LITMIR.BIZ

      Elizabeth and Robert were both carried back in time as they walked around Stonehurst Farm with Briney Meadows later that afternoon. The caretaker had worked there for fifty years and had known them when they were children.

      In every room the windows sparkled, the floors shone, the antiques gleamed. The carpets were fresh, looked newly cleaned, and there was not a speck of dust anywhere. Nothing was out of place; the house was perfect.

      ‘I feel as if I were here only yesterday,’ Elizabeth said, turning a beaming face to Briney. ‘It’s exactly the same as it was when I was a little girl.’

      ‘Aye, it is indeed, Miss Turner, but then Miss Grace Rose is a stickler, she always kept it up, and made sure we did. She was a perfectionist in those days, and she still is. On the phone to me all the time, issuing orders.’

      ‘I didn’t know she still took an interest in the house, Briney,’ Elizabeth said, sounding surprised, looking at him swiftly.

      ‘Oh, she does, Miss Turner! It’s thanks to her supervision that the house has been very well maintained and cared for over the years. And the gardens as well. I’m sorry that Alison, the gardener, isn’t here today. She’d be proud to show you around, and the sunken garden is looking lovely at the moment. You see, it’s a bit of a mild winter this year, so far anyway.’

      ‘We noticed the gardens when we drove in,’ Robert remarked, ‘and they’re spectacular – all those lovely shrubs and bushes and the copper beeches … just breathtaking.’

      Briney nodded, beaming, obviously pleased by this praise, and as he stood there looking at Robert he remembered the boy he had been and Briney smiled inside. Now here he was, a grown man, so tall and handsome, and before he could stop himself he blurted out, ‘No frogs in your pocket today, sir, eh?’

      Robert threw back his head and roared with laughter. ‘What a good memory you have, Briney. I was rather keen on frogs when I was a schoolboy, wasn’t I?’

      ‘That’s a fact, sir. You found them fascinating, and you were always fiddling around in the pond. There was many a time I thought you’d fall in.’

      ‘You caught a tadpole for me there once and put it in a jam jar,’ Elizabeth interjected. ‘I bet you don’t remember, though.’

      ‘’Course I do … it was a gift for you, one of my first.’ He chuckled as they stepped out onto the front steps. ‘And how on earth could I forget that most glorious tadpole?’

      Elizabeth laughed, and said, ‘Thanks for showing us around.’ She shook Briney’s brown gnarled hand and went outside.

      ‘My pleasure, Miss … you both make me feel young again … bring back memories, that you do.’

      Robert grasped Briney’s hand firmly and shook it. ‘Yes, it’s been a bit of a trip down memory lane for all of us, Briney. Take care now.’

      Briney waved as they walked towards the flagged terrace, and they waved back before striking out towards the sunken garden.

      At one moment Elizabeth said, ‘I noticed Briney didn’t mention Mary, but then I’m not really surprised. Toby said they didn’t like each other, and he mentioned that Briney was respectful to her but kept his distance.’

      ‘He’s a nice old chap, the salt of the earth,’ Robert responded and then looked at her, frowning. ‘I wonder why your aunt Grace Rose is so involved with the house? You once told me she had given it to your father.’

      ‘That was my understanding.’ Elizabeth shrugged. ‘Maybe she just loves it because she grew up there, and lived there as an adult, and after her marriage to Charles Morran. Incidentally, Kat’s right. I think the property’s worth a small fortune.’

      ‘Do you plan to sell it?’ Robert asked.

      ‘I don’t know. I can’t very well live in all these houses, now, can I? Stonehurst Farm is beautiful. However, I’ve always loved Waverley Court the best, and it does happen to be closer to London. I can’t sell Ravenscar, you know. It’s entailed, and must pass to my heirs when I die.’

      ‘Hey, no talk of dying today! You and I have a lot of living to do yet, my girl!’

      ‘That’s true, we do, Robin. Together.’

      He threw her a surreptitious look, but made no comment.

      NINE

      Grace Rose had always had a flair for clothes, an individual unique style of dressing, and on this Sunday afternoon she looked quite wonderful, Elizabeth thought. Her marvellous abundance of luxuriant silver hair was stylishly coiffed, she was well made-up, and her outfit truly caught one’s attention. She wore a loose, raglan-sleeved jacket of purple silk brocade with a purple silk camisole and matching silk trousers. Ropes of large amethyst and turquoise beads hung around her neck, and small amethyst studs were fastened to her ears.

      As she sat sipping her tea and studying her, Elizabeth found it hard to believe Grace Rose was ninety-six. Her looks belied this, and so did her mental capacities. There were no signs of senility or dementia – in fact, just the opposite. Grace Rose had a keen mind, total comprehension, and her dry wit was still intact. It was true that Grace Rose was a very old lady, the same age as the century, but her spirit was forever young. Elizabeth was well aware her aunt kept herself constantly busy, continued to work for her favourite charities, handled many of her own business affairs and was well informed about everything going on around her.

      Putting down her teacup, and leaning forward from the waist, Elizabeth said, ‘I’ve never seen you looking better, Aunt Grace Rose. You’re just beautiful.’

      ‘Thank you, and I might say the same about you, my dear. Those russet colours really suit you, Elizabeth. I think that outfit is by Hermès. I used to favour those colours myself a long time ago.’ Grace Rose paused, then asked, ‘I wonder if you would do me a favour?’

      ‘Of course.’

      ‘Would you mind calling me Grace Rose? The way you did when you were a child and a young woman. In the last year or so you’ve been adding aunt, and it does make me feel rather old.’

      Elizabeth chuckled, answered emphatically, ‘Grace Rose it shall be!’

      ‘Thank you.’ Settling back against the needlepoint cushions on the sofa, Grace Rose focused on Elizabeth, studying her as she herself had just been studied. After a moment, she announced, ‘Never let them see you sweat.’

      Taken aback by this Elizabeth gaped at her, not quite sure how to respond.

      Grace Rose, who never missed a thing, was fully aware that she had succeeded in truly startling her great-niece, as she had fully intended to do, and she smiled inwardly. Then that smile surfaced, as she explained, ‘That’s what my father used to say to me … “Never let them see you sweat.” And he never did. And you won’t either, will you, Elizabeth? Tomorrow. At the board meeting.’

      ‘I certainly won’t,’ Elizabeth managed, aware that Grace Rose knew about the board meeting because she was a shareholder.

      Grace Rose continued, ‘My father had another rule he lived by in business, and it was this: Never display weakness, never show face. He once told me that his cousin, Neville Watkins, had drilled this into him when he was starting out in business at the age of nineteen.

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