Sam stared around the ground floor of Willow Tree Hall with wide eyes. He had assumed Annie had been exaggerating about the state of the place but obviously he was wrong.
Not that he would admit that to her. ‘It’s not that bad,’ he lied.
‘No, it’s not,’ she replied.
Sam turned to her in stunned amazement that they were in agreement for once.
But then she carried on. ‘In fact, House Beautiful want to do a full-page spread on us this weekend. Photos and everything.’
He dismissed her sarcasm and tried to focus on the mess in front of them. ‘Where is everything?’ he asked, looking at the furniture covered with dust sheets. But every ornament and picture frame was missing.
‘Relax,’ replied Annie, pulling a sheet over an exposed corner of the sideboard. ‘I haven’t sold it all. We’ve boxed everything up and put it in the garage for safekeeping. Otherwise you’d have no inheritance apart from the walls. What’s left of them, that is.’
Sam turned to look at the back wall of the room where most of the plaster had fallen off onto the floorboards. ‘Apparently, you’ve got to get down to the brick in order to start again.’
‘Really?’ Annie’s voice was dripping with derision.
‘That’s what Kevin says,’ he replied, before realising how weak that sounded.
‘Kevin says a lot of things,’ she said, shaking her head before walking out of the room.
Sam stood in silence for a minute before bringing out his phone to call Will.
‘Look, I think we’re out of our depth here,’ he told his brother. ‘I haven’t got time to project manage all this. Are you able to keep an eye on things for the next week or two?’
‘A bit hard when I’m still in the French Alps,’ drawled Will.
‘I thought you were coming home soon.’
‘I’m up to my eyes in legal paperwork and planning applications. What about you?’
‘Another day, another tour,’ said Sam, feeling weary.
‘So when the builders have actually finished, what are your plans for decoration?’ asked Will.
Sam frowned. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I know it’s a bit optimistic but it’s just that I’m currently in the middle of choosing my own high-end finishing touches. What can you do with a stately home? You know, you can’t just paint the whole lot in magnolia when you’re done. Grandad will have a fit.’
Sam sighed. ‘I don’t know. Anyway, I think we’re a long way away from worrying about curtains at the moment.’
‘I realise that,’ Will told him, ‘but I think Alex is around this week. How about I send him down to see you this weekend before you head off again?’
Alex was Will’s best friend whom they had both known since their schooldays. He had branched out recently into interior decorating and was apparently quite good at it.
‘He’s got a good eye for these kind of things,’ carried on Will. ‘And he knows Willow Tree Hall. He stayed with us loads of times when we were young. Plus he’s done a cracking job with all of my places so far.’
‘We certainly could do with all the help we can get at the minute,’ said Sam, reluctantly agreeing to the meeting before hanging up.
As he wandered out into the entrance hall, he was besieged by the noise and mess once more. He silently admired Annie for putting up with it every day. But no wonder Aunt Rose had moved out temporarily.
Later on that afternoon, a long time after the builders had left on the dot of four o’clock, Sam found Annie washing up in the kitchen. The room was becoming darker as the sun set.
He flicked the switch for the overhead light. But rather than bursting into illumination, the wall socket gave out a small ‘bang’ and the plastic switch shot across the room.
‘It’s going well, don’t you think?’ he said, feeling slightly hysterical about what had just happened.
‘There isn’t any hot water either,’ she said, holding her hand out under the running tap.
Sam found himself wanting to laugh. ‘You still think this is the best place to live?’ he said, unable to hide the amusement in his voice.
But Annie obviously found no humour in the situation. ‘You just don’t get it, do you? Look around you! They’re destroying everything. Arthur would be so upset if he saw it like this.’
He narrowed his eyes. ‘You can’t say anything to him.’ Especially when his recovery was going so well. According to his aunt, Arthur was already up and on a walking frame making steady, if slow, progress with his mobility.
‘I know that,’ she snapped. ‘I wouldn’t do anything to hurt him.’
He suddenly felt cross. Was she insinuating that he would hurt his own grandad?
‘This really has nothing to do with you,’ he told her.
‘This has everything to do with me,’ she said, flinging down the last of the mugs into the sink with a clatter.
