Bulbury Knap (6 page)

At last Michael came back from making sure everyone was aboard the coach when it was time for it to depart.

She washed the last of the coffee mugs and dried her hands on the towel. ‘No sign of Andrew?' she asked.

Michael shook his head as he glanced at his watch. ‘I have to be back home in twenty minutes for school coming out. Mrs Pearce, our child minder, is having the day off. The rain's stopped. Fancy a walk across to my place while you tell me why Andrew instigated a bit of a scene you told me about? I can offer you tea and biscuits with Tom and Neville.'

Kathryn hesitated.

‘You deserve a rest,' he said, at once understanding her reaction. ‘I happen to know Sir Edwin's resting at the moment. They'd hate to be thought slave drivers, you know.'

Michael's cottage was less than five minutes walk away and during that time Kathryn filled him in on what had caused Andrew's outburst when the coach arrived. Michael's brooding silence disturbed her.

She could see Michael's cottage now in its small front garden bright with tulips. The paved path to the low front door looked freshly swept. The door stood open.

‘Ah, my boys are here already,' he said.

They came running to meet their father and
he
scooped them up in a tight hug. As he released them the elder one looked at Kathryn, his blue eyes so like his father's.

‘This is Tom,' Michael said, ruffling his son's fair hair.

‘Hello, Tom,' Kathryn said.

‘And I'm Neville,' said his brother. ‘I'm nearly as big as him but I'm only six.'

‘I very nearly thought you were twins,' Kathryn said, smiling at them both.

Tom gave a snort of laughter. ‘No way. We're nowhere near alike. Our hair's different. Neville's is nearly black.'

‘Let's get inside,' said Michael. ‘Drinks and biscuits all round and then Kathryn and I have some talking to do.'

‘So,' he said as soon as the boys had escaped to the other small front room to watch television. He walked ahead of her carrying the tea tray and with his elbow flicked on the light switch. The room, illuminated, looked cosy. Outside a small branch tapped against the windowpane. ‘I can't see anything wrong with that idea of yours. It makes perfect sense to me now you've raised the subject.' He placed the tray on a small table he hooked into position with his foot.

‘Andrew is dead against it,' Kathryn reminded him as she accepted a cup of tea.

Pouring his own, Michael looked as if he was giving the matter serious thought. ‘I'll take a look for myself tomorrow,' he said.

‘Do
you think that the garden clubs are too much for Sir Edwin?' she asked.

‘Not if he's sensible and allows me to take some of the strain. But Sir Edwin and Lady Hewson are so interested in people who come, so keen to see their appreciation. They enjoy it all so much.'

‘I can see that,' Kathryn said.

‘Andrew is always pushing for Sir Edwin and Lady Hewson to give the place up.'

‘And move away from Bulbury Knap?' said Kathryn with feeling. ‘They'd hate that.'

‘They would indeed,' said Michael. ‘Andrew feels responsible for them, of course. Where is he now, by the way?'

‘He'll have gone by now, I expect,' said Kathryn, hoping it was true. So much had happened already today she couldn't face more recriminations. ‘He only came for the day and didn't want an evening meal.'

An outburst of shouting came from the other room. Michael got up to investigate and Kathryn glanced about her. The big round table pushed to the wall to give room for the three easy chairs was so highly polished it gleamed. Between two shining copper pots on the mantelpiece were several photographs of the boys at various stages in their young lives. Kathryn got up to take a closer look and saw that another photograph, slightly behind the others, was of a younger Michael with a young girl whose lively expression was so like
Neville's
mischievous one that she smiled to see it.

‘The boys' mother,' Michael said, returning.

Kathryn jumped, feeling awkward as she sat down again.

Michael cleared his throat as he seated himself too. ‘She died giving birth to Neville.'

His tone was so final that she could only murmur something inadequate half beneath her breath. She knew instinctively that it would be an intrusion to offer sympathy and he wouldn't welcome it. She wondered if he had been living here at the time in this lonely cottage when he was left with two small sons.

