Autumn Leaves at Mill Grange by Jenny Kane (best free e reader .TXT) 📕

feet. ‘I was hoping to talk to you about that. How about a piece for the camera with me and the AA looking through the archives? There’s a church in Bradford-on-Avon, Wiltshire – St Laurence’s – which dates from roughly 1000. I suspect that’s roughly the same time as this one, although somewhat smaller. If we did a comparison of plans and so on, it would make up for the lack of finds we have to talk about.’

‘Excellent idea. Sophie should be in on that.’

‘Sophie?’

‘You don’t like her?’ Phil’s smile didn’t meet his eyes. ‘Threatened by her natural screen talent?’

‘Of course I like her. I suppose I assumed now she’d done her piece to camera, we’d met her mother’s filming requirements, that’s all.’

‘We have, but the fact is, Shaun, she knows this place inside out.’ Phil looked in the student archaeologist’s direction. ‘She’s staying on camera. The viewers will love her.’

*

Tina stood in her bedroom in Mill Grange’s attic and attempted to smooth out the creases in the white blouse she wore when visiting the Trust’s properties as part of her accounting and administrative job. She should have hung all her clothes up weeks ago, but there were always more interesting things to do.

It had become rare for Tina to consider her appearance. If she wasn’t about to visit a long-standing and rather old-fashioned Trust client who she knew set a lot of store by appearance (equating a smart appearance with capability), she wouldn’t have thought about it now. Yet, now the issue of appearance had occurred to her, Tina stood over her open suitcases, wondering what she’d wear if they ever went to see Sam’s parents.

Staring into the age-spotted mirror hanging on the wall, she had a sudden urge to undo her plaits. Only children wear plaits. Tugging off the elastic ties that kept them in place, Tina teased her fingers through each blonde strand until her hair was loose around her shoulders.

Checking her watch to make sure there was enough time before she had to leave for the farmhouse that was expecting her to sort out their accounts, she picked up the suitcase containing her smartest clothes and emptied it onto her bed.

Trailing her fingertips over the collection of velvet, satin, denim, cotton and silk outfits, Tina felt a stab of sadness. These had been her going-out clothes. Her dating clothes. What use were they now? Sam couldn’t take her out on dates that didn’t include wrapping up against the elements. She needed thermals, thick jackets and hiking boots, not flimsy short-sleeved tops, light cardigans and strappy sandals.

‘It won’t always be like that.’ Tina held up her favourite velvet jacket and hugged it to her chest. ‘Sam will get better and we’ll go out like a normal couple.’

Even as she said it, Tina realised she couldn’t picture him in a restaurant or a wine bar. The pub perhaps, but somehow Sam didn’t fit an inside setting, even within the confines of her imagination.

Thinking that at least he’d see her dressed up when they visited his parents, and that her best jeans and the velvet jacket might do for that, knowing the dress she’d have preferred to wear was impractical for sitting outside to eat now autumn was making itself felt. Tina wondered how they’d get there. She knew Sam was alright on trains while they were moving, and he could face short car trips, but Worcestershire was at least three hours’ drive away, and she’d put money on their being no direct trains. And, even if there were, what if the train broke down or was delayed due to signal failure and he couldn’t get off while they waited?

Moving to the window, looking out over the grounds and beyond to the woods, Tina felt a wave of helplessness threatening to overtake her. She badly wanted to help Sam, but she had no idea how.

As she watched a pheasant meander haphazardly across the lawn, Woody and Dave came into view. Although she couldn’t hear them, she could see that they were laughing. Seconds later, Sam joined them. He was laughing too.

A sensation of being unnecessary hit her in a wave of self-disgust. She should be pleased for Sam, not jealous that he had friends who understood his situation because they’d been through similar nightmares themselves. Yet, Tina still found herself feeling like the schoolgirl she’d been twenty years ago; the girl who’d never quite fitted in. Cross with herself for letting her childhood insecurities get the better of her, Tina put on her jacket and grabbed the paperwork she needed for the afternoon ahead. ‘Stop being so pathetic. You just feel left out. Sam loves you, and not only is this is good for him, but it’s vital he tests his ideas for the business. So stop it.’ Tina hooked her bag onto her shoulder. ‘You need a night out with Thea to help put things in perspective.’

Returning to the window, Tina watched as Thea joined the group of men. Helen was with her.

‘Then again, perhaps Thea’s a bit busy for me right now as well.’ The sense of illogical jealousy she’d brushed away when Thea had told her she’d been for scones with Helen, without her, suddenly returned with a sigh.

Tina’s fingers automatically went to play with her plaits, but they weren’t there.

Nineteen

September 10th

The far wall of the walled garden, shrouded in denuded, yet clinging, branches of trailing apple trees, had an almost ghostly presence in the early morning light. Its gothic beauty, however, couldn’t disguise how badly it needed repointing; the spread of ivy at the far right end of the wall was doing nothing for its long-term health.

As Sam pulled a short tendril of ivy away, he felt the wall’s resistance, as if it didn’t want its protective covering removed before the full frosts of winter kicked in. Looking closely, Sam saw that the pocked cement mix that had originally been used to hold the stone wall together had been all but replaced