ‘I’m on the phone! I will get you a drink in a minute! Stop drawing on your little sister!’
During the ensuing family mayhem on the other end of the line, Annie finally located her purse and realised that she had barely enough money for a bus fare home, let alone a taxi. As she had arrived in the ambulance with Arthur, the car was stuck back at Willow Tree Hall. There was a cash machine nearby but her credit card was maxed out and she had no money in her main bank account either. It had all been used up in recent months.
‘Sorry about that,’ said Megan, coming back onto the line. ‘Normal state of affairs here, whatever normal counts as these days.’ Megan was mother to three children under the age of six with the busy life to match. But she always found time for Annie. ‘So what happens now? How quickly can he come home?’
‘After his operation, you mean? I’m not sure,’ said Annie, frowning. ‘His eldest grandson’s just arrived and has taken over.’
‘Blimey! The famous Samuel! I never got to meet him. What’s he like?’
Hot, was Annie’s first unwelcome thought.
‘Bossy,’ she said aloud, before biting her lip. ‘You don’t think he’ll find out, do you? About me, I mean.’
‘Of course not,’ Megan told her. ‘Why would he? From what I’ve heard, he never sticks around for long and then, once Arthur’s home, we can carry on as before.’
Megan was a part-time maid at Willow Tree Hall twice a week and Annie had got the job as housekeeper on her recommendation. They had been best friends throughout their childhood, along with another local girl Eleanor. The three of them had remained close over the years, despite only Megan remaining in the village after they had finished school. Eleanor had moved to London after college but she and Annie had returned to Cranley to meet up a couple of times a year and they were always texting each other.
‘Wait a minute.’ Megan’s voice trailed off.
‘What’s up?’
‘It’s gone quiet. That’s never a good sign.’ Megan sighed. ‘They were so lovely as babies. Absolute angels.’
‘What happened?’ asked Annie, fully aware of her friend’s daily battles with being a good parent.
‘They became toddlers, unfortunately. I’d better go. Keep me posted.’
‘I’ll text you later. Bye.’ Annie hung up before allowing herself a shiver. She was feeling really cold now and needed to get moving.
‘Excuse me, do you know where the nearest bus stop is?’ she asked an elderly couple who had just come through the exit doors.
‘No need,’ said Sam, suddenly appearing next to her. ‘I’ll drop you home.’
That was the last thing she wanted. ‘It’s fine,’ she tried to tell him but he strode off towards the car park, obviously expecting her to follow him.
Annie groaned under her breath as she trailed behind. She hadn’t anticipated much from Arthur’s absent grandson and he was definitely exceeding her low expectations. In the hour since they had met, she had caught him looking at her with disdain on quite a few occasions.
She frowned at his broad back. He was, she had to admit again, somewhat begrudgingly, good looking. If only grumpy and patronising men who didn’t look out for their grandfather were her type, she thought. But she knew her own type. Wild. Reckless. Nothing like rich, spoilt Sam who was scowling at her as he held open the passenger door of a very flash-looking sports car.
‘Thank you, er, Mr, er, Harris,’ she said, her voice trailing off in confusion.
‘You may call me Sam,’ he told her before walking around to the driver’s side.
He was so pompous, she thought, settling inside. But at least it would be warm in the car and a free ride home. The overnight rain and clouds had all disappeared, leaving behind a clear evening. The weather forecasters were already predicting a bitterly cold winter in the forthcoming months. Although perhaps not as icy as the atmosphere inside the beautifully expensive car she found herself in. With any conversation non-existent, the only sound was of her shifting awkwardly in the leather seat.
She half-expected Sam to say something when they eventually drove through the outskirts of Cranley but he remained silent.
They turned a corner and began to drive down the main street. Cranley was so small a place that it would be easy to miss on a map. It wasn’t even a village, merely a tiny hamlet in the middle of the green English countryside. The high street had a couple of shops on one side and the small infants’ school on the other. A modest supermarket was the place to pick up a pint of milk and the latest gossip.
Cranley also had just enough room for the village green, a triangle of grass on which the last cricket match of the season had just been played the previous weekend. On one side of the green, next to the dilapidated cricket hut, was the village’s only pub. On the opposite side was the stone-clad church which would just about hold the village’s sixty residents, if you all squeezed in very tightly.
Once past the village green, Annie looked out of the window as they drove past the long row of terraced cottages that lined Yew Tree Lane. All the houses in Cranley were built in the same warm, sandy-coloured brick as Willow Tree Hall. They also had sash windows and were identical in their quaint prettiness. Only the brightly coloured front doors distinguished one cottage from the next.
As the sky began to darken, lights were beginning to be switched on inside, making them seem cosy and inviting.