‘I haven’t a clue why it should. It’s not your home and anyway look at it!’ Sam waved his arm around. ‘It’s like living in a bloody museum, albeit one that’s falling down around you.’
‘Well, seeing as you don’t actually live here, it shouldn’t bother you so much.’
‘Leave my family alone,’ he said, fiercely.
She put her hands on her hips. ‘These people are my family!’
‘Well, go and find your own,’ he snapped back.
‘They don’t want me!’ she shouted.
For a second, Annie stared at him, still breathless from her anger. Then she turned and rushed out of the room, obviously upset.
Sam groaned at his own stupidity. He had sounded so childish. Even worse, he had definitely hurt Annie.
He found her five minutes later in the drawing room, on her knees in front of the fireplace. She struck a match and lit the kindling before sitting back on the floor, curling her arms around her legs. With all the furniture covered in sheets, she opted to sit on a dusty, threadbare rug instead.
He went to speak but she beat him to it.
‘Why do you think so little of me?’ she whispered, watching the flames. ‘What have I done to you that could possibly make you hate me so much?’
Her words hit him hard in the stomach. ‘You’ve done nothing at all,’ he said, crouching down beside her. ‘It’s me. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said just now.’
‘That’s OK.’
But Annie’s voice was small and he knew it wasn’t.
He sighed and settled down on the floor next to her.
She remained silent whilst they both watched the flames begin to rise. Eventually the couple of logs began to spit and crackle as the heat began to spread out of the fireplace.
‘I guess I’m jealous,’ Sam eventually found himself saying.
Annie finally turned her head to look at him. ‘Of what?’
‘Of the way my grandad feels about you. The ease at which you get on with everyone. All of it.’
She looked surprised. ‘I don’t think anybody’s ever felt jealous of me before. Nobody’s ever cared enough to take any notice of me.’
Sam tried not to stare but he could feel the sorrow seeping out of her. He shouldn’t have upset her and tried to think of something to say. But he couldn’t get away from her comment about families.
‘Where did your family move to when your mum remarried?’
‘Everywhere.’ She gave a humourless smile. ‘My stepdad never could keep a job for very long. He’s not what you would call very pleasant to work with.’ Under her breath, she added, ‘Or to live with.’
He wondered how bad things had been for her but didn’t want to upset her further by asking more questions.
Annie suddenly looked across at him. ‘Do you know how lucky you are to have a brother, grandfather and aunt that love you? To have people that want you in their lives and how sad it makes them that you stay away? Do you know how much some people dream of having that kind of love in their lives?’
He tried to take her words in but was overwhelmed by the sadness in her eyes. He had a sudden desire to take her into his arms and keep her safe forever. He leant forward to stoke the fire with the poker, feeling the need to do anything to distract his straying thoughts.
‘Your grandfather is a proud man so he was never going to ask for help,’ she told him. ‘I know you don’t trust me but you should trust how he feels about you. Stay here.’
She stood up and quickly left the room. Sam was wondering whether to follow her but she returned shortly carrying a scrapbook.
‘I found this when I was packing up the study,’ she said, holding it out for him. ‘It was hidden in the bookshelves.’
Sam’s mind was racing as he took it from her. What could it be? Family secrets? Yet more debts to be paid? But the last thing he had expected it to be was full of newspaper clippings about him.
He flicked through the pages before looking up at Annie. ‘He did all this?’
She nodded. ‘He’s proud of what you’ve done with your career.’
Sam felt stunned. Everything he thought he knew was completely wrong. He had always assumed that his grandfather had hated his choice of career. That he was embarrassed by Sam’s connection to the music industry. And yet, here was the proof that turned everything on its head. If only they had talked things through.
Sam felt ashamed. ‘I’ve let him down so badly. I’m such an idiot,’ he added with a groan. ‘I should have been here and not let things get so out of hand.’
‘Well, you’re here now,’ she said softly.
He nodded. ‘We’ll get it sorted,’ he told her. ‘Together, I hope.’
She turned to face him, her huge eyes studying him as if trying to believe him.
The trouble was, he wasn’t so sure he even believed it himself.
