‘Thank you, Theo. And the good news is, we don’t have to do it alone.’ Albie tipped his chin at the tall, blond, official-looking man who’d just arrived. Albie had propped open the manor’s front door, as agreed by phone. ‘Perfect timing. Thank you for coming, Ethan. Would you like to introduce yourself?’
‘Hi, Albie. Thanks, yes, absolutely.’ Strolling to the front, he turned around to face everyone, an ID card dangling from a lanyard around his neck. His gaze flickered over each resident, resting on Tori for a longer beat before straightening his broad shoulders. ‘Hi. I’m Ethan, the Area Conservation Officer for the local council. It’s my job and privilege to protect the heritage assets of the Local Authority, and ensure any developmentson Listed Buildings are compliant with regulations and permissions.’
He smiled, expression open. ‘Theo’s correct that the cottages aren’t Listed, but the village has some historical significance because of the manor, so we’ve taken an interest in what you’ll be doing here. We’d like the cottages to retain their charm and be restored sympathetically. By the end of this project, you might not like me very much because I’m a stickler for detail, but I’m here to help. Phew, it’s warm in here.’ Stripping off his suit jacket, Ethan unbuttoned and rolled his shirt sleeves up his strong forearms. There was an ease about him which inspired trust, and everyone was listening, though Gilly had an impatient expression and Tori’s face was buried in her upraised knees again.
‘I was lucky enough to oversee the conversion of Beaubrook Manor into apartments,’ Ethan continued, ‘meeting regularly with the developers for site inspections and ensuring planning permission was adhered to. When Mr Curville told me about the clause in your contracts, I was pleased. When I was here, I thought it was a real shame how run-down the village is. It’s got amazing potential to be habitable, and is so quaint and quintessentially British. Also, while the work was going on, even with diggers and workmen constant banging and drilling, there was still an underlying tranquillity. It's a happy place, so I’m glad to be back.’
There was no trace of self-consciousness in the man’s words, which Albie admired. ‘Thank you, we’ll appreciate your guidance.’
‘Sorry,’ Gilly gave them an exasperated look, ‘but let’s not romanticise this. The cottages are ramshackle, and I’m surprised the village is still even on maps. We’re talking about a huge amount of work.’
Ethan nodded. ‘Agreed, but based on my experience, it’ll be worth it. Also, point of interest, technically it’s a hamlet because there’s no church or village hall.’
Hmmm, Albie hadn’t known that, and didn’t think Rose had either. Raising his hand, he brought their collective focus back to the required decision. ‘Shall we pick one cottage and work on it collectively? Support each other and pool ideas?’ Oh, bugger it, he’d forgotten his notepad. ‘Does anyone have pen and paper?’
Theo pulled out his phone. ‘I’ll make notes.’ A brief sadness glimmered in his brown eyes. ‘I need something to do with my time, so would be happy to start with my cottage, but am equally okay if we pick someone else’s. Happy to be on the committee too.’
‘Sorry, we’re out. We’ve too many commitments already. Talk to us in six months’ time.’ Gilly replied, taking Ariel’s hand. ‘Come on.’
Ariel slid her fingers free. ‘I’m staying, Gee.’
Gilly stiffened. ‘Suit yourself.’
Albie sighed as she stalked out. He hadn’t meant to cause upset. Perhaps Gilly, who reminded him of the actress off that submarine police thriller, would change her mind once Ariel was actively involved.
Shifting his attention to the back wall, he raised his voice, ‘Harley? What about you?’
Begrudgingly, the man replied, ‘I don’t own a cottage, but as Site Manager I suppose I have to help.’
‘Good,’ Albie said, not remarking on his lack of grace. ‘Now, shall we talk about timescales?—’
‘Whoosh!’ The little boy, largely forgotten during the conversation, tired of his game and sprung up from the carpet. Pretending to fly like a superhero, he tripped over legs and banged into people’s knees, producingoofsandcarefulsout of them and disrupting the conversation.
‘Um, Vanessa, is it?’ Albie shuffled over to his oblivious mother, still scrolling through her screen. ‘Will you be joining the committee?’
‘Don’t think so.’ She yawned, tucking her mobile into the pocket of her cream miniskirt.
He waited a moment, before tactfully prompting, ‘If nothing else has convinced you, we do have a legal obligation?—’
‘Doubt I’ll be here long enough.’ Rising from her seat with a flash of bright red soles on towering heels, she strutted to the door. ‘Let’s go, Laurie.’
Kirsten, frowning at seeing she didn’t bother to check if her son was following, sprang up and herded the boy after his mum.
‘Tori?’ Albie turned to his next-door neighbour. It would do her good to be around people.
Raising her chin, she wrinkled her nose before answering, ‘No way. Count me out.’ Without looking at anyone, she stood up and bolted from the room.
Ethan watched her depart, staring at the doorway after she’d gone.
‘Poor thing,’ Kirsten said as she returned to the front, gazing after Tori. ‘There’s obviously something going on there.’
‘Whowasthat?’ Ethan asked.
‘Ha!’ Harley scoffed. ‘I wouldn’t waste your time on her. She’d sooner bite you than give you the time of day.’ He didn’t appear to appreciate the irony of his comment.
Albie patted Ethan on the arm. ‘That was Tori.’ Smiling, he added wryly, ‘Welcome back to Beaubrook Manor.’
Next, he spoke to the ghost in his head. She wasn’t there, but talking to her was as natural as breathing.Well, Rose, I tried my best and they’re not jumping for joy, but it could have been worse. Now let’s see whether they’re worthy of this special place.
