The Mill House (20 page)

As she pushed open the door she felt herself becoming vaguely light-headed, as though she were slipping into a dream. The lights were respectfully low, casting half-moon shadows around the stone walls, and there was a scent of flowers mixed with sulphur in the air. Candles flickered on the altar that was against the opposite wall, lighting the granite cross over it, and a tasteful posy of flowers had dropped a few petals onto the pristine white cloth. The coffin was at the

centre of the chapel, laid out on a long marble table and facing away from her towards the altar.

Closing the door she took a moment to collect herself, then walked quietly across the carpet, increasingly fearful now of how she was going to respond when she saw him again after all these years, and here, like this. As she drew near she closed her eyes, not quite ready yet. She wanted to recall him first as the younger man she'd known with lively blue eyes and a ready laugh, the loving father who'd taught her to ride a bike and play tennis, who'd read her stories at night and clapped the loudest at her little accomplishments. She wanted to think of him as the man his friends and neighbours spoke of with such affection, the parent she remembered and still missed so much, as though somehow her precious memories could destroy all the terrible doubts her mother had planted, that he hadn't loved her enough to stay.

She stood behind the coffin and let her eyes travel down it towards the altar. She was close enough now to see his hands, clasped lightly below his waist, pale and rugged against his navy velour robe. Her heart was so full that its beats felt cumbersome and heavy. It seemed hard to connect with the reality of why she was here, yet there was nothing else beyond it.

A few more steps and she was round at the side of the coffin. Her hands were clenched tightly together, her whole body was tensing so hard that she was barely able to breathe. Though she couldn't quite look yet, she was aware of a white silk cravat tucked into the neck of his robe, and

the navy taffeta of the coffin lining with its matching frill. She listened to the tiny wisps of her breath, and the silence that surrounded her, then at last she forced her eyes to move to his face, and the rush of emotion as she saw him was so intense that her hands flew to her mouth to stifle the cry. He'd hardly changed. His long, slender cheekbones, his slightly crooked nose, the lines in his forehead and clean-shaven chin were just the same, hardly impaired by age. His hair was barely troubled by grey and his lips almost seemed to be smiling, and there was such an aura of peace around him that she wanted to lie down with him and become a part of it.

'Dad, oh Dad,' she whispered brokenly.

The temptation to hold him and try to make him put his arms around her was so strong she could barely fight it. She inhaled shakily and became aware of the tears falling onto her cheeks. 'I loved you so much,' she told him. 'I tried to understand, but I never could.' She put a hand on his and felt the coolness of his skin. 'Why did you go?' she whispered.

She gazed down at him, almost as though expecting a reply, but his secret, along with his laughter and love, had gone with him to another place now.

'Please be who I think you are,' she implored. 'Please don't be the man I'm so afraid of. That's not you, is it, Dad? Please tell me that's not you.'

Clearly sensing that Julia was in need of a restorative break after leaving the chapel of rest, Fen whisked her straight off to a nearby pub where

she ordered them both a stiff drink, and collected a couple of menus from the bar.

Julia was grateful for her understanding, and relieved when she steered their conversation onto the safer territory of children, motherhood and careers, rather than pressing any more on her about her father right now. She soon realised she was finding Fen extremely easy to be with, supportive without being overwhelming, and interested without being intrusive. She was also discreet, for when Julia's mobile rang with calls from Shannon, then Dan, she made herself scarce, either by visiting the Ladies, or going to the bar and ordering some food.

Since she was still standing at the counter chatting when Julia rang off from Dan, Julia quickly dialled Josh's direct number at the office, and prayed he'd be there, for she certainly didn't want to call his mobile and start wondering where he was as they spoke.

'He's on the other line to New York, negotiating some film rights,' Marina told her, 'so he could be a while. Shall I ask him to call back?'

'If he has time,' Julia replied tartly, and was instantly sorry, for it was hardly Marina's fault that he wasn't free.

'How's it going down there?' Marina asked.

'OK. Everyone's very nice.'

'Is there anything I can do for you this end?'

'I don't think so, but thanks for the offer.'

As she rang off she was already regretting making the call, and wondered why she had. It was probably habit, for she was used to turning to Josh when she felt vulnerable and in need of a

shoulder. However, she clearly wasn't thinking straight, for how on earth could he make her feel better, when he was such a big part of the reason she was feeling so bad?

'I ordered a bowl of chips on the side,' Fen confessed as she came to sit down again. 'A day for self-indulgence, methinks.'

Julia smiled. She wasn't going to argue with that, though she had virtually no appetite at all.

'Everything OK at home?' Fen enquired.

'Fine. The kids are a bit concerned about me, and how it's going down here. They were just checking up.'

'How adorable,' Fen commented, taking a sip of her drink. 'I'm not sure I could count on my two for such moral support.' She chuckled. 'Actually I do them a disservice, they're good girls really.'

'What age are they?'

'Fifteen and twelve. They're weekly borders at a school near Truro, and they're both horse-mad, which they get from their mother. Do either of yours ride?'

'Shannon's had a few lessons. Josh takes her when he has time.'

'Josh is your husband? Will he be coming for the funeral?'

Julia took a breath to say no, and to her surprise found she was on the brink of tears. Thankfully, she managed to pull herself back in time - Fen was dealing with enough of her family issues already, the last thing she needed was to have even more heaped on top. 'He'll be here on Saturday,' she said. 'He's bringing Shannon, then taking Daniel sailing.'

'Shannon's coming? Oh, what a pity my girls are going to miss her. My mother's taking them to Italy for the half-term break. She's Italian, you see. She still has family there, so she goes every year at this time, while Rico, her nephew, my cousin, generally comes here to help Dad with the farm and horses. You'll probably meet him over the next couple of days, and I should warn you, he'll probably turn your knees weak because he has that effect on most females who cross his path. He may be my cousin and twenty years younger, give or take, but they don't come much more gorgeous than him - and don't be taken in by his shyness, because it's all a ruse, or that's what I keep telling him.'