*
Annie had a frying pan and she wasn’t afraid to use it.
After growing up in the countryside, she knew she should be used to various animal intruders by now. But upon coming face to face with a large brown mouse in the middle of the kitchen floor, she still gave a girly shriek and jumped up onto a chair.
She grabbed the nearest thing to hand, which was the cast-iron pan on top of the Aga, and spun round, holding it high above her long hair.
Sam rushed into the kitchen. ‘What on earth’s the matter?’ he asked, still breathless from running down the corridor at the sound of screaming.
‘It’s a mouse,’ she told him, spinning round on the chair to show him where.
But at that moment, the ancient wooden chair gave an ominous creak and one of its legs snapped.
Annie found herself falling to the ground. Braced for impact against a hard, tiled floor, instead she fell on top of warm, soft Sam who had reached out to catch her.
For a moment they were a tangle of limbs on the ground, the only sound the clang of the pan hitting the tiles.
‘Are you OK?’ he asked, his face unexpectedly close to hers.
‘I think so,’ she replied, finding his aftershave invading her senses and making her dizzy. ‘Are you?’
‘That’ll serve me right for trying to be a hero,’ he told her, struggling up to a sitting position and rubbing his elbow.
As Annie sat up, she spotted the mouse sprinting across the uneven floor before diving into one of the many holes in the broken tiles and disappearing from sight.
‘I thought you were a country girl,’ said Sam, still holding his elbow.
‘I had a break for about ten years,’ she said, standing up.
‘Not in the countryside?’
She thought of the endless oceans she had sailed across. ‘No. I think we’ve got some arnica somewhere if you’ve bruised your elbow.’
‘I’ll live.’ Sam stood up and went across the room to pick up the kettle. ‘I hear coffee’s good for shock anyway,’ he said, heading across to fill it up from the tap. But nothing came out when he turned the tap.
‘I thought it was just the hot water that wasn’t working?’
‘I forgot to tell you,’ she told him. ‘There’s no water at all in the kitchen now. Apparently it’s a luxury that we can do without for the time being. So I’ve been told.’
Sam ran his hand through his hair. ‘Right,’ he said, with a frown. ‘I see.’
‘Thankfully the washing machine in the utility room is still working,’ she added. ‘For now.’
‘Great,’ said Sam, looking up at her. ‘I hate to ask you when there’s so much else going on but are you able to do some washing for me this morning? I’m getting a bit low on clothes and won’t have time to get back to my flat as I’ve only got a quick turnaround before I head to the airport in a couple of days.’
‘Of course,’ said Annie. ‘No problem.’
She could handle the ancient washing machine. It just needed a bit of a kick to get it going sometimes but it would be fine.
Or so she thought.
Except when she drew out the wet clothes later that morning, she realised that his black jumper was looking somewhat smaller than she remembered. She pulled at each sleeve, willing them to grow longer but to no avail. It was only when she checked the label and saw that as it was cashmere and should have been gently hand-washed, that she groaned.
She was the worst housekeeper in the world. She couldn’t even do a load of washing properly. Thankfully she was able to pass it off as machine error.
‘It’s such an ancient thing, I’m afraid,’ she said, showing the shrunken jumper to Sam. ‘It’s ruined so many clothes.’
Except it hadn’t, because neither she nor Arthur had ever worn cashmere.
Sam shrugged his shoulders. ‘Oh well. You’d better throw it out. I’ve got plenty more somewhere. No worries.’
Annie was relieved but more than a little surprised at his response. Wanting to take advantage of his good mood, she asked, ‘Could you have a look at Arthur’s paperwork at some point? I’m sure there’re some bills that need paying but I can’t make head nor tail of his system. And I thought you might want to look at the financial stuff yourself before I pack it away for safekeeping.’
‘Sure,’ he said, breaking into a smile which made him look far younger and more attractive. ‘Contracts and paperwork I can handle.’
Annie was finding the new, improved, agreeable Sam even more unsettling than the grumpy version she had originally encountered.
*
Wandering into the study, Sam found himself feeling a little more cheerful that morning. For some reason, the slight bruising on his arm when Annie had fallen on him made him feel happier rather than cross at that particular memory.
