Bulbury Knap (9 page)

‘And not only her belongings it seems.' Andrew threw back his dark head and glared at his uncle.

‘And that is a problem for you?' Kathryn asked.

He gave her a look of such fierceness she took a step back.

‘Of course not,' Sir Edwin said. ‘The poor young lady needed somewhere to stay for the moment, Andrew, and I was glad to be able to provide it. No problem at all.'

Andrew
hunched his shoulders. ‘No problem you say? And you've accepted this person's offer to pay rent then, have you?'

‘You don't think we should?' Sir Edwin looked anxious. ‘Perhaps not, but the young lady insisted.'

Andrew gave a short laugh. ‘I'll bet she did. She saw the chance to get a firm foothold here and took it.'

Lady Hewson broke the startled silence that followed. ‘I don't think it's like that at all,' she said. ‘She's Kathryn's friend you know, Andrew, not some stranger we know nothing about.'

‘Kathryn's friend? And you don't think that's worrying?'

Sir Edwin ignored the insinuation behind the words. ‘You're quite right about one thing, my boy. We must make a point of not accepting any money from her. She's our guest here at Bulbury Knap and as such should be treated as a friend of the family.'

‘I shall be looking into the question of allowing her to remain on the estate,' Andrew said. ‘And I shall certainly speak to your solicitor about the situation.'

Kathryn felt the keenness of Andrew's glance in her direction. She hadn't heard the last of this from him. For the time being, though, he said no more and accepted a cup of tea from her with a slight nod of thanks.

*
          *          *

Kathryn glanced at the box of brilliant pink cyclamen Michael had placed at his feet on the cobbled yard as she emerged from the kitchen for a few minutes restorative air this bright February morning. She paused, surprised to see Michael so smartly dressed at this time of day.

‘What gorgeous colours,' she said. ‘Are they for the house?'

He nodded. ‘Lady Hewson is fond of them. She wants the place to look welcoming for the Garden Club visit tomorrow. I thought I'd drop one off for Zillah at the same time to brighten up the cottage. I know she likes them.'

‘You do?'

Michael gazed down at the flowers, a smile curving his lips. His white shirt gleamed in the sunshine and his jeans looked new.

‘Zillah's in Lyme at the moment,' said Kathryn.

He looked disappointed. ‘I'll leave it outside her door then.' He made to pick up the box again but then hesitated, as if suddenly remembering something. ‘So, how's it going then, Kathryn? With Andrew, I mean?'

She sighed. ‘I can take aggression and everything else. But not cold and polite. What's he playing at, Michael?'

He frowned. ‘Some devious plan afoot, I
shouldn't
wonder.'

They looked at each other in silence. Then his face softened. ‘It's useless to worry, Kathryn. There's nothing we can do at the moment.'

‘Except make the garden visit the success of the century.'

‘That's the spirit.'

‘He wants Zillah out of course.'

‘And not only Zillah.'

‘Me too?' She knew it was true, of course. By agreeing to stay on at Bulbury Knap to keep the position open for her mother she had helped make it possible for the Hewsons to remain here. ‘So why doesn't he want Sir Edwin and Lady Hewson to stay on here if it's at all possible?'

‘You're aware of what Andrew's business is?'

‘Hotel management. I know he's got a string of places to look after.'

‘Maybe he wants to strike out on his own.'

She looked at him, startled. ‘He'd actually turf his aunt and uncle out and take over the place himself so that he could run it as a hotel?' The idea that Andrew would do such a callous thing was appalling. She stood up straight. ‘You can't just throw someone out of their home. It's not that simple.'

‘If he thinks so he's a fool,' said Michael.

She shivered. ‘And we all know he isn't that. Misguided, but not a fool.' With another
glance
at Zillah's cottage Michael bent to pick up his box of cyclamen.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Kathryn, standing at the kitchen door, could hardly believe that the day for the garden club visit had finally arrived. Already Zillah had placed her easel on the cobbled yard with a canvas on it ready for use outside her cottage. Several unframed paintings stood against the wall, their brilliant colours brightening a scene that Kathryn found appealing. She hoped the visitors would too.

