Country Pursuits (37 page)

All in all, the organization was running wonderfully smoothly, far better than anyone could have hoped. Poignantly, this was largely down to
Harriet and her role as site manager before disappearing. Frances had taken over, as much as she was able, but Harriet had planned everything in such fine detail that the site arrangements practically ran themselves. As they sat round the large dining room at Fairoaks one evening, Harriet's absence had never been so conspicuous or felt so tragic. Several committee members were in tears as Clementine told them what a marvellous job she had done.

Halfway through the month, Ambrose and Frances had an extremely upsetting meeting with DI Rance. After weeks of being plagued by Frances's daily calls for updates on her daughter's investigation, he had decided enough was enough. He had phoned Clanfield Hall and asked if he could visit them. They insisted on driving to the police station, and so it was in a rather squalid and dingy back room that Rance quietly told them that, although they were still doing everything they could, it was more than likely their daughter was dead. A single tear ran down Ambrose's face, and he collapsed into the nearest chair. Frances, chalk-white face and rigid shoulders, declined the offer of a lift home and calmly drove them both back to the Hall.

Once she'd sat by her husband's bed and watched him sob himself to sleep, Frances got back in her car, drove to the furthermost field of the estate and, for the first time since it had happened, truly let her emotions pour out. Jed Bantry, in the area checking for rabbits with myxomatosis, thought the noise was a wild animal wailing in pain. As he got to the boundary of the field, he
found Frances on her knees, crying into the ground. Face paler than ever, Jed took a step forward to console her, then changed his mind and silently retreated. Lady Fraser would not have wanted him to see her like this.

The next day, Frances invited Camilla round for afternoon tea. Her hand clasping the younger woman's, Frances relayed the meeting with Rance. She'd expected to be the one to comfort Camilla, but found herself breaking down again. Camilla, sheet white, held her tightly, struggling to keep her own emotions in check. Frances had finally confirmed what she had been too scared to let herself believe all these months.

Harriet was gone.

The next day, Frances received a phone call from Clementine. Clementine was desperately concerned for her and Ambrose, was she
sure
they wanted the ball to go ahead?

‘Clementine, I've never been so sure of anything,' Frances told her, voice wavering. ‘Churchminster was Harriet's life. It's what she would have wanted.'

THE AUCTION FOR
the Meadows on 10 December was going to be held in Bedlington town hall. Clementine was beginning to feel rather sick about it all. After the murder of the Revd Goody, and the mystery of poor Harriet, and the effect of these two tragedies on the whole village, she really couldn't bear to consider the prospect that they wouldn't raise enough money.

Even more worryingly, someone had leaked Sid Sykes's application plans to the press. It was worse than they had thought. Not only did he want to build the housing estate, Sykes now planned to put in a betting shop and a themed pub, too. He had also had a lucrative offer from a waste-disposal firm to locate one of their tips on the outskirts. Outraged, Clementine had been straight on the phone to Humphrey Greenwood at the council. Surely this wasn't allowed? But after learning that, due to a ridiculous new legal loophole, Sykes could include these additional proposals, Clementine was in despair.

The cold, wet November weather had crept over the village like a bad mood. One day late in the
month, Camilla drove up to Gate Cottage. She didn't know why, perhaps part of her hoped futilely that she might find her best friend there, as though nothing had happened; but another part just wanted to be close to the house they had had so many good times in.

It was a grey day, chilly, with heavy clouds gathering in the sky. Camilla wondered if there might be snow. They had said on the weather forecast that it was possible. It would be wonderful if they had a white Christmas, she thought wistfully as she drove the familiar route to the Clanfield estate. But then the reality of spending it without Harriet hit her, sending her heart plummeting again.

Camilla parked the car in her usual spot by the side of the cottage and made her way round the hedge and into the front garden. The weather was making it worse, but the house and garden looked dreadfully sad and unlived in. A wooden bench sat under the living room window. It was a fantastic sun-trap in summer, and she and Harriet had wiled away many a lazy afternoon on it, gossiping, chatting and laughing.