But after an hour of ploughing through all the papers on Arthur’s desk, he was despondent once more. The finances were in a far worse state than he could have imagined. The house had enormous overheads, most especially from its dilapidated state. But even when renovated, there was still the most pressing problem of the estate having no income. The bills would continue to be huge and the debts would keep racking up. And of course there was the matter of the renovations that would need settling first, even though Kevin had yet to send him any update of the ongoing repairs.
He briefly considered opening up the hall to the paying public before dismissing the idea. His grandfather would never agree to it. Besides, he himself hated the idea of strangers spying around their home. And that was the problem; it was a home not a business.
He wondered about the books in the library. Maybe he could sell some of the first editions. But not the children’s books, he found himself thinking. His parents had read many of the stories aloud to him and his brother. And so had his grandad, he remembered. He had forgotten but now he had a vivid memory of Arthur reading The Jungle Book aloud to him, along with all the different voices for the characters. As he had apparently read to his own son thirty years previously.
Sam suddenly realised he had been so lost in his own grief of losing his parents that he had never thought about everyone else’s loss. Had his grandfather grieved for his son? Of course he must have. But he hadn’t shown it. Too busy bringing up two teenage boys and trying to keep Willow Tree Hall afloat.
And then he’d lost his own wife. Will and Sam were all he had now, apart from Rose.
Surely they could be a family once more? But how?
He looked back down at the papers in front of him. Willow Tree Hall was sinking fast and he had no idea how to save it.
The door to the study opened and his Aunt Rose appeared, holding a hot mug of tea.
‘Here you are,’ she said with a warm smile. ‘I just popped in for a gossip with Annie and heard you were in here. Tea makes everything better.’
He sighed, looking across the endless figures on the scattered papers in front of him. ‘You know, some people rent out their place to bring in some money.’
Rose frowned. ‘I’m not sure we want some drunk businessmen staggering around the place.’
‘I mean for as a setting for fashion shoots or even television sets.’
‘Or movies?’ Rose brightened up. ‘I wouldn’t say no to Tom Hiddleston turning up on my doorstep. Or in my bedroom either. But I’m not sure Arthur would want strangers tramping over the house.’
‘You think we should just carry on in a cheerful state of bankruptcy?’ asked Sam, trying to keep his tone light so his Aunt didn’t get upset.
Rose gave him a smile and a reassuring pat on the hand. ‘I wouldn't worry, darling. I’m sure prosperity's just around the corner.’
Sam grimaced. ‘I wish I knew which corner it was hiding behind,’ he replied, as she left the room.
An hour later, there was a gentle knock on the door of the study before Annie came in.
Sam felt pleased to see her. ‘I wanted to pick your brains about something,’ he began before realising she wasn’t listening.
Annie peered back out towards the entrance hall before turning to face him once more. ‘You have a visitor,’ she told him in a stilted tone.
Sam frowned. ‘I do?’
Annie nodded, just as he heard a chorus of wolf whistles ring out from nearby.
Swiftly getting up, Sam followed her into the entrance hall and found Cassandra surrounded by a group of adoring builders.
‘Baby!’ she cried, giving him a teasing wave before going back to signing autographs on pieces of paper and, lastly, on a plumber’s broad hairy chest.
Like the superstar that she was, she took it all in her stride. He noted with a frown that she was wearing what looked like a real fur coat. She had only recently shot an ad for PETA and had sworn blind in an interview that she was vegetarian. A fact he knew was untrue as she had a penchant for Big Macs, although her skinny figure didn’t show this.
He was somewhat surprised to see her. He was pretty certain she hadn’t told him that she was coming to visit the hall. It should have been a nice surprise but he would have liked Cassandra to have checked with him first, especially given the current state of the place.
Finally, she broke through the crowd and tottered over to him in her high heels before wrapping her arms around his neck. ‘Surprise,’ she murmured against his lips.
‘It certainly is,’ he replied, enjoying the rare show of affection. Perhaps he had missed her more than he had realised.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Annie who quickly looked away from their embrace. Her jeans and baggy sweater were in marked contrast to the glamorous singer in his arms. She was also looking dusty, as was he, presumably.
