‘I’ve known him for two weeks.’ Jess frowned, ignoring Dorathy’s request for discretion. ‘And he’s already confided in me about …’ She lowered her voice. ‘About the financial situation of the estate, about what he wants from his life versus what’s expected of him. About all sorts of things.’
‘Do I have to put my fingers in my ears, Jess?’
‘You need to understand – they all do. He could walk away, and they’d lose everything: their homes, their businesses, the community. The whole lot. But he’s trying to make it right. You know what state the castle is in. And some of the cottages. Is it fair to blame him for that when he hasn’t even been here for ten years? That’s on his father. The debts? You have no idea. And even though he had a far happier life in London, doing what he really wanted to do, instead of selling up and running away he’s going to try to make it all work. God only knows why, if this is the way he’s going to be treated. And even after everything, he wants to offer the choir the use of the music room, for practices, but he didn’t know how to say it to them.’ Jess came up for air, aware she might have got carried away and said too much.
Then Mrs Keel had smiled, drawn in a deep breath and slipped a hand around Jess’s shoulders. ‘If I were in trouble, lady, I’d want you on my team. That’s for sure. Now, go on with you, back to the castle where you belong, and you leave this lot to me.’
Jess didn’t know what Dorathy might have said to the rest of the villagers, but she’d obviously filled Vivi in on the bones of it.
‘Somehow it doesn’t surprise me, Jess,’ Vivi said, then she smiled. ‘I’d go as far as to say I wouldn’t expect anything less from you. In fact, I’d go further and say there’s more to your actions than you realise, but you’d be bound to deny it all.’
‘I don’t know what you want me to say. I was just sticking up for my employer.’
Vivi chortled with laughter. ‘Sometimes, Jess … Honestly.’
‘What do you want me to say? He’s … I don’t know what he is. He’s complicated and brilliantly talented, sometimes he’s really funny and sometimes he’s very grumpy. He’s down to earth but he’s also a member of the aristocracy – and what is that all about? He’s like nobody I’ve ever met before, but I feel like I’ve always known him. I feel like I could say anything to him, and he might laugh, or he might shout, but either way he’d still listen. Does that make any sense?’
‘Sounds like every employer I’ve ever known … Idon’tthink.’ The smile had no intention of slackening off, by the looks of it. It was riveted to Vivi’s lips and lifted higher on one side, as though she knew more than she was letting on. But there wasn’t anything else to know, Jess was certain of it.
Vivi turned to Craig. ‘The young, hey? Can’t see the road ahead even if it’s signposted and lit like a runway at night.’
Craig chuckled again, finishing the last of his biscuit.
‘Oh, and before I forget,’ Vivi continued. ‘Yes. The choir would very much like to practise in the music room from now on. Perhaps you could let Sebastian know for them?’
With Vivi’s words still ringing in her ears, and Digby scrabbling at the door in an attempt to follow Vivi and Craig home, Jess tidied the kitchen. She then turned her attentions to preparations for the imminent arrival of Sebastian’s younger sister and her two sons, Freddie, who had not long turned five, and Karl, who was three.
She was singing to herself as she dusted the grey rocking horse which had been reinstated into the breakfast room, intending to follow that with a beeswax polish, when she caught sight of Sebastian in the doorway. She paused as he approached, duster dangling from her hand.
‘Did you ever think of singing professionally?’ he said.
Jess frowned, not sure she was in the right frame of mind to explain how she’d never quite bounced back from her time with Venus Rising – how she’d always hoped music would be a part of her life, but that she wasn’t sure how to achieve it anymore.
‘I was in a band for a while,’ she said, hoping the admission would be enough to quench his interest. If anything, it had the opposite effect, and he studied her with renewed curiosity.
‘What kind of band?’
‘We weren’t ever very good,’ she said.
‘That’s not what I asked,’ he said, his gaze steady. ‘I’m genuinely interested, Jess. I’m not going to be all Simon Cowell about it. Music is about a lot more than perfection.’
Jess felt foolish telling Sebastian about the formation of Venus Rising, about the few gigs they’d managed to perform, blighted by the temper tantrums of their bass guitarist. She explained how the bookings had faltered and then dried up, how the group had finally disbanded, how she’d had a go at a few solo performances, but ultimately had changed direction.
‘I’d always dreamed of being a housekeeper, you see,’ she said, a wry smile edging onto her face.
‘Who hasn’t?’ he said, grinning too. Then his smile faded. ‘You should sing again, Jess. Find a way to enjoy it, you know?’
‘Maybe.’ Jess shrugged, then picked up the beeswax polish, unscrewing the lid. While she gave the rocking horse a rejuvenating dose of polish Sebastian told her how it had taken pride of place in front of the bay window for most of their formative years, and that Freya’s boys were crazy excited about playing on it.
Apparently, Sebastian himself had gone through a phase of yearning to be a jockey, and Jess laughed so hard as he gave her a demonstration, arms flailing as his feet slipped from the tiny stirrups, that he almost fell off.
‘Probably why I never wanted a real one,’ he said, grinning as he climbed off.
Before she could think better of it, Jess said, ‘If it’s OK, can we have the next choir rehearsal in the music room?’
He frowned at the segue but nodded anyway.
‘I hope you don’t mind, but I happened to mention it to Mrs Keel, and I think everyone’s super excited by your offer.’