Now Camilla made her way over there, carefully picking up a luridly bright ceramic dragon that had been kicked over, probably by the police when they searched the cottage. She smiled as she looked at it; Harriet had bought it when they'd gone to the Chelsea Flower Show some years ago. Camilla had thought it was perfectly hideous and told her best friend so, but Harriet had loved its kitsch appeal and bought it anyway, saying if ever an intruder tried to get in they'd be frightened off by its sheer
bad taste. The smile suddenly left Camilla's face. Despite her hopes, the dragon didn't appear to have saved Harriet from God knows who or what terrible fate.

‘Hats, I miss you!' she cried, sitting down heavily on the seat. Her eyes welled up and she put her head in her hands. God, there was so much she wanted to talk to her friend about. The ball, Angus, life; even mundane things like what she was going to cook for dinner and whether she should cancel her subscription with
Country Life
and switch to
Tatler
.

Suddenly, a shadow fell across her and she jerked her head up. To her surprise Jed Bantry was standing there in his work clothes, a toolkit in one hand. ‘You scared the life out of me,' she cried.

Jed stared down at her for a second, his strangely impassive look again seeming to reach deep inside her. ‘Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you.' He sat down on the other end of the bench.

Camilla glanced away quickly; she found his gaze unnerving. ‘I just thought I'd come and sit here for a bit,' she said. ‘It probably sounds silly, but I feel close to her this way.'

Jed looked out into the trees beyond the garden. ‘It's not silly at all,' he told her. ‘I often come round here and do little repairs,' he gestured to his toolkit. ‘I used to think it would look nice for her when she came back. But now . . .' He trailed off.

Camilla turned and studied him properly for the first time. ‘You think a lot of her, don't you?' she asked softly.

Jed looked down at his feet. ‘She's always been there, you know? When we were growing up and
stuff. It feels like a part of me isn't here any more. If I ever find out who did this to her . . .' His voice broke, and he stayed silent for a moment.

Camilla felt tears surge up again, and blinked them away. ‘I know how you feel, I really do. We just have to hope the police catch them.'

Jed turned to her again, and this time Camilla didn't look away, taking in the sharp contours of his face, the long dark eyelashes and those mesmerizing, khaki green eyes. Slowly but surely, he brought his hand up and caressed the outline of her cheek. She could feel his rough, calloused fingers on her skin, it was the most comforting, yet erotic sensation she had ever experienced. What on earth is going on here? she wondered. Am I really feeling like this about Jed Bantry?

He kept his hand there, cupping her face.

‘You're not alone, Camilla.' For some reason she felt thrilled as he used her name for the first time.

She thought he was going to kiss her, but his hand dropped away. She felt a stab of guilt at her disappointment: she was here to remember poor Harriet, not cop off with Jed Bantry! But he looked at her again, a little nervously, and asked, ‘Do you fancy going for a drink some time?'

Camilla went bright red but didn't hesitate. ‘Yes! Sorry, gosh, I mean, that would be great!'

He eyed her carefully. ‘Thursday? It's not very exciting but we could go to the Boot.' He gave her a cheeky smile that illuminated his solemn features. ‘Of course, if you're too embarrassed to be seen with the hired help we could go into Bedlington or something.'

Camilla gave him a mock-indignant slap on the
arm. ‘Of course not! The Boot is just fine.' She smiled at him. ‘Unless you're worried about Stacey emptying a pint over you.'

Jed laughed; it was a deep, throaty sound. ‘I think I can handle it. From what I've heard she's got a new fella anyway, and knowing Stacey, she'll have forgotten my name by now.'

Camilla smiled. ‘Great. So that's a date? I mean, er, a drink . . .'

Jed grinned back. ‘It's a date, Camilla.'

He offered to walk her to her car, but Camilla wanted to sit for a while longer. As she watched his handsome form stride out of the garden, Camilla wondered if she should really be doing this. Was it appropriate, in the circumstances? The wind rustled across the garden and Camilla glanced round. Did she just hear someone laughing? A weird sensation spread over her and for a while she couldn't place it. Then she realized: for the first time in months – and arriving in the surprising form of Jed Bantry – she was looking forward to something.