‘Cassie,’ he said, removing the hands that were still around his neck. ‘This is my grandfather’s housekeeper, Annie.’
Cassandra turned her head and snapped, ‘Lemon tea. No sugar,’ over her shoulder before snuggling back against Sam.
He grimaced at the harsh tone that she had always used with staff. He knew it was just another example of her lack of confidence in herself but he braced himself for an almighty row anyway. But, to his surprise, Annie nodded before walking away towards the kitchen.
Perhaps she was a secret fan of Cassandra’s music.
*
What an absolute bitch, thought Annie, flinging a teaspoon onto the work surface as the kettle boiled. What did she think she looked like, swanning into the middle of a building site in a white fur coat? She looked like a polar bear had wandered into the middle of a coal mine. Not that any of the builders had noticed. They were too busy cosying up to the famous popstar.
Annie glanced down at her own clothes, feeling very shabby. She was wearing her most faded jeans and oldest jumper. But as she was covered in dust and dirt most days, there had been no need in recent weeks to wear anything nice. Of course, she hadn’t expected to be standing next to an international singing superstar, had she?
Why on earth hadn’t Sam warned her that she was coming?
She had to admit, they made quite a handsome couple. Well, perhaps not Cassandra. She looked like a lollipop with hair. But his good looks definitely matched hers, if not surpassed them.
Then she felt cross with herself for even thinking such a thought.
At the sound of approaching steps, she turned back to making the cup of tea.
‘I think it’s lovely,’ said the female voice with a strong American accent. ‘It needs major work, of course. You’re going to add a swimming pool and spa, aren’t you?’
Annie turned slowly to raise her eyebrows at Sam as they came into the kitchen.
‘We haven’t got as far as planning the outdoor space yet,’ he replied, avoiding all eye contact with both of them and finding something fascinating about the floor tiles at that moment.
‘We can turn one of the larger bedrooms into my walk-in closet,’ carried on Cassandra.
Oh God, thought Annie. She was moving in? And so was Sam? What would Arthur make of that?
‘Here’s your drink,’ said Annie, aware that her voice was sounding sulky as she handed over the cup. ‘We’re out of lemons so I made you a normal tea.’
Cassandra looked horrified and put down the china cup as if it were about to detonate. ‘I never have dairy! It completely bloats me out,’ she snapped before staring at Annie wide-eyed. ‘Do I know you?’
Annie shook her head. ‘No.’
‘Are you sure? I never forget a face.’
Annie had actually met Cassandra once in the early days before she had hit the big time. The singer had been on board one of the more glamorous cruise ships as a performer and had been overbearing and rude to everyone even back then. But Annie had only been cabin staff and had assumed she would have been below the diva’s radar.
Now Sam was looking at her closely as well and Annie could feel the panic begin to rise up inside her.
‘Excuse me,’ called out Megan, appearing at the doorway. ‘The press have arrived and they want a word with Cassandra.’
Sam looked surprised. ‘How did they know you were here?’ he asked.
Cassandra fluffed up her hair. ‘Ed, my manager, must have given them a little call, baby. He thinks the whole earl thing will be great publicity for my new album. All publicity is good publicity, yeah?’
She tottered out, with a frowning Sam following a few steps behind.
Megan rolled her eyes once they had gone but her grin faded as she looked at her friend. ‘What’s the matter?’
‘She recognised me,’ whispered Annie, still horrified.
‘Of course she didn’t,’ said Megan, laughing. ‘There’s only one person that Cassandra is interested in and that is Cassandra. You can tell that a mile off. Keep calm.’
‘You can keep calm if you want,’ said Annie, pacing up and down. ‘I’m freaking out and intend to carry on doing so for a few more hours.’
‘Can you put the kettle on whilst you are?’ replied Megan. ‘This celebrity lark is thirsty work.’
*
To get away from Cassandra, Annie escaped Willow Tree Hall early in the afternoon to visit Arthur in hospital.
To her surprise, he met her in the corridor, propped up on his walking frame.
