‘She’s right.’ Mary nodded, and Gino sat next to her on the steps as if to make the point.
Henry untied the string and slipped his hand into the brown paper wrapping, feeling a frame inside, wondering what the picture might be.
Ava wrung her hands. ‘You don’t have to keep the frame. It’s all I had at the shop.’
Henry paused to listen but as he went to resume unwrapping the gift, Ava spoke again.
‘And if you don’t like it, that’s fine. Please don’t feel you have to keep it. Well, you should keep it. Not keeping it would be rude. But you don’t have to display it or—’
‘Ava! Will you let the man open his present,’ Mary interjected.
‘Yes, sorry, go on.’
Henry pulled the paper off the parcel, his eyes transfixed by what he saw.
‘I remember this day.’ His eyes welled with emotion at the picture, sketched by Ava on a hot summer’s day, too long ago.
‘I thought you should have a portrait of you, the real you, when you were younger.’ Ava’s voice betrayed her nerves and Henry felt his chest swell.
‘You’re amazing, thank you.’ He walked to Ava, kissing her in thanks, the frame held carefully in his hand.
‘Ah hum, can we see?’ Mary asked.
Henry turned the picture. It was a sketch of him in the woods, he must have been around fifteen, his hair and clothes messy. He and Ava had been foraging for blackberries, staining their skin and clothes before they decided to wash it all off by skinny-dipping in the lake.
‘Wow! Ava, that’s great. It really is.’
‘You’re very talented.’ Gino echoed Mary’s sentiment.
Ava blushed, the colour of her hair.
Chapter Forty-Seven
Five Months Later
Ava sat outside the back of Dapplebury House, sketching the view. Granger, Myrtle and Blossom played in the distance. It was November, and the air had a bite to it, but Ava didn’t care. She wanted to do a series of landscapes that reflected the grounds in each season. Dapplebury House wasn’t her official home, but it was safe to say she spent most of her time there, and it was beginning to feel like home. A very big, very old, beautifully situated home and while by Christmas some of it would be opened up to the public, she knew Henry intended to keep some of the grounds private — a sanctuary and personal space for them.
‘Are you ready?’
Ava turned and smiled as Henry stepped outside.
‘Dermot’s expecting us shortly.’
‘Yes. Sorry. I’m putting this away now.’
‘What about the dogs? Shall I put them in?’
‘Your mum is taking them for a walk.’ Ava smiled. Lady Bramlington had become a friend. She could still be feisty, but generally as a result of her being passionate in her beliefs, much like Mary. Ava could see why she and her parents had been friends.
Walking round to the old stables, now aptly dedicated to the memory of Lily Flynn, with an All Critters Great and Small sign hanging proudly above the door, Ava and Henry waited for Mary to appear.
‘Sorry I’m ready. There was an incident with—’
‘Is that blood on your top?’ Ava looked at the red stains on Mary’s sweatshirt.
‘No, it’s jam. There was an incident with a doughnut.’
‘What was the incident?’ Henry asked.