Julia was smiling. 'I'll look forward to meeting him,' she commented, glancing up as a barman came to put paper napkins and cutlery on their table. 'But it's a shame about the girls not being here.'

'I know, however, speaking purely selfishly, I wouldn't mind having their father to myself for a while, which I probably would have, if he weren't off to a conference in Salisbury for two days on Monday ... Oh, that was quick, here's our lunch already.'

They continued to chat as Fen wolfed down a beef and horseradish baguette and all the chips, while Julia nibbled at a cheese sandwich, and felt the vodka going to her head.

'I was wondering,' she said, as they strolled back outside into a sudden blaze of autumn sunshine, 'if we could perhaps go to the house now. I need to decide if I'm going to stay there, because if I don't, I should book myself into a B & B.'

'If you don't, my parents will insist you stay with us,' Fen informed her. 'We're very close by. In fact the mill used to be on our land, until Daddy sold it, and half an acre, to your father.'

Julia was surprised, and curious. 'You live with your parents?' she said.

Fen's eyebrows made a comical rise. 'The house is big enough for half a dozen families,' she replied, 'but Bob and I only moved in a year ago, after Daddy's second heart attack. He wanted us to, in order to avoid inheritance tax when he and Mummy finally do pop off, otherwise David and I - that's my brother - would probably end up having to sell the place. David has an apartment in the east wing, but he spends most of his time over at Chapel Amble, where he has a scrummy restaurant and an even scrummier partner called Charles, who's a brilliant carpenter.'

Julia smiled. Everything sounded so idyllic about Fen's life and family that she could almost feel envious. 'I was wondering what my father did for a living?' she said, as they headed back towards Fen's office.

'He had a landscaping business that was quite successful actually. He had to give it up when he became ill, unfortunately, but we sold it for enough to make ends meet.'

'And Gwen? Did she work?' 'She taught at the village school. I think it kind of made up for not having children of her own.' Coming to a stop at her office door, she glanced at her watch and said, i guess the best thing to do now is for you to jump in your car and follow me to Shallard's Cross. Where did you park?'

'Over by the Shire Hail,'

'Excellent. My car's there too, so I'll just pop inside to pick up the file we prepared for you, and we'll be on our way.'

The drive to Shallard's Cross, the village closest to the mill and Bower family estate, ended up taking little more than twenty minutes, mostly on the main road, until they turned off down a narrow, winding lane that was bordered by high hedges and grassy banks for the last three miles. For a while they were trapped behind a tractor and, though she'd have preferred to absorb her surroundings, Julia found herself caught in the overriding fear that Josh might be with Sylvia right now, making love to her and planning how he was going to end his marriage. The dread of it was building to such a pitch inside her that she could feel herself starting to panic. Her chest was tight, her mind was entering a turmoil of horror and fear. Somehow she managed to draw herself back, but then she was thinking of her mother, and how she hadn't even called to check Julia was all right after she'd stormed off in a temper the day before. But what did she expect? Her mother had never shown much concern about her in the past, so she'd be some kind of fool to think she would now.

Fortunately, the blackness of her reveries was wiped away as the tractor turned off into a farm and she followed Fen over the brink of a hill to find herself faced with the most breathtaking vista of gently undulating fields and forests, spreading like a Utopian mirage throughout the valley before her. 'Oh my,' she murmured, feeling the beauty of it stirring inside her. Though the sun was weak

and the sky colourless and low, the air was clear enough for her to see for miles, and the landscape was so graceful, yet rugged, so rousing, yet calming that already she could feel some of the knots inside her starting to unfurl.

She continued after Fen's Volvo, heading downhill towards a small village that clustered at the side of the valley. She found herself remembering a family holiday they'd once spent in Cornwall, when she was just fifteen, and her father had taken her on a tour of Daphne du Maurier's world. It had been so thrilling imagining all her favourite characters on the hilltops, in the creeks and valleys, galloping across the moors, climbing the cliffs and sailing over the horizon. She wondered how often he'd recalled those exhilarating days in the years since he'd left, and if he'd remembered them with as much emotion as she was feeling now.

Noticing that Fen was signalling to go left, Julia hit her indicator too, and looped around a giant horse chestnut to turn into an open driveway where they bumped over a cattle grid and stream. A winding dirt track led on to a rambling old farmhouse with late-blooming roses around the porch, and a roughly tended lawn at the front. There were a couple of cars in the yard, both being washed by a young lad in overalls and wellies, who turned at the sound of someone arriving.

Fen waved out, but kept on going, around the side of the house, past an old wooden barn and a field straggled with sheep, following the track as it snaked off into a small wood. Here it ran alongside the stream for a while, before crossing over a quaint little bridge and emerging into a sweeping

grassy glade where the mill house and its garden nestled in a perfect pastoral setting.

As Julia drove towards it she felt her heart turn over, for she could hardly have imagined anything more picturesque or inviting than the sleepy, looking whitewashed mill with its grey stone walls and grey slate roof, and magnificent black wooden wheel that churned the water in the stream beside it. Behind was an extremely grand red maple, and a gently sloping lawn that blended into the fields beyond, which stretched on out to the horizon to meet a seemingly endless sky.

Fen came to a stop on a patch of gravel that was laid out in front of the house, where three white wooden steps rose to a white wooden deck with ivy-clad balustrades and brimming pots of pansies, leading to the mill's front door. Julia pulled up beside her, and feeling slightly dazed by the sheer magic of the place, sat where she was for a moment, drinking it all in.