They were due in just under an hour. In spite of Andrew's disapproval Sir Edwin wouldn't hear of cancelling the arrangement and Lady Hewson was quietly adamant that everything should go ahead as planned. They had not seen Andrew since.

Deep in thought, Kathryn turned away to check that the preparations were in order for the arrival of the visitors. All would be well as long as Andrew kept away. She had known early on that his apparent concern for his aunt and uncle's welfare was nothing but a sham. The deviousness of it was disturbing.

Obviously there was something deeper here than the trusting Hewsons were aware of and Michael thought so too. Her mother's job
would
vanish for sure and she would lose the chance of living her dream. And herself? She sighed, ashamed of the split second relief she had felt at her mother's postponed return. She knew with deep certainty that to leave Bulbury Knap now would tear her into shreds.

And now there was the latest news of Zillah's burnt-out studio to worry about. Making the place habitable again and modernising the wiring, the likely cause of the fire, would take months. Kathryn felt a shimmer of doubt about the wisdom of Zillah's decision to ask Sir Edwin if she could stay on in the cottage permanently. If Andrew had plans for Bulbury Knap Zillah would be the first out and she didn't want that for her friend. Even if Andrew didn't get his way she wasn't quite sure that she liked the idea of having Zillah around all the time.

Kathryn sighed. So what did it make her … selfish and uncaring, that's what. Ashamed, she tried hard to be glad for Zillah that she had somewhere like this to stay.

Across the yard Zillah emerged from the cottage with another armful of paintings.

‘What's this, a public exhibition?' Kathryn called across to her.

Zillah put her cargo down and waved. Her smock was ruffled and her dishevelled hair looked as if it hadn't seen a comb for weeks. ‘Why not? I'll get changed in a minute and set to work. A bit of local colour.'

Kathryn
walked across to her, smiling. ‘Have you seen the display of cyclamen Michael's got ready in the greenhouse? Sir Edwin says they're impressive. All for sale. Other things too.'

‘He's worked hard,' Zillah said. ‘A great guy.'

‘You've seen what Michael's been doing?'

‘I've watched those flower buds unfurl as if they're my babies,' Zillah said lovingly.

There was something in her voice that made Kathryn pause. She hadn't seen much of Michael since meeting him in the yard a day or two ago. She had been busy too, of course, making batches of biscuits and sorting out a good recipe for the fruit punch that would be served today. She had picked up the hired glasses yesterday afternoon and Michael had helped unload them from the car on her return. He had organised the wine too but she had seen him only briefly on those occasions, understanding his need to get back to his own work. It seemed that Zillah had seen a lot more of him than she had.

Zillah finished placing her paintings against the wall. ‘Michael reckoned it would be a good idea to have them on show,' she said. ‘The boys say I'll sell them for thousands of pounds.' She gave a deep laugh. ‘I told them that if I did Bulbury Knap would get twenty per cent commission.'

Kathryn smiled but her thoughts were
wandering
to the impending visit. She had tried to make the dining room look less bare with large containers of laurustinus to hide the lack of furniture. Only the dining table had been undamaged and that would come into its own today for the serving of the fruit punch and nibbles. She hoped Andrew wasn't planning to drop in and put a dampener on things.

As soon as the visitors had started the tour of the garden Lady Hewson, her normally pale face flushed, sat down in a wicker chair and accepted the cup of coffee that Kathryn made for her. ‘Thank you, dear. This is nice. I'll just drink this and then I'll help you clear up.'

Kathryn smiled. ‘Please rest, Lady Hewson,' she said. ‘You look exhausted.' She was piling coffee mugs on the tray as she spoke. ‘I'll soon deal with these.'

Lady Hewson's cup rattled in the saucer. Kathryn leapt forward to catch it before it slithered to the floor. ‘Lady Hewson …'

‘I'm all right dear,' her employer murmured as she leaned back in her chair, eyes closed, and put her hand to her forehead.

Kathryn knelt at her side. ‘Tell me what's wrong.'

‘A little dizzy, that's all.' Lady Hewson opened her eyes and looked apologetically at Kathryn.

‘I'll get Sir Edwin.'