Michael seemed to shrug off any sad feelings. His smile was warm as he talked some more of the empty cottages that used to house employees in the old days and had long been empty and disused. ‘There's no reason that they couldn't be used again,' he said. ‘It wouldn't take a big outlay to fit them up into holiday accommodation. It would be change of use, of course, but I can't see the planners objecting.'

‘There's so much to do, so much to think about,' Kathryn said. Then, in case he thought she was complaining she added, ‘I love the quietness and the beauty of it all here at Bulbury Knap.'

He looked very quietly pleased. ‘You do?'

‘My mother will love it too, when she comes.'

‘How
is she?'

‘Enjoying being with Helen, my sister, down in Cornwall. She's glad to be able to keep an eye on things and not let Helen do too much now she's expecting another baby.'

‘So it's working out well all round?' he said with satisfaction.

‘Perfectly,' said Kathryn, feeling her eyes cloud at the sudden thought of Nick and the reason it was so convenient for her to be here. She hadn't thought of Nick all morning, not until now in fact and it was the middle of the afternoon. ‘I'd better get back,' she added, standing up.

Michael stood up too. ‘I'll walk you back. The boys will be all right for a little while.'

The distance seemed shorter to her now the route was familiar. In no time they had reached the gate to the pathway through the trees and were walking across the grass to the drive at the front of the house.

Someone, in jeans and a green sweatshirt with a rucksack on his back, was standing looking up at the front of the building.

Michael stopped abruptly. ‘A visitor,' he said. ‘Or has someone lost his way?'

Iain, of course! Helen had warned her that he might show up at Bulbury Knap in due course and now he was here. Kathryn rushed forward to greet him, delighted he had taken the trouble to seek her out.

‘Iain!' she cried.

He
caught her to him in a warm hug and then let her go again. She looked round for Michael but he had gone. ‘Thanks for moving out to allow room for Mum,' she said.

The smile Iain gave her made him look years younger than his thirty years. ‘It gave me the incentive I needed to take to the open road with an objective in mind,' he said cheerfully.

Even though he had often changed direction in his life and seemed content at the nomadic life he'd willingly embraced for her mother's sake Kathryn was grateful to him for making it sound so easy and uncomplicated. This project of Iain's was only last in a succession of job choices and sounded the best yet. She wondered if he'd started writing his book.

‘And now I'll be able to report that all is well here,' Iain said. ‘I take it that's so?'

Kathryn hesitated. He looked at her keenly. ‘Uncle Iain's a dab hand at solving problems.'

‘I don't think you'll be able to crack this one.'

‘Just try me.'

They went through the arch and into the yard.

‘Mmm,' said Iain, looking at Andrew's low-slung sports car with appreciation. ‘A friend of yours?'

Kathryn shuddered. ‘Not after the scene he created this morning.'

‘Want to tell me about it?'

‘Come
inside, Iain, and bring that great rucksack with you.'

Iain was a good listener. As they drank their coffee at the kitchen table, Kathryn confided everything and found a great feeling of release in doing so to someone so closely connected to her family. Unlike Michael, who was an employee at Bulbury Knap, Iain could be truly objective.

‘I don't understand it,' Iain said pensively when she had finished. ‘It's as if the chap's deliberately blocking everything.'

‘Michael has already suggested to him that he could organise a plant stall for the visitors,' she said. ‘He thought it would be a good money spinner.

Iain raised an eyebrow. ‘And?'

‘Andrew wouldn't hear of it. Squashed the idea at once.'

‘Doesn't anything occur to you in all this?' Iain asked. He sounded really serious.

‘What do you mean?'

‘Has Andrew Hewson done anything about the break-in?'

‘How do you mean?'

‘Been on to the police again? Got someone in to check the existing burglar alarm? Discovered how they immobilised it?'

Kathryn hesitated. ‘He knows it's inadequate and that the Hewsons can't afford a better one.'

‘So why not look into ways of raising the
money
then? You'd think it the obvious thing to do in the circumstances.'

She was silent. When she'd been busy clearing out the conservatory earlier she had even considered raising the matter with Sir Edwin, but not wanting to jeopardise Mum's position, felt he might consider what she had to say completely out of order.

