I look around with new eyes. The room needs cleaning but it’s not too bad. And the windows. The windows are incredible. Each is divided into a lot of squares except the top. The semi-circle under the arch is made of stained-glass. It makes colours the light streaming in warm shades of yellow, orange and pink.
“I think it’s a beautiful room. And if it snows, we’ll have the most amazing scenery.” I walk around, planning it in my head. “We can arrange the tables in one long line. And if we set up smaller stations behind for the serving dishes. I walk around my heels tapping on the wood floor. “Just imagine this mopped and maybe waxed so it shines. We need Christmas trees in both corners.”
“We can cut you a couple of cedars from Darling Wood. He points through the window towards the east to where the edge of a forest is just visible.
It could be an incredible view. “Why did they call the room, orangery?”
“It’s a sun trap. Back in the 19thcentury, it was very fashionable to grow citrus trees and ornamental palms aroundelegant sofas.” He walks back to the window. “Can you imagine it with the restored garden, all green and beautiful in summer?”
I can, actually. As soon as he started talking about it, a picture started colouring itself in my head. Like biscuits baking and starting to smell divine. “I can understand why you feel so strongly about the restoration. And it will be beautiful.” I go to stand beside him and we both look out over the garden. “As soon as you get a gardener, it will be transformed, I’m just sorry I won’t be here to see it.”
“Leonie?” He turns to face me.
“Yes?”
“You understand how Kendric House works. I can’t restore anything, I don’t have a penny.”
“Yes. Hannen told me about this. That’s why everyone is a partner not an employee or tenant.”
“Partner yes, or profit-participants, although investor would be more accurate.”
I’m not stupid; it’s clear what he’s trying to tell me. And it’s not like it hasn’t occurred to me.
It’s a great idea.
“I’d love to open a café. Imagine spending my days here. Baking delicious biscuits and making people their favourite drinks. If I had any kind of money, I’d seriously consider it. This room is begging to be brought back to life.” I let my eyes roam around the orangery.
The magnificent windows, the stained-glass, the light, the light, the light!
“You know,” Evan’s voice cuts into my imaginings. “Raff and I have spoken about this.”
Instantly I’m alert. “About the orangery?”
“No, not the orangery, but about the restoration. He has some interesting ideas for fundraising. It might take time, but he was very enthusiastic.”
It’s the first I hear of this. But then Raff was busy most days working side by side on clearing out, redecorating, fixing. They’d have talked about the building the way men like to chat when they have hammers in their hands.
“Maybe you can talk to him and see if he can help.” Evan suggests.
Does he imagine Raff is still the same man, just a few hours away? Evan has no idea what it’s like on a film set. What a different world it is, a world where only the film exists, nothing else. You wake up before dawn to get your exercise done before you go into make-up, hair and wardrobe for hours. You’re surrounded by people all the time, all of them talking to you, moving you around…until someone removes your make-up and you can shower, eat and fall into bed. Kendric House must feel like a hundred light years away.
If funds have to be raised, I’d have to do it. And I have nothing. Not even an overdraft, because when I was eighteen and opened my bank account, I told them I didn’t want an overdraft facility.
It’s how I was raised. Dad never trusted loans. If he couldn’t afford something, he either worked overtime or went without When he wasn’t quoting the old saying, Cut your coat to suit your cloth, then he quoted Shakespeare.
Neither a borrower nor a lender be.
For loan oft loses both itself and friend,
and borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry.
Evan leaves me in the orangery, the long room that opens out on a wide terrace with steps down to a garden.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Tuesday 20th December. The Glyn, Afternoon.
I could hate Evan. On my drive to The Glyn, my mind keeps wandering back to the orangery,