‘You’re doing so well,’ she told him as he walked slowly back into his room.
‘So why can’t I come home?’ he moaned. ‘Why do I have to go into a, what do you call it, rehab place?’
It appeared that Arthur had finally been told of his grandson’s plans to place him in a local nursing home that specialised in short-term rehabilitation whilst he continued to recover.
Annie sighed. ‘There’re a lot of builders in the house at the moment trying to make it safe for you,’ she told him. ‘You’ll trip over their tool boxes and break your other leg if you go back there. You’re safer in here at the moment.’
Arthur sat down onto the chair by his bed and grimaced. ‘Builders!’ he muttered. ‘What’s taking them so long?’
‘There’s a lot to do,’ she said. ‘You know all the things that Sam has hired them to do.’
Arthur rolled his eyes. ‘We were doing just fine before all of this mess was created,’ he said.
But Annie knew he was lying to both of them. ‘It’s going really well,’ she told him in a forced cheerful tone.
Using her iPhone she was able to show him a couple of strategically placed photos that didn’t highlight the further mess and destruction that had taken place.
Arthur nodded unenthusiastically before leaning back and closing his eyes. ‘I’m just so tired these days.’
‘That’s why a bit of respite care at the nursing home will do you the world of good,’ she told him.
‘That’s what my grandsons keep telling me,’ he grunted.
‘Well then, if we all agree on something for once it must be right.’
Annie privately thought that the further stay under some nursing care would be a good rest for the elderly man. She just hoped that there would be a house to go home to once he had recovered. She reached out to give his hand a reassuring squeeze as he lay there.
‘Good afternoon, Grandad.’
They both jumped at the sound of Sam’s voice from the doorway.
‘Hello, Samuel,’ said Arthur. ‘Is it time for my monthly visit?’
Annie was also surprised to see him there. Surely he should be spending time with his glamorous girlfriend?
Sam sighed. ‘I wanted to let you know that the nursing home have just contacted me. Your room is all ready for you to move into tomorrow.’
‘Temporarily,’ snapped Arthur.
‘I hope so,’ replied Sam. ‘It’s costing me a small fortune!’
But his vague attempt at humour fell on deaf ears.
‘I’m definitely going to Elm Trees Home, aren’t I?’ asked Arthur. ‘Because Terry Adams is in there and I want to look him up.’
‘Yes,’ said Sam, drawing a breath and sounding as if it was an effort to keep calm. ‘You are most definitely being taken to Elm Trees tomorrow.’
‘Good.’
‘Actually I probably need to get back,’ said Annie, anxious to get away from the stilted atmosphere in the room. ‘I promised Rose I’d drop off some more clothes for her at Beryl’s.’
‘Has poor Beryl got the room?’ said Arthur, with a wink.
‘I’ll let you know,’ Annie told him. ‘I’ll come and see you once you’ve settled into your new place.’
Having said goodbye, Annie pulled her handbag onto her shoulder and left the room. Sam made an excuse to pop outside with her briefly.
‘This is impossible,’ he whispered as they stood in the corridor. ‘I can’t believe that is the same man who made the scrapbook of my music work. I think perhaps you were mistaken and that it was Aunt Rose after all.’
She sighed, thinking that the gulf between the two men was as wide as ever before.
‘What did you tell him about the builders?’ he asked, suddenly looking worried.
‘Only what we agreed. That they were making great progress. Nothing bad,’ she added. ‘I didn’t want to upset him.’
‘Oh. Well, thanks.’
‘Look, just try to talk to him,’ said Annie.
Sam rolled his eyes before giving her an unexpected smile for a brief moment. Then she watched as his gaze abruptly dropped to her mouth. His breathing slowed as he raised his eyes to hers once more. And what she saw in his blue eyes shocked her. It was a look of total and utter desire.
Then he quickly turned away and went back into the room, leaving her standing alone in the corridor.
Perhaps all the building dust had got into her brain. Her overactive imagination was out of control. Of course he hadn’t wanted to kiss her, especially now his American superstar girlfriend was back at Willow Tree Hall. And she most certainly did not want to kiss such a rude, arrogant, mean-spirited man.
Did she?