Page 82 of Never Gonna Happen

‘You’ve never taken to me, since the day I came for an interview. I’ve tried really hard; I’m good at my job, I’m respectful of this house and your space. So what’s your problem?’

Another silence, which Emily waited out patiently. She wasn’t moving until she got an answer, even if that meant sitting there all day.

Anna snapped the paper shut and briskly folded it. ‘You’re not Andrea,’ she said. ‘She was my best friend for nearly twenty-five years.’

Emily said nothing, waiting for Anna to continue.

‘I thought she might come back when her mother was over the worst, but she’s decided to stay in Somerset. But even if she wanted to come back she couldn’t, because Mr Hunter’s got YOU now.’ The ‘you’ was delivered with as much venom as Anna could muster, but Emily could tell that her heart was no longer in it.

‘Why did you want her to come back?’ she asked gently.

Anna looked up, her expression bleak. ‘Andrea and I were a partnership. We ran this place like a military operation. George is gone, Andrea is gone, and now I’ve got nobody.’

‘Who’s George?’ asked Emily.

‘He was my husband,’ snapped Anna, like Emily should have known this. ‘He was the head gardener here. So much of the Bowford gardens was his design; I still see him everywhere.’

‘When you say he’s gone, do you mean he . . . died?’ Emily knew she had to tread carefully if she was going to have this out with Anna without her storming off.

Anna nodded, her eyes filling with angry tears. ‘Seven years ago, we were married over thirty years. Andrea helped me through that, but now she’s left me too.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Emily said.

Anna made a huffing noise, like she didn’t really believe her. ‘And I absolutely don’t approve of you and Jamie,’ she added. ‘We’re staff, we shouldn’t get involved with the family. It’s not right.’

Emily said nothing as Anna stood up. She thought she was going to leave, but instead she went to the kettle and made herself another coffee, then returned to the sofa and sat down.

‘Tell me about when you met George,’ said Emily.

Anna eyed her suspiciously. ‘Why?’

Emily shrugged. ‘Because I’m interested.’

Anna said nothing for a while, clearly torn between wanting to talk about the love of her life, but also wishing Emily wasn’t the one asking. ‘It was my first week here,’ she said with a sigh. ‘Forty years ago, nearly. We had a lot more staff then; old Mr Hunter was in charge.’

‘It must have felt very different.’

‘It did. The house was always full of people, not like now.’ She glared at Emily, like she was somehow responsible for reduced visitor numbers.

‘Were you the housekeeper then?’ asked Emily, desperately trying to keep Anna talking.

‘Of course not,’ snapped Anna. ‘I was younger than you. I did a bit of everything then – laundry, cleaning, cooking, helping out with the children when they came along. One of my jobs was to collect vegetables from the walled garden, so I used to see George every day.’ She gave a misty-eyed smile, lost in memories. ‘I knew he was for me the first time I met him.’

‘What did that feel like?’ asked Emily.

Anna looked at her suspiciously, like she was being led into a trap. Emily kept her expression soft, wondering how long it was since Anna had last had a proper woman-to-woman conversation. ‘I thought about him all the time,’ she said quietly, a faraway look in her eyes. ‘I couldn’t wait to go out to see him. I started doing the flowers in the house, so I could see him more often. George loved roses most of all, he spent hours in the rose garden. It’s still a special place to me.’

Emily smiled. ‘And what if he’d been family?’

Anna’s head snapped round to glare at Emily. ‘What do you mean?’

‘If George had been part of the Hunter family rather than the gardener. What then?’

Anna looked affronted, like the idea was impossible. ‘I’d have stayed away from him.’

‘I’m sure you would. But would you have felt any differently about him?’

Anna stared at Emily for a long moment. ‘I don’t know.’