As always, she caught her breath as No. 24, the house on the end of the row, came into view. It looked exactly the same as when she had been growing up. Nothing had changed, including the red front door. The ancient apple tree remained standing in the large front garden. It even still had that huge branch from which her father had hung a home-made swing for her to play on.
Except, of course, everything had changed. For a start, her family no longer lived there, she thought as the house moved out of view.
‘I always forget how small it is,’ she heard Sam mutter to himself.
Annie immediately felt defensive of her beautiful home village. ‘Actually we’re up to a population of sixty-one people now that Rachel Smith has had her baby.’
Sam turned to raise one eyebrow at her in what she suspected was sarcasm but he said nothing. She was somewhat surprised to realise that he shared the same bright blue eyes as his grandfather. But they were obviously light years apart in terms of their love of Cranley as Arthur was born and bred in the village. He knew every one of his tenants by first name and took great pride in the closeness of the community.
Sam turned the car sharply off the lane, driving past the rusty wrought-iron gates that marked the beginning of the long driveway up to the Hall.
Dusk was falling over the wide fields on either side of the single lane. Annie noticed that a few of the leaves on the many trees and large shrubs which hugged the boundary of the estate were already tinged with yellow, indicating that summer was definitely at an end. That included the huge weeping willow in the middle of the front lawn after which the house had been named. Its elegant fingers of leaves were also beginning to transform from green to a more autumnal yellow, shifting in a gentle breeze as if waving their greeting.
Then Willow Tree Hall came into view. It could still take Annie’s breath away, even though she saw it each and every single day.
Thankfully Sam had slowed the low-slung sports car right down to avoid the huge potholes that dotted the surface of the driveway so she had time to study the large, sandy-coloured stone building.
Built in the Georgian era, it was only two stories high but stretched wide instead. She had always thought it looked like a miniature version of Buckingham Palace. Annie counted sixteen sash windows spread evenly across the pale brick front. The centrepiece was a huge double front door, framed by tall pillars of the same warm-coloured stone. It certainly looked magnificent even in the darkening light.
But even as the light faded, she could still see that it was in desperate need of renovation. Many of the window frames were rotten. The chimney stacks on the roof were leaning at an alarming angle amongst the numerous holes where so many roof tiles were missing. The holes through which the rain had fallen the previous night with such devastating effect, she thought feeling miserable and guilty once more.
‘So,’ began Sam.
But Annie never found out what he was about to say as a massive clang rang out from beneath them at the same time as they ran over a deep crater in the driveway. There was a horrendous grinding noise before the car seemed to dip down before veering off sharply to the right.
Sam slammed on the brakes before they both quickly got out and looked down at the car. Annie saw that it only had three wheels facing the right way. The fourth tyre looked at an alarming angle, having been almost sheared off by a huge pothole a few yards back.
Sam swore under his breath before saying, ‘So much for my quick visit.’
He seemed as unhappy about this news as Annie felt. She didn’t want this haughty man hanging around her home any longer than necessary. She wanted him to go back to wherever he had come from and let them get on with their quiet lives.
But it wasn’t just her home, was it? He was Arthur’s grandson and had a right to be there as well. Even more so than she did, however, it was very odd that the Earl himself hadn’t wanted to talk to his grandson at the hospital. Arthur was normally so personable and friendly. She wondered what had happened between them in the past.
Annie decided that Sam was obviously a troublemaker and she knew enough about bad boys to be extremely wary of him.
Hopefully the car would be easily mended and then he would be on his way before she ever got to find out the reason behind their disagreement.
*
Sam began to feel a stranglehold around his throat as he stood in front of the grand manor house.
I don’t want to be here, he thought as he finished his conversation on his mobile. He felt like lobbing the damn thing out of sight over the huge grounds in frustration.
He had only been supposed to drop Annie back and see his aunt quickly before getting out of there. But the mechanic was going to take at least an hour before arriving to look at his car. He was stuck and would just have to wait out the next sixty minutes.
He was somewhat relieved when Annie left and he watched her walk around the side of the house, presumably to use the back door. It had always been used by their staff and tradesman as long as he could remember. At least she didn’t have the gall to march through the front door. Yet, he added to himself with a scowl.
Of course, when he had been growing up, there had been an elderly butler to open the front door for the family. But he had retired a few years ago and had never been replaced.
Sam glanced down at his mobile, the bright screen shone out in the dusky twilight. Apparently he had 43 unread emails, 37 unread text messages and 14 missed calls. He sighed and stared out across the darkening fields at the front of the estate. When had life become so demanding?
Sam couldn’t remember the last time he had spent a weekend in his own flat in London. He glanced down at his suit and shirt. Or recall when he had last worn his favourite T-shirt and jeans either.