‘We mustn't forget that Andrew was on to the doctor at once when Sir Edwin collapsed,' she said. ‘And he comes so often to see them.' She glanced surreptitiously at her watch.

Iain drained the last dregs of coffee from his mug. ‘I must be off.' He got to his feet and hauled up his rucksack.

She heard Andrew's car start up and the roar as he set off through the archway far faster than was safe. ‘You're not going already?' She tried to keep the relief from her voice that the two men hadn't met. Not this time, anyway.

As he reached the outside door Iain paused to fish in the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out a card. ‘This is my mobile number. Give me a buzz when you get some time off.'

He shot her an unfathomable look. ‘I'll go now and leave you time to think about it. Have a word with your employers about your idea, why don't you? Talk it through. Sounds as if the chap, Michael, will back you up. I don't suppose for one moment that Andrew discussed it with anyone. He sounds a mite
high-handed
to me.'

Kathryn smiled wryly. ‘There's no way I can take anything upon myself without falling foul of Andrew.'

‘Coward!'

CHAPTER SIX

Kathryn stood looking out at the yard through the smeary cottage window, imagining clean paint on the walls and flowery curtains blowing in the breeze. When serving breakfast this morning her employers had been concerned that she should have some time to herself and on impulse she had asked for permission to take a look inside the empty cottages across the yard.

Sir Edwin had helped himself to toast. ‘The workmen's cottages? Of course, my dear. They're structurally quite safe so you'll come to no harm.'

‘The workers on the estate lived there long ago,' Lady Hewson said.

Sir Edwin gave a small sigh. ‘No-one would want to live there nowadays.

‘No electricity …'

‘There was water laid on,' Lady Hewson said. ‘They managed quite well. But first, dear, we have something to show you.'

Sir Edwin pulled a folded sheet of paper
from
his pocket and handed it to Kathryn.

‘Andrew printed out Jane's e-mail for us,' Lady Hewson said proudly.

Kathryn saw that the words on the subject line of the e-mail were
Crisis at Bulbury Knap
. In dismay she read that Jane was deeply concerned about the state of the house and of her parents' ill health and inability to cope. She wanted them to move out immediately while Andrew dealt with what had to be done. A wave of anger at the absent Jane swept over Kathryn so quickly she gasped.

‘So worried about us, dear Jane,' said Lady Hewson calmly. ‘There's really no need for her to come all the way from New Zealand and we shall tell her so when we speak to her on the telephone.'

‘Your daughter's planning to come over?' asked Kathryn.

‘It would be lovely to see her, of course,' Lady Hewson said wistfully.

But not if the object of the visit was to turf them out of their beloved home and put it on the market, Kathryn thought as she turned away from the window and went downstairs. She dusted down the front of her jeans as she shut the front door behind her.

‘Kathryn!'

She spun round. ‘Andrew.'

‘You're wanted indoors,' he said. ‘There's been a phone call. Urgent, my uncle said. You'd better hurry.'

Kathryn
hadn't known what to expect as she rushed indoors. Now, a couple of hours later, on the drive to Cornwall with Iain seated in the car beside her, she wondered at her calmness on hearing that her mother had been taken to hospital again after a fall in the road outside the Polmerrick cottage.

The Hewsons had said at once that she could take the rest of the day off, that Andrew was here and would stay overnight so Kathryn was not to worry about hurrying back. Iain's chance phone call soon after was welcome and so was his offer to accompany her on the long drive.

She was grateful for Iain's continuous talk about the Jurassic Coast. He had begun investigating the Devon end, the oldest section, and was already planning his book. The cliffs on their own part of the coast were made up from rocks that dated from the Lower Jurassic period of approximately 180 to 200 million years old capped by rocks from the Cretaceous Age of about one hundred million years old.

‘I see,' Kathryn murmured though of course she didn't. The numbers meant nothing to her in her present state of mind. They arrived in the crowded hospital car park just as someone was pulling out of a space in the corner.