Jack slid his mobile phone back into the pocket of his jeans and sighed softly. It had been a brief, typically awkward conversation with his mother to assure her that he was fine and had no residual effects from the fire.
You should be glad that somebody worries about you, he found himself thinking. Family. Friends. All the things that he had never had and never wanted.
Never needed, he reminded himself. It had just been himself growing up and that had served him very well.
‘Hey,’ said Will, coming across the patio towards him. ‘You couldn’t give me a hand, could you?’
His hands were full of bunting and other party-type paraphernalia.
‘What’s all this for?’ asked Jack.
‘The stable block,’ Will told him as they began to walk across the back of the great house and towards a nearby path. ‘It’s time for the September fair next weekend. I don’t know where the time goes. We’ve only just had the last monthly one.’
‘It’s every month?’ asked Jack, walking alongside him.
‘Yeah. Can’t believe how quickly it’s taken off, to be honest. It started off as just a one-off event, but it’s grown into a monthly thing. Have you seen the stable block?’
Jack shook his head. ‘Not yet.’
He glanced over at the huge back lawn, which had become a wildflower meadow thanks to the complete lack of care and the mix of sunshine and rain – although the flowers were now losing their bright colours and beginning to fade as autumn was just around the corner.
‘I’m quite pleased about it, to tell you the truth,’ said Will, as they walked. ‘Now that I’m Estate Manager, there’s a kind of responsibility for it all. We started off with just Eleanor’s business – that’s one of Annie’s friends – in one of the dozen workshops, and now they’re almost all full.’
As they rounded a large tree, the group of buildings came properly into view.
The stable block was an L-shaped block built in the same honey-coloured brick as the main Hall. There were about ten individual stables, each with green shutters and a window. They all appeared to be occupied by various businesses.
The nearest two stables had a sign across that read ‘Eleanor’s Apothecary’.
‘My wife uses the one next door for her furniture upcycling business,’ said Will.
‘What’s that over there?’ asked Jack, nodding at a separate building.
‘The old dairy house,’ Will told him. ‘You can see that it hasn’t been touched, unlike the
stable block, which Tom worked on.’
‘Tom the multi-platinum, award-winning famous singer?’
Will grinned. ‘Yup. One and the same. Turns out he was a pretty decent carpenter as well.’
Always interested in old buildings, Jack walked towards the dairy house. Whilst the windows looked rotten, the brick itself was the lovely sand-coloured brick that was so attractive.
‘Do you mind if I have a look inside?’ asked Jack.
‘Go ahead,’ said Will. ‘But be careful. I’m not sure how stable the whole structure is.’
Will was actually underestimating the state of the place, thought Jack, as he peered inside. It was a good, solid building with thick walls. There was a smaller room at the back, but the main room was a great size.
‘Maybe you could use this as a workshop as well?’ he said, blinking at the bright sunshine as he went back outside.
‘I suppose,’ said Will. ‘But I’m not sure who’s got the kind of money to rent it out, let alone the current state of the place.’
‘Which of my many buildings are being utilised now?’ said Arthur, stepping into the courtyard with Bert alongside him.
‘Jack was looking at the old dairy,’ Will told him.
‘It’s been a while since anyone was in there,’ said Arthur, looking at Bert. ‘Do you remember when it was in full swing?’
‘Remember the mess that the cows made,’ muttered Bert.
‘The fresh milk was always welcome, though,’ said Arthur, ever amiable. ‘Perhaps we could get a cow for the baby.’
‘I think Sam and Annie would prefer a cot, to be honest,’ said Will, raising an eyebrow in a sardonic manner.
‘Perhaps you’re right,’ said Arthur, sitting down next to Bert on the ancient seat in the courtyard.
‘How are you?’ asked Jack to Bert.
‘I’d be better if everyone stopped fussing,’ muttered Bert.
‘You should have thought about that before you started making your exploding moonshine,’ said Will, shaking his head. ‘You know, you’ve got to be so careful with this kind of stuff. I was reading up on a whisky in Scotland. An ancient recipe. Could take your breath away. Literally, as it happens, because it could kill a grown man with only two spoonfuls.’
‘Really?’ said Jack.
‘Absolutely,’ said Will. ‘It was ninety-two per cent proof.’
‘The water of life,’ murmured Arthur.
‘More like the elixir of death at that strength,’ said Will, rolling his eyes. ‘What on earth got you two interested in it?’
‘The GIs during the war,’ said Arthur, smiling in memory. ‘The main house was used for evacuees and various servicemen. All the great houses were. Anyway, we had quite a few American GIs staying with us. I was just a baby, of course. But their families continued to visit after the war and into the 1950s. I think that’s what sparked Rose’s love of travelling. And possibly husbands as well. Anyway, one of them left his recipe behind. Your great-grandfather tried it out. Bert and I were talking about it one day and thought we’d give it a go.’
‘Turned out alright,’ said Bert, sounding almost proud.
‘I’m not sure that’s quite how I’d phrase it,’ said Will, frowning.
‘How did it taste?’ asked Jack, interested.
Will turned to look at him in surprise.
Jack shrugged his shoulders. ‘I quite like the smaller breweries. There’s so many artisan distilleries now.’
Arthur made a face. ‘Truth be told, it didn’t taste great.’
‘Perhaps it needed some flavour,’ said Jack. ‘You know, like the juniper of gin. Or even rhubarb gin. Apples or pears.’
‘We’ve plenty of apples,’ grunted Bert. ‘They all need picking and harvesting.’
‘I’ve already got my hands full,’ said Will, holding up his hands. ‘We need to get that barn up and running with electricity and maybe some doors as well.’
‘Is Tom helping us again?’ asked Arthur.
Will shook his head. ‘He’s heading off soon on a short tour. So I need another carpenter to give us a hand.’
‘I’ll have a word with Mr Reynolds, shall I?’ said Arthur. ‘He’ll put us in touch with someone decent, I’m sure.’
‘As long as they’re cheap,’ said Will, with a grimace. ‘Funds are a little short this month.’
‘Actually, I might know someone,’ said Jack.
‘Great,’ said Will. ‘And you’re sticking around for the time being, are you?’
Jack found himself tempted. ‘Well, I’ve got nothing else to do until I find another job.’
‘Excellent notion,’ said Arthur, smiling.
He and Bert walked away, deep in discussion.
‘Sorry to have put you on the spot like that,’ said Will, in a hushed tone. ‘I know you’re anxious to move on with your life.’
Jack thought for a moment. ‘The trouble is I’m not sure which direction to go in. I don’t build things any more. I only seem to tear them down. And I hate it. Really hate it.’
‘Well, you’re a bloody good electrician, if this morning’s work is to be gauged,’ said Will. ‘Maybe you could do that instead. Put your old skills to good use.’
Jack found that he was smiling. ‘Maybe I could.’
‘And it was nice to see Grandad looking so cheerful,’ said Will, with a sudden frown. ‘This whole business of the takeover has been bringing him down.’
As they carried on with their work, Jack realised that he had begun to ignore the consequences of the land and buildings that he had worked on for the past few years. He had only seen the pound signs, but his job had affected real people. Was he losing his nerve? His competitive edge?
He knew that he had a house that was bought and paid for. That he was financially secure. He didn’t need to keep going and going with the next extravagant project – which made him wonder what to do with his life.
For once, he didn’t feel like running. He felt comfortable. Amongst friends.
And then there was Lily. He still needed to make amends with her. So perhaps a few more weeks would work in his favour. He knew that he was deliberately stringing out the list of jobs around Willow Tree Hall so that he could stick around the village more.
And that this wasn’t about anything other than Lily.