As she drove up to the front entrance and before turning past it to a door at the side, Rachel had a flashback to the first and only time she had been to the castle. Then, the drive and the entrance had been floodlit, the side area was a car park full of waiting Bentleys and their chauffeurs, and she had been walking out down the flight of stone steps with Simon, after the Lord Lieutenant’s dinner.
Now, there were three or four much more modest cars parked in the gravelled area where she pulled up. There was a truck with ladders and two men lopping some branches of a great horse-chestnut tree. A food-delivery van moving off.
‘Good morning!’ Rupert Barr came out to her. He’s handsome, Rachel thought. She hadn’t taken it in before. Handsome and charming, well mannered, well spoken, well dressed. It all went together. She smiled to herself. Simon would fit in perfectly here, although he did not have the money. He had the air of easy, almost casual command, though. Was that another way of saying ‘air of superiority’? Not quite but self-belief and confidence, certainly.
‘Rachel.’ Rupert kissed her lightly on both cheeks. ‘Listen, it’s such a beautiful morning, would you like to walk down through the top garden to the gazebo? We can sit in there and have our coffee and talk work.’
‘I’d love that. I’m a gardens freak.’
‘Well then, when we’ve finished work I’ll show you round. It’s been my brother’s lifelong task to restore the grounds – they were a bit down at heel when he inherited, so he’s spent a lot of time and effort on them. Nothing’s been altered too much, just spruced and repaired and he did a lot of replanting – and some drastic tree felling. It looks wonderful now but I’ve scrutinised the original plans and there are plenty of Edwardian photographs. It’s still recognisable. Gertrude Jekyll had a hand in some of the west garden.’
They began to wander down some wide stone steps onto a great lawn. At the end a magnificent copper-beech tree stood on top of a grassy bank.
‘The Theatre Lawn. We host the Lafferton Players every other year. Traditionally they do A Midsummer Night’s Dream of course.’
‘Anything else?’
‘Come and see – it’s next year.’
‘Are the gardens open?’
‘No, only for that and for one outdoor concert, but not the gardens alone. I think my brother likes people to enjoy them but he prefers to do it by invitation not as a regular thing. When he was Lord Lieutenant there were masses of garden parties for charity and I wish he’d do it again. But he feels he spent such a lot of time being on duty as a public figure, he wants to be quiet and peaceful here now.’
They walked across the lawn and along paths between magnificent borders, through a laburnum tunnel and up towards a ha-ha, on the other side of which a field of sheep were dotted about as if they had been scattered like confetti. Here they turned left and Rachel saw the gazebo, white, Edwardian in style, and overlooking the valley through a wide opening in a high hedge. As they went towards it they were overtaken by a golf buggy which stopped at the gazebo. A young man took out a container and went inside. As Rachel and Rupert followed, he was setting out coffee in a Thermos, china mugs, milk, and a tin which they found full of shortbread.
She looked out to the valley beyond. Lafferton Cathedral tower rose out of a haze in the distance. The rest of the town was hidden.
‘Goodness.’
He let her pour her coffee. The gazebo had basket chairs but they sat at the table, looking out. A mower hummed in the distance.
‘You are not going to believe this, Rachel, but I have a pretty big business and I don’t always have every bit of it in my head, just the overall picture. I’m good at the overall picture. But one of the business managers was here yesterday going over various things and he brought up Lafferton. Of course I knew I owned some property in Lafferton – the old cinema, for instance … we’re still trying to decide what to do with that. We have some apartments converted from the old ribbon factory. A couple of small blocks – mixed residential and shops. And half of one side of the street in the Lanes which includes the bookshop. Believe it or not.’
Rachel’s spurt of alarm must have shown on her face.
‘But I swear that has nothing to do with wanting to take it on with you. Genuinely, I didn’t realise. Does it mean you would rather not continue?’
‘I’m not sure. Surely the quarterly rent –’
‘Will be paid to one of the holding companies. There are several. It’s quite normal in property business. I think the rent for the Lafferton buildings goes through Pendulum Estates but I can check. You can check, come to that. The lawyers and agents deal with the day-to-day stuff.’
‘It sounds as if you have a lot of properties.’
‘I do – or rather, my companies do. I started with three shops and a house that I inherited when I was eighteen. I expanded from there.’
He sat forward and put down his cup.
‘If you want me to pull out at this point, Rachel, I will.’
‘Of course not. I don’t see how it can make any difference who owns the bricks and mortar. That isn’t why you became involved.’
‘Indeed it isn’t. But thank you. Now – one thing I’ve discovered that goes along with all this. The antique jeweller next door to the bookshop …’
‘I don’t understand how he makes a living. He has some nice things but they’re very overpriced and I never see people going into the shop.’
‘Which is probably why he’s closing down. He wants to retire anyway.’
‘I hope something good takes it over.’
‘I think it may. You’ll need to look at it carefully and see if you agree but it would make a wonderful extension to the bookshop. We’ll need to talk to builders but if we opened up the wall between the two we could have a children’s section all to itself … and that part would adapt very well to events and the coffee bar … there would be much more room to breathe.’
Rachel leaned back and looked at Rupert with approval. ‘You are the perfect business partner.’
‘Or just the perfect partner,’ someone said in a heavily accented voice.
The man who came into the gazebo was slim, tall, with a large nose, classically Venetian colouring and features, a face seen in paintings and frescoes in churches all over the city.
‘This is Guido.’ For some reason, Rupert looked slightly impatient at the interruption.
The Italian took Rachel’s hand and kissed it lightly. It was difficult to tell his age. His skin was smooth, his hair thick and glossy, worn slightly longer than was now fashionable but it suited him, and it was beautifully cut.
‘We’re having a business meeting and the coffee pot is empty,’ Rupert said.
Guido laughed. ‘Fine, I only came to say I am going to London after lunch now, not tonight, and back not till Thursday.’
‘OK, I’ll see you before you go.’
‘So nice to meet you. But only the first time. We shall meet much more often.’
‘I hope so.’
‘I know so.’ He lifted his hand to them both as he left.
For the next hour and a half they mapped out plans, swapped ideas, made notes. Rupert did not want to be identified as landlord of the bookshop or the adjacent jeweller’s but would ask someone at the property company to arrange for Rachel to look round. There was no harm in her telling the jeweller she was interested in taking it over. And although she and Rupert did not plan to make the new venture public until everything was formalised and all the work done, it would not actually be a secret.
‘If word spreads like a nice piece of gossip, all the better.’
Rachel laughed. ‘If all goes according to plan and we get the financial side sorted out, when do you think we might be ready to reopen?’
‘Grand launch? September – but that’s a good time. Holidays over, schools settled back.’
‘Christmas in sight.’
‘Absolutely.’
‘It’s a tight schedule, Rupert.’
‘I like a challenge. So do you, I can tell.’
‘I’ve never had one like this. But I’m excited.’
She was. And it would give her something to fill her mind and time, whether Simon was still absent or had returned. She had to stop making him the centre of her world.