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With the last of the tears now wiped from her eyes, Hope was able to focus on him properly. The front of his grey T-shirt was covered in blood and various other bodily fluids, the knees of his old jeans filthy from kneeling in the dirt. ‘What happened?’
‘Blossom decided 3 a.m. was the perfect time to go into labour.’ Rhys gave a rueful shrug as he referred to one of his prize-winning sows. ‘I thought I’d be early enough to clean up and get changed before you were awake, but everyone seems to have decided to get up with the larks.’
‘We’re breaking ground today, so I wanted to try and get myself sorted before the builders arrive.’
Rhys raised a mucky hand as though to slap himself in the forehead, only remembering at the last minute where it had been not too long ago. ‘I completely forgot.’ Comprehension dawned in his eyes. ‘That’s why the mothers are fussing around in the kitchen.’
‘They decided to make me breakfast.’ She knew she sounded ungrateful but there was a fine line between mothering and smothering and just lately it felt like they’d tipped into the latter. She hung the towel back on the rack. ‘I’ll use the shower in Mum’s room.’
Rhys looked relieved. ‘Are you sure?’
Hope wrinkled her nose towards him. ‘Your need is much greater than mine.’
‘Gee, thanks!’ Rhys’s laughter followed Hope along the landing as she made her way to her mother’s room and the tiny en suite her uncle, Ziggy, had installed about twelve years ago in what had once been a walk-in storage space. He’d built it about the same time as he’d decamped downstairs and converted the rarely used dining room into a bedroom and bathroom for himself, having decried the inability to get into the main family bathroom now there were two teenagers in the house. Rhys had moved out of his tiny box room on the third floor and into Ziggy’s room, leaving the top floor of the farmhouse to his parents.
Hope paused to look out of the window. Her mother’s room was at the front of the farmhouse, offering a gorgeous view across the sprawling parkland of the estate towards the Palladian-style mansion that dominated the landscape. Built in the early seventeenth century and altered and extended by many subsequent generations, the family had decamped from Stourton Hall, or just ‘the Hall’ as everyone referred to it, when the four Travers siblings had decided it was time for radical change. Their father – Hope and Rhys’s grandfather, Monty – had shown zero interest in taking up the reins of estate management from his own father and things had grown rather neglected under his brief spell in charge.
Zap and Ziggy had been barely out of university when they’d confronted Monty about the perilous state of the family finances, not to mention the leaky roof and ancient electrics which were a fire disaster waiting to happen. With barely a murmur of protest, Monty had signed responsibility for the estate over to his four children and he and his wife, Alice, had loaded up their worldly goods in the back of their VW camper and headed off to explore the world. They rattled their way home every now and again, staying long enough to cause chaos and renew their prescriptions before off they went again on a new adventure.
It had been during their last visit home, a riotous and very merry Christmas, that Hope had decided she needed a space of her own. She adored her family, but some days she just wanted to shut the door on everyone and everything, which was simply impossible when you lived under the same roof with five other adults – seven when her grandparents landed. Hope cast one last look at the Hall. When she’d been a little girl, she’d loved to explore the opulent guest suites and imagine one of them was her bedroom. Now, for all they lived on top of each other in the farmhouse, Hope was grateful that her uncles and her mother had seized the opportunity and made the most of the family assets. Not only had they saved the Hall from potential ruin, they’d created a huge range of opportunities, for both the family and many of the residents of nearby Stourton-in-the-Vale. Now it was Hope’s turn to claim a little corner of the estate for herself. She checked the clock on her mother’s bedside table and gasped when she saw the time. So much for getting ahead of things, the builders would be here in less than an hour!
2
Thirty minutes later, a half-eaten bacon roll in one hand and a thermos cup of coffee in the other, Hope rushed out the back door of the farmhouse, calling thanks to her mum and Rowena. Sooty and Sweep, her pair of black Labradors, shot out into the yard, determined to join her. It cost her the remains of her roll, but she managed to coax them back inside with the help of Ziggy, who’d been woken by all the kerfuffle just as she’d feared. With a quick apology to him for the noise, she managed to slip back out the door and shut it before her two hellion pups could stage a second breakout. They normally joined her wherever she went and even had baskets in the corner of her office, but there was no way she could take them to the worksite – it just wasn’t safe. Still, their desperate yowls and whines at being left behind shredded her heart and she promised to make time to take them on an extra-long walk later.
She made her way over to the small fleet of black Range Rovers, each bearing the discreet logo her Uncle Ziggy had designed on the bonnet and each of the front doors. He’d chosen a sprig of greenery with a bright purple berry next to the words Juniper Meadows in a swirling calligraphy font – the name he and the others had opted for when rebranding the estate. They used it for everything, from labelling the award-winning gin Zap made at their private distillery, to the luxury toiletries available in every guest room in the hotel and spa. It was even on the packaging of the free-range organic meat and dairy products from the estate’s farm, which Rhys managed. Hope pointed the set of keys she’d grabbed off the kitchen table and aimed it at the row of cars. The orange hazard lights on the one nearest the gate flashed.
By the time she’d secured her coffee in the drinks holder and adjusted the seat so she could reach the pedals – the perils of being five foot four in a family of six-foot-tall men – Rhys had appeared to unlock the gate for her. His border collie, Samson, sat smartly at his heels and Hope could only sigh at how well-behaved her cousin’s dog was. She’d kept meaning to sign Sooty and Sweep up for some training classes, but that was even further down her to-do list than finding time to get a proper haircut. The sight of Rhys’s other dog, a miniature dachshund named Delilah, nestled in his arms like the spoiled princess she was cheered Hope up. He might be the dog whisperer when it came to Samson, but Delilah was a diva from the tip of her nose to the end of her stubby little tail. ‘Thanks for saving me a job,’ she called to Rhys through the open passenger window.
