It was so quiet.
She took her coffee to the utilitarian table for two the movers had left by the French windows. Her mother still hadn’t been in touch, a fact that Emily was trying not to let make her feel anxious. It was early still; she’d ring Fiona again before she walked to work.
It was surprisingly peaceful to sit and sip her coffee, gazing out at the untidy little garden. She watched, entranced, as a robin plucked a fat, wriggling worm from the grass and hopped away delightedly. She’d have to mow the lawn, of course, and she didn’t have a lawn mower. Perhaps she could borrow one.
Perhaps she’d even plant some flowers, or get a couple of those terracotta planters to put by the French windows. The possibility made something unfurl in Emily, a fragile tendril taking root and starting to grow. This cottage could become far more of a home than her boxy flat in Earl’s Court ever had been. More of a home than she’d ever had before, moving from bedsit to rental and back again, all through her childhood.
Nearly half an hour had passed with Emily simply staring into space, and, realising the time with a flash of discomfiture, she sprang into action. It wasn’t at all like her to sit and daydream.
In any case, she had plenty of time to get ready, thanks to the lack of a forty-minute commute, and by half past eight she’d eaten, exercised, showered and dressed. She tried to reach her mother again, trying to tamp down on her instinctive panic when Fiona’s phone just kept ringing. They were probably both asleep. She’d try again at lunch.
The morning was still fresh and dewy as Emily started walking back up the drive to Willoughby Manor, her navy court shoes clicking on the pavement. She suspected she was overdressed in her silk blouse and skirt, but this was what she always wore on Mondays, and despite the cleaning work she knew the office needed, she really wasn’t a casual clothes kind of girl.
“Hi!” Alice greeted her with her usual easy enthusiasm after Emily lifted the big brass lion’s head knocker and let it reverberate through the house. “You don’t have to knock. I’ll give you a key in any case, but feel free to just come in and get started.” Her gaze swept down Emily’s outfit but she said nothing. Alice was, Emily noticed, wearing jeans and a jumper that had a ragged hem. Both she and Henry looked as if they were now dressing from a charity shop, but Emily liked her tailored clothes, many with designer labels she’d worked hard for. A glossy hairstyle and a pair of heels felt like armour.
“Come on through,” Alice said as she led her back to the morning room Emily had surveyed last night. Now the heavy velvet curtains had been drawn back to let in all the light, and the room seemed enormous, with its high ceiling and huge windows. It was also chock full of junk.
“I’m sorry we haven’t tidied it up,” Alice said with a grimace of apology. “But Henry was insistent. He said you’d want to be in charge of your own domain.”
Emily couldn’t help but smile at that. It was true, even if she wouldn’t have minded a few less bits and pieces filling up the room.
“Where is Henry?” she asked as she put her handbag down on the only available surface, a bookshelf by the door.
“He has a meeting with a potential donor in Reading. He travels so much now. I think I see him less than I did when he worked in London.” Alice gave a little laugh, but Emily saw the flicker of unhappiness in her eyes. Not quite a fairy tale, then.
“That’s understandable, at this stage. I’m sure he’ll scale back once the foundation is up and running properly.”
“I hope so.” Alice brightened hopefully. “Would you like a coffee? I’ve just put the kettle on.”
Emily pictured it for a moment—the two of them at that big kitchen table, the Aga and the cat, cups of coffee and maybe even some freshly baked scones or muffins. Alice seemed like that type of person. The sunshine would be streaming through the windows, and it would all be so very homely.
“I really should get on,” she said, trying to make her tone an apology. “But perhaps later, for elevenses?”
“All right.” Alice gave her one of her rallying smiles. “I’ll come back then and liberate you from all this mess.”
After Alice had left, Emily let out a breath and surveyed the room. It really was a mess, and her fingers were practically twitching in her desperation to start cleaning. She hated a messy room. Hated it with a passion that she knew bordered on compulsion. She couldn’t wait to get everything sorted and spritzed.
The hours passed surprisingly quickly as Emily began to go through the room, sorting papers, piling books, and heaving boxes of junk out into the hall for someone named Jace to deal with, or so Alice had assured her when Emily had asked what to do with all the stuff.
“Wow, you’ve done so much already,” Alice exclaimed as she came up at eleven. “It already looks so much better.”
“Yes, it does, doesn’t it?” Emily wiped a strand of hair from her cheek. She was feeling a bit dusty and dirty, but at least the room had been emptied. She’d finish wiping down all the surfaces after her coffee.
“Do you want to come to the kitchen?” Alice asked shyly. “The kettle’s on and I’ve made some muffins…”
Just as Emily had suspected. “That would be lovely, thank you.” She wasn’t particularly looking forward to a heart-to-heart with Alice, but she was desperate for a coffee, and she couldn’t bear disappointing her yet again. It felt too mean.
The kitchen was just as Emily remembered, cosy and warm and filled with sunlight. The cat was curled up in