And he couldn’t even go home to change yet, he thought, slowly turning around to look up at Willow Tree Hall in front of him. Dusk had fallen and Annie had begun to switch on some lights in the entrance hall, illuminating the house from inside.
He absolutely did not want to go inside. But the memories were forcing themselves into the front of his mind, flooding it with pictures of happier times. It all seemed a very long time ago now.
The front door suddenly opened and the petite figure of his aunt appeared in the doorway, framed by the light behind her.
‘Samuel?’ called out Rose, hugging her cardigan around her against the chill of the dropping temperature. ‘Is that you?’
‘Hi Aunty,’ he replied, heading towards her.
As he drew her into a hug, he was shocked at how awful she looked. His Aunt Rose was a strong woman with a huge personality and an incredible sense of style. This was in sharp contrast to the pensioner in drab clothes whom he was holding in his arms. What had been going on in the past year when he’d been away?
‘Annie’s just updated me,’ she said in a tremulous voice against his chest. ‘Poor Arthur.’
‘He’s going to be fine,’ Sam told her, leaning back to look down into her face. ‘He’ll be back home before you know it.’
She nodded as if desperately trying to believe him but her hazel eyes were anxious and teary. He noted that she had let her brown hair go completely grey, despite always declaring that she never would. Hopefully, her pale face was just down to the shock of her brother’s accident.
‘Is there any update?’ she asked.
He shook his head. ‘It’s still a bit early. He’ll still be in theatre. Don’t worry. They’re going to call as soon as the operation’s over.’
‘Come on then,’ she said with a sigh, turning away to head inside. ‘It’s too cold to stand out here.’
He absolutely did not want to follow her inside. But he had to admit that there was a tiny part of him that wanted to revisit the place. Perhaps it would be easier without his grandfather frowning at him in disappointment at every turn.
He stepped over the threshold and turned to pull the front door shut behind him. To his surprise, this was harder than he had first thought as the hinges appeared to have rusted. Finally, with a hard pull, the door groaned to a close.
He turned to stare around the vast entrance hall, the memories rushing over him before he could prevent them. He could suddenly see himself and Will sliding down the oak bannister that wrapped around the huge staircase curving its way up to the first floor. The massive Christmas tree that seemed to fill the whole place when he had been young and their parents were still alive. The chatter and laughter of the whole family as they opened the presents that had been spread out beneath.
His Aunt’s voice brought him back to the present day. ‘I’ll make us a nice cup of tea,’ she said, walking slowly towards the kitchen.
Annie had been flicking through the envelopes on the small nearby table but looked up as Rose went by. ‘Do you want me to make it?’ she called out.
‘No, love,’ said Rose, continuing her journey. ‘It’ll give me something to do. I can’t settle until I know Arthur’s OK.’
Sam was shocked once more by how subdued his aunt was, when she was normally so colourful and full of life. She was obviously upset and concerned for her brother but he had a feeling that her general malaise wasn’t just limited to that particular day.
His gaze moved to Annie who was continuing to look through the pile of post she was holding. What had his brother said about her great legs? They were encased in slim-fitting jeans which helped show off their length. But the denim had worn away in places and her grubby Converse trainers also looked as if they needed replacing. She was far too casual, too young, too attractive to be his grandfather’s housekeeper, he decided.
He realised that she had pulled on a red sweatshirt at some point and he now noticed that she had good reason to. It wasn’t much warmer inside the house than it had been outside in the fresh air.
He walked forward, trying not to let the familiar feelings of guilt and regret overwhelm him along with the past. But as he moved, he realised that all wasn’t as it had always been inside. The wallpaper was curling up at both the top and bottom of the wall by the front door and the paint was cracked and peeling everywhere. It also smelt mouldy and damp. Something was seriously awry.
‘Is the whole place like this?’ he asked aloud.
Annie looked up at him briefly before looking away. ‘Like what?’ Her tone of voice was casual but he knew that she understood.
‘You’d better show me the rest of the house,’ he barked at her.
She put her hands on her hips. ‘I assume you know your way around by now,’ she told him shortly.
He raised his eyebrows at her in surprise at her rude tone. ‘I also want to hear your professional opinion on the place that you’re paid to look after,’ he said.
He watched her eyes widen in alarm. Something was definitely amiss. His initial instinct not to trust her might have been the correct one, he realised.
‘Perhaps I have better things to do right now,’ she finally managed to splutter.
‘No, you don’t,’ he replied, even more concerned about her role in the household now that she appeared so defiant towards him. She appeared very much at home considering it had only been a short time since she had arrived. Things had definitely changed since he’d been away.
With a sigh, she reluctantly put the envelopes down onto the sideboard.
Sam didn’t care. He didn’t need her stroppy attitude at that moment. He needed the truth as to why the entrance hall appeared to be in such bad condition.
Surely the rest of the house would be OK.