Thursday arrived, and with it Jed and Camilla's date. As he was the first man she'd been out with since Angus, Camilla hadn't told anyone. But when Calypso came bounding into Camilla's room that night as she was getting changed in a mist of perfume, she guessed instantly.

‘Oh my God, you have totally got a date!' she exclaimed, throwing herself on Camilla's bed and watching her.

Camilla blushed. ‘Mind your own business,' she said.

Calypso whooped. ‘Ooh, touchy! C'mon, who's it
with?' Her face dropped suddenly. ‘Yuk, it's not Angus, is it? Don't tell me you guys have got back together.'

‘No, of course not, and don't talk about him like that,' said Camilla crossly, hunting for her pale-pink Lancôme lip gloss.

‘Who then?' asked Calypso impatiently. ‘It's not like you have a life and go and meet people and stuff.' She clapped her hand over her mouth. ‘Fuck, is it someone from the village?'

‘Might be,' said Camilla, looking through the drawers of her dressing table. Where was the bloody thing?

‘The tall, blond and mysterious Benedict Towey? He is like, HOT,' said Calypso.

‘No.'

‘Not fit-but-fat Peter, the one who works for the brewery and is always in the Boot pissed out of his head?'

‘No way!'

Calypso screwed up her face in frustration. ‘But there isn't anyone else, unless you count the farming lot, and Angus seems to have put you off them for life. Urgh, you're not having an affair with a married man like Freddie Fox-Titt are you? Ma and Pa will go off their rockers!'

‘Sometimes you are too much,' Camilla scolded. She looked at her sister warily. ‘If you must know, it's Jed Bantry.'

There was a pause. ‘As in Jed Bantry, the Frasers' gardener?' exclaimed Calypso.

‘Yes, why so shocked?' asked Camilla defensively.

Calypso studied her. ‘Well he's hardly landed
gentry is he? He's not going to give you the big house in the country you've always banged on about.'

‘Well, maybe I don't want that any more,' Camilla told her huffily. ‘Don't be such an awful snob.'

Calypso lay back on the bed and laughed. ‘I'm not! I'm just surprised, that's all. He's not your usual type. His teeth are normal-sized, for a start.'

Camilla threw a cushion at her head. ‘Watch it!'

‘I'm only joking,' protested Calypso. ‘He is really fit y'know.' She sat up. ‘Omigod, are you going to let him shag your brains out tonight? First date's always a bit tricky, do you put out or not?' Giggling, she put her arms up defensively as another cushion narrowly missed her.

As it happened, the most Jed and Camilla did that night was have a brief, lingering kiss outside her house after he had walked her home. Heart thudding and knees weak, Camilla promised she would see him again soon.

The evening had taken her totally by surprise. She had been worried she wouldn't know what to say to the enigmatic Jed, and she'd had awful visions of them sitting in the bar in stone-cold silence. But he showed a side Camilla never dreamt existed; a dry sense of humour, an interest in what she had to say, and most importantly, he didn't try to be anything he wasn't. Camilla had never met anyone like him before, and she liked that a lot.

As Jed started the walk home afterwards, the delicate scent of her lip gloss still on his lips, his heart was beating as hard as hers, but for entirely
different reasons. Tonight had been one of the best nights of his life. But it still hadn't been the right time to tell Camilla he'd been in love with her since he had first clapped eyes on her, aged eleven, riding her bicycle across the green. That would surely have scared her off, and now Jed had her in his sights he never wanted to let her out of them again. He wasn't religious, but as he looked up at the moon shining benevolently down over Churchminster, Jed Bantry prayed that, after all these years, his feelings would finally be reciprocated.

AMIDST A FLURRY
of hugs and kisses Johnnie and Tink arrived home for their traditional month-long stay over the Christmas period. They'd come back a few days earlier than normal, for the ball, and were filling a table with much-missed friends and family. Party animal that she was, Tink was beside herself with excitement at the thought of a good night out, especially as her hero Mick Jagger would be playing.

On their first night back, the whole family sat down to a welcome dinner at Fairoaks.

‘You both look so well!' Caro said enviously to her parents. ‘I feel half-dead in comparison.'