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He remembered how happy she’d been at the grand ball held here in the ballroom all those years ago. How radiant she’d looked in her beautiful lemon-yellow gown during that exciting evening when the house was filled with music and laughter. That was the last time he’d seen her smile. After that, everything had changed.
Geoffrey gave his head a shake to banish the maudlin thoughts and tried to focus on the present. His son was home, albeit not for the best of reasons, and he should take advantage of his company. Perhaps he could heal the rift between them, though he feared they had little in common. Even their appearance placed them miles apart – he, pale and cultured, in corduroy and tweed, and River looking rather like a hippy with his long hair, golden tan and jeans.
Geoffrey had to admit he had more in common with Bartie, whose company he had missed over the last few years.
A small cough made Geoffrey jump and, when he looked up, Clara was standing beside him. She was carrying a tray with a steaming china cup on it.
‘I thought you might like some tea after the excitement of this morning.’ She placed the tray on the side table next to him.
Geoffrey smiled at this unexpected kindness, especially after his brusque reply to her earlier question. Clara usually kept her distance from him. He wasn’t sure if she liked him or not. But the tea was a kind thought.
‘That’s good of you, Clara. Thank you.’
He expected her to leave but she stayed standing beside him. And when he glanced up and followed her gaze, she was staring at the framed black and white photo that sat on the windowsill. The picture was a formal portrait of him as a child, with his father, Edwin, and Audrey standing behind him.
‘That’s a lovely picture,’ she said, before sucking her bottom lip between her teeth.
‘It’s one of very few I have of my father and stepmother together. My father destroyed a lot of family photographs after my stepmother’s death but I managed to salvage a small number.’
Geoffrey stopped talking, surprised that he had said so much.
‘It’s such a shame what happened to Audrey…your stepmother, I mean.’ She paused. ‘I’m sorry…I probably shouldn’t bring up such a difficult subject.’
No, she shouldn’t. And he wasn’t about to say any more about such a personal issue, even though Clara had been around the manor all her life. He had never talked properly about it with anyone. Not with his wife, and certainly not with his father, who had burned most of the photos on a bonfire in the garden and placed the painting of Audrey in storage. Her name, after that, had rarely been mentioned.
But Geoffrey had put the painting back on the wall soon after his father had died, and he liked to display this photo that seemed to be interesting Clara. There was some comfort in seeing Audrey’s beautiful face that would never grow old as his had done.
‘It was all a long time ago,’ he murmured to Clara. ‘Thank you so much for the tea.’
As he’d hoped, this shut down any prospect of more conversation and Clara walked to the door. But she hesitated, her fingers gripping the door handle.
‘I expect you’re delighted to have River back home, and Bartie too.’
Geoffrey sat back in his chair, noting the curiosity in her gaze. Clara, always a bright spark, knew there was more going on here than a son’s return to the family fold. But she’d find out soon enough.
‘It is very…’ he chose his words carefully, ‘…pleasing to see River back at Brellasham Manor. Bartie, too. We have much to discuss.’
‘I’m sure you do,’ said Clara, giving a tight smile before slipping out of the room.
Geoffrey sipped his tea and went back to staring through the window. There would be lots to do tomorrow but for now he would allow himself the indulgence of remembering the past.
5
CLARA
‘Don’t you think it’s odd, River and Bartie both arriving back at the manor after years away?’ asked Clara.
‘What did you say?’ called her mother, who’d just walked from the sitting room into the hallway of their cottage.
Clara repeated her question at top volume and then winced. Good grief, she was turning into a loud Netherway. She’d be bellowing like Michael next. During his infrequent visits from Canada, he could be heard wherever he was in the house.
‘It’s not odd, at all,’ said Julie, poking her head back around the door. ‘It’s rather lovely.’
‘Yes, of course it’s lovely for Geoffrey, and all that. But neither River nor Bartie has been to the manor for ages and then they both turn up together on the same day, and Geoffrey was being a bit shifty when I spoke to him in the library.’
‘I’m sure he wasn’t being shifty. Don’t be ridiculous.’
‘He was, Mum. There’s definitely something going on.’