‘It’s no hassle. I’m on my way back to check on Blossom and her litter, make sure they’re all bonding.’
‘Take some photos for—’
‘The Instagram page,’ he said, cutting her off with a laugh. He raised a hand to pat the phone in his top pocket. ‘Don’t worry, you can rely on me.’
The truth of those words struck her heart like an arrow shot from Robin Hood’s bow. Eighteen months older than her, Rhys had been a big brother to her in every way that mattered. They’d been inseparable. Two musketeers. He’d been there to help her with everything from learning to tie her shoelaces, to chasing off unsuitable boyfriends. She hoped her moving out wouldn’t change things between them. ‘You’ll come to dinner all the time, won’t you?’
‘I’ll be there so much, you’ll be sick of the sight of me,’ he promised with a grin. Leaning down, he rested one arm on the open window of the car, the other still holding Delilah securely against his chest. ‘You’ve got this.’
It wasn’t much of a pep talk, but it was everything she needed to hear. ‘Thanks, Rhys. I’d better get going.’ He stepped back and kept one hand on the gate until she was safely on the other side. Though she knew he would lock it properly, she still watched via the rear-view mirror until he’d secured it and wandered off towards the barn with a wave, Samson close as a shadow. Only then did she turn her attention to the road ahead.
Hope glanced left in the direction of the Hall, then to the right, which would take her towards the main entrance of the estate. The roads around their grounds were never very busy, but it was one of the habits drilled into her when Ziggy had been teaching her to drive, and she’d never forgotten it. More than one visitor to the spa had found themselves nose-to-nose with Rhys’s prize herd of cows as they crossed from the pasture to the milking shed.
As she rounded the bend and turned off the long chestnut-lined drive, heading towards the east gate which they used for deliveries and other trade visitors, she focused her attention on the day ahead. The heavy equipment was arriving today and with the compound already set up, she hoped they’d be digging the foundations before lunchtime. She was still some distance away from the east entrance when she spotted a flash of bright yellow and her heart skipped a beat. By the time she’d pulled up in front of the gate, the huge digger dominated her view, its bucket raised high against the pale blue of the early-morning sky. It’s really happening. Her stomach was suddenly a fluttering mass, and she began to regret the bacon roll. Get a grip.
She’d made the decision to project manage the house build herself. It should’ve been a walk in the park for the operations manager of the family gin distillery, but somehow, she kept finding herself on the wrong foot. The proposed site manager from the first building company she’d spoken to had called her ‘Babes’ and waved off her request to see his construction plan. The second firm had been impossible to pin down on anything to do with dates, or more importantly costs, and had just kept reassuring her they could do it within budget. She hadn’t been reassured. Thankfully, the firm she’d finally signed a contract with had proven sensible and professional, dealing with all of her enquiries – and one or two last-minute panics on her part – with polite and timely responses. Hope pressed a hand to her roiling stomach. Throwing up in front of the site team would not make a great impression. You’ve got this.
Having performed a quick three-point turn in front of the gate so she’d be facing in the right direction to lead the crew through the grounds, Hope climbed out of the car and set her shoulders straight. The first person she saw was Declan, the site manager, leaning against the bonnet of his truck. He straightened up the moment he saw her, and her nerves began to settle. ‘Good morning! I hope I haven’t kept you all waiting?’ she called as she pressed the remote control that operated the gates.
‘No, you’re fine,’ Declan reassured her as he stepped forward and offered her his hand. ‘We’ve only been here a few minutes. I wanted to get the digger off the roads before the local traffic gets busy. The last thing we want is to annoy people before we’ve even started.’
‘That’s thoughtful of you.’ Hope offered him the remote control. ‘Here, while I remember. I’ve signed it out on your behalf for the duration of the project. If you need any more then let me know and I’ll speak to my uncle.’
‘Cheers.’ Declan tucked the remote into his pocket before he turned to gesture towards the small convoy of vehicles lined up behind his truck. ‘One more might be handy in case I’m delayed, but there’s no rush for it. I’ll introduce you to everyone once we get to the site, if that’s all right with you?’
‘Sounds good.’ Hope tilted her head to see past Declan and waved to acknowledge a couple of the crew, who each raised a hand in greeting. ‘Let’s get going, shall we?’
Ten minutes later, they were parked up in the secure zone Declan had overseen the building of the previous week. Two large portacabins formed one corner of the compound – a site office and a canteen/welfare unit. Hope had been shown around them and been impressed with the facilities. A bank of portable toilets stood on the far side of the canteen and a large metal storage container for tools and equipment completed the set-up. Through the metal fencing, the coloured flags tied to the stakes marking out the site of what would soon be Hope’s new home fluttered in the light summer breeze. Her gaze wandered from the pristine grass to the huge oak tree some distance away and the jumble of fallen stones, half-overgrown, that littered the ground beneath it. The remains were of an old chapel according to family legend, but there was no information about who had built it, or when. It had always been Hope’s favourite spot on the estate and one of the reasons she’d chosen this little plot to build her own home. She turned her attention back to the little flags, trying to overlay the architect’s vision on the blank turf. As this was a private part of the estate, she’d decided against any kind of perimeter fence so she’d have an uninterrupted view of the oak tree and the ruins through what would be her back patio windows.
