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Clara closed her eyes and turned her face towards the sun, knowing that the stubbornness she’d inherited from her father wouldn’t let her leave it alone.
The present was hard going enough but she could feel tendrils of the past wrapping around her and pulling her back to a woman’s disappearance almost seventy years ago, and to the housekeeper wrongly accused of theft.
13
RIVER
River stepped into the library and ignored an urge to turn tail and step straight back out again.
His father was sitting in the leather armchair, next to the window that overlooked the gardens. A flash of bright blue sea was visible through the trees.
‘River,’ he said, his face solemn.
‘Father,’ River replied.
A silence fell across the room now the two of them had ascertained that they knew who each other was.
‘Um, I was looking for Bartie,’ said River when the silence began to stretch.
‘Bartholomew was here. We had a good chat, but he’s gone off now to ring his office or do whatever it is he needs to do, to make sure that wheels are in motion regarding the sale.’
We had a good chat. His words cut through River, who had long suspected that Geoffrey would rather have Bartie as his son.
Perhaps Clara suspected the same thing, especially now that Bartie had grown into a successful businessman handling ‘high-level mergers’. Whereas he, beneath his Australian tan and broader shoulders, remained the same old unconventional screw-up. His work as a software developer wouldn’t set the world on fire and, to be honest, he was only averagely good at it.
‘I think the announcement this morning went as well as could be expected,’ his father said, adjusting his gold cufflinks.
‘I think so, too, though it was a huge shock for everyone, including Mrs N.’
His father glanced up and caught his eye. ‘Indeed. I’ve apologised for not giving her prior warning.’
Had he? His father apologising was a first.
‘So,’ said Geoffrey. ‘Did you sleep well last night?’
‘Yes, thank you. Though it’s strange being back in my old bedroom.’
‘I expect it is. Truth be told, it’s rather strange having you back in the house. You and Bartie back together. Just like the good old days.’
The good old days? Had he forgotten arguing with his then wife and berating River about his exam results? Or that Bartie had once shut River in the windowless coal cellar and left him there for hours?
Bartie had claimed it was just a joke, and Geoffrey had told River to grow up and stop being over-sensitive after his shouts were eventually heard and he was rescued. But, even twenty years on, River still shivered at the thought of those hours spent trapped in the dark.
Being back at the manor house was strange and discombobulating, like stepping back to a time when he’d been confused and unhappy. He hadn’t set foot in the place for almost two decades and yet…He’d realised last night, as he lay in bed thinking about it all, the prospect of this grand, solid house being sold felt like someone was standing on his chest.
He’d believed that Brellasham Manor had faded into obscurity during his time abroad. But now he understood that the knowledge it was trundling on, unchanged for decades, had given him a feeling of stability. Perhaps he’d always assumed subconsciously that he would return one day.
River swallowed. ‘If you’ve got half an hour to spare, perhaps you and I could have a chat and a catch-up. It’s been a while since we properly talked.’
‘We talked at dinner last night and it’ll be dinner time again soon. There’ll be plenty of time to chat then,’ said Geoffrey briskly.
‘Yes, but Bartie will be there as well. I was thinking that maybe we could have a word now, just the two of us.’
An emotion flickered across Geoffrey’s face and was gone. It looked like fear but River knew he must be mistaken. Why would his father be frightened of him? He was more likely annoyed by River’s apparent ‘neediness’ in wanting to talk.
The door suddenly banged open and Bartie bounded into the room.
‘Well,’ he announced. ‘Good news! The developer contact I mentioned to you is very interested in buying Brellasham Manor. So interested, in fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if she were to match the market rate for the property immediately, or even exceed it if we exerted a little pressure.’ He tapped his nose. ‘If you know what I mean.’
