Autumn Leaves at Mill Grange by Jenny Kane (the little red hen ebook .txt) 📗

would be in three parts, Tom had almost turned it down, convinced he’d never get through the initial stage, let alone the other two. Now, as he strolled through the quintessentially Devonian village – despite it being in Somerset – Tom was increasingly glad he hadn’t bottled out.

Moira, a mine of local information, had chatted happily about what Upwich had to offer, from the tea rooms opposite, to the local produce in the shop, the nearness of Exmoor’s endless beauty and even, she’d added with a flourish, the village school.

It was the village school comment that had caught his attention, and as he walked, Tom found himself picturing Dylan there. He wasn’t sure what the primary schools in Tiverton would be like, but they had to be better than the place he’d have gone to if Sue had stayed in Swindon, where Ofsted had imposed special measures.

He’d never understood why Sue had said she’d be happy to send their son there. But there were a lot of things about his ex that he didn’t understand. Like her sudden move to Devon. At least that was something he approved of; her decision to stay in one place now that Dylan had reached school age.

Pausing to watch a pheasant cross the track in front of him, Tom smiled. Dylan would love to watch the local wildlife and explore the grounds of his new workplace. He was seeing his son at the weekend; perhaps they’d have a trip out here, if Sam and Tina didn’t mind.

Rounding the final bend in the manor’s driveway, pleased that Sam had wanted him to start work straight away, Tom found himself wondering if the woman with the shock of red curly hair would be there today.

She looked great in dungarees.

*

Tina was already wishing Thea hadn’t left for Cornwall. If ever she’d needed her friend’s calming presence, it was now. ‘I can’t be ready by tomorrow.’

Yes I can. I can do today’s and tomorrow’s Trust work today. I can move the meeting I’ve got with Mabel about the guests’ meals from Thursday to Friday, and then I can wash my hair and have a bath. I’ll decide on clothes while I’m in the bath.

Having sternly addressed her reflection in the age-spotted bathroom mirror, Tina’s mind filled with the closed expression on Sam’s face when she’d admitted she felt left out of his previous life.

Maybe I won’t go with him tomorrow.

The idea filled her with sadness. Even though she loved Sam, and she was sure he loved her, she hadn’t seen him make any effort to battle his claustrophobia for weeks, and every time she mentioned anything that pertained to his life before Mill Grange, he clammed up.

She asked her reflection. ‘Do I want to spend my life with someone I don’t know?’

Thirty-Two

September 23rd

Thea could have kissed her sat nav as it confidently announced, “You have reached your destination,” having led her to the Guron Estate in one go, without a single invented left turn or fictitious roundabout.

Her straightforward journey, however, had not prevented nerves from building in Thea’s chest as she edged closer to Shaun’s current place of work. Swinging her car through the estate’s wide-open double iron gateway, she found herself proceeding along a winding driveway that made Mill Grange’s look like it wasn’t even trying. The path afforded stunning views over the edges of Bodmin Moor, its very bleakness providing its main appeal. Thea was hardly surprised that so many timeless novels had been set there, an opinion that was enforced when the land abruptly sloped downwards, and Guron House appeared.

What Thea saw before her was the side view of a granite mansion with a fascinating mix of Elizabethan and Victorian architecture that formed a stunning landmark on the moor’s edge.

Negotiating another curve in the drive, Thea crawled the car to a halt as the front view of the house presented itself, along with the excavation itself. Shaun hadn’t been kidding when he said it had taken over the majority of the front garden. ‘Whatever made the original builder put the house so close to the church… assuming it wasn’t already lost?’

Her historical ponderings ended as quickly as they began, as she saw the unmistakable figure of Shaun in the distance. He was rising from a trench and moving towards a camera, which was being walked slowly backwards by its operator.

Her palms tingled with anxiety-triggered pins and needles; Thea suddenly didn’t know what to do. She didn’t want to risk interrupting to the filming, and holding things up further. On the other hand, she didn’t want to stay where she was; hovering in her car like some sort of wheeled stalker.

Heading for the lay-by about a hundred yards nearer to the house, she pulled in and parked. Hooking her bag onto her shoulder, Thea took two steps towards the site, and then turned back. Taking a pad and pen from her bag, she scribbled a note to leave in the window screen saying who she was, why she’d abandoned her car, and where she was going.

Pushing images of the Sophie she’d conjured – stunningly attractive and endlessly charming – to the back of her mind, Thea strode forward, scanning the view for friendly faces. If she couldn’t go directly to Shaun, then perhaps she could find Ajay and Andy. With each step closer, the archaeologists and television crew looked less like oversized action figures and more like men and women at work. Guron House, meanwhile, maintained its majesty however close she got; towering over the older construction that was being revealed beneath its shadow.

Wishing she knew what she was going to say when she met Sophie, Thea slowed her pace. Last night, fired up by her indignation, Thea was convinced she needed to get to Shaun as soon as possible. Now she was here, she wished she’d taken time to think about how she was going to tackle ‘the Sophie situation’.

Suddenly, she heard Shaun’s voice carrying on the breeze towards her. Thea caught