‘No, no, dear. Just a few minutes rest, that's
all.
Nothing to worry about.'

Kathryn got to her feet, considering. But already the colour was returning to Lady Hewson's cheeks and Kathryn allowed herself to be convinced that it was a moment's tiredness only.

*          *          *

‘You'll never believe it,' Zillah exclaimed. ‘Five paintings sold and the promise of more orders over the phone. What d'you think of that?'

Kathryn looked at her friend's glowing face and smiled. ‘That's wonderful, Zillah.'

‘Unbelievable,' Zillah agreed. ‘Nearly two hundred pounds commission for Bulbury Knap and more to come.'

Now Kathryn had a sudden idea. Bulbury Knap itself was the important issue here, for all of them. The Hewsons needed some good money-making schemes to be set up and this might well be one if Zillah agreed. She needed to think things through, though, and discuss them with Michael.

Euphoria at the success of the day set in later that evening. Even Lady Hewson, still a little pale, insisted on joining the others on the terrace outside the conservatory for a celebratory drink as dusk began to fall.

Michael, standing near Zillah's chair with a glass in his hand looked supremely content.

Kathryn supplied Tom and Neville with
glasses
of fruit punch and indicated the plate of home-made biscuits on the stone table. She glanced across at the other two but hesitated to join them because they seemed engrossed in each other's company. Michael was seated now with his arm thrown casually across the back of Zillah's chair. Instead Kathryn chose to sit near Lady Hewson.

‘Are you feeling better now?' she asked, bending forward a little. ‘May I get you something more to drink?'

‘No, dear. Not for the moment.' Lady Hewson's eyes were on her husband as he seated himself nearby. ‘He's so happy,' she said fondly.

Kathryn smiled. It had been wonderful for them today, greeting old friends who came each spring to admire the gardens. She couldn't imagine the Hewsons being happy anywhere else. This was their life, their home of many years.

She thought of their daughter, Jane, far away in New Zealand whose home it had also been. Her e-mail address was interesting …
[email protected]
. Short and to the point. But didn't it show that Jane still felt herself part of the place where she had grown up? If, as she and Michael suspected, Andrew wanted Bulbury Knap for himself where would the kind Hewsons go to end their days?

‘You look sad, dear,' said Lady Hewson.

‘How can I be after such a successful day?'
she
said.

‘And much of it due to you, Kathryn.'

‘All of us,' Kathryn said. ‘We're a team.' She had a sudden glow round her heart at the thought of how well they had all worked together. Andrew's absence was one reason, of course. She wondered that he hadn't yet put in an appearance.

At last Michael left Zillah's side and made a move to leave the party in spite of loud protestations from his sons.

Sir Edwin got up, too. ‘I think it would be wise for us to make a move inside, Dorothy, my dear,' he said, looking at her anxiously. ‘It's been a long day.'

Kathryn felt tired too, now the excitement was over. Only Zillah seemed as full of life as ever, leaning back in her chair and waving a hand at Neville. ‘Don't forget what we planned,' she said, winking at Tom. ‘Come back to the cottage with me. I've got something to show you, Kathryn. You'll be surprised what I've been up to.'

The cottage door stood open and Zillah lead the way inside. At first Kathryn could see nothing but as her eyes became accustomed to the gloom she realised that a huge pile of canvasses stood against one wall.

‘There,' said Zillah triumphantly. ‘What do you think of these? I'd better light a candle,' Zillah said. ‘Hang on a minute.'

By the flickering light Kathryn saw that each
canvas
was a riot of glorious colour, in reds and oranges, yellows and purples. ‘You've done all these in the last few days?' she was in wonder.

‘This place inspires me,' Zillah said simply.

Even when she was back in the house making a start on the kitchen, Kathryn couldn't forget the exuberance of Zillah's work. Here was talent and plenty of it. Of course they must mount a special exhibition here at Bulbury Knap. She would talk to Michael about it in the morning.

The chance didn't come until the early evening because Michael had gone to Taunton on business for Sir Edwin and was away all day. There was no sign of Zillah as Kathryn set out to walk across the grass to Michael's cottage but she caught a glimpse of her red and purple smock as she walked up the garden path to the front door.