Page 19 of The Diary at the Last House Before the Sea

Clara closed her eyes and tilted her face up towards the sun whose warmth was penetrating the glass. How was it possible to hold two such opposing feelings at the same time? she wondered.

She resented Geoffrey’s sense of entitlement and the hold Brellasham Manor appeared to have had on her family for so long. She also felt strongly that her mother had deserved to find out news of the imminent sale ahead of time and in private.

Yet she also felt sorry for Geoffrey, who was, in essence, a lonely old man rattling round this place with no family to love him.

In many ways he’d made a hash of his privileged life. But maybe he’d been damaged by his stepmother’s death when he was only a child – younger than River had been when he’d left Brellasham Manor for good. And trauma like that cast a long shadow.

Where would he go if the house was sold? She couldn’t imagine him in some posh residential care community, or living alone in a penthouse somewhere. And his shaky relationship with his son meant he’d hardly be heading to Australia for a new start.

I should be more compassionate and understanding, thought Clara, opening her eyes. That was something she didn’t like about herself – her propensity to judge other people when she had plenty of faults of her own.

After all, she was, in effect, lying to her mum about Audrey’s diary which was now nestling in her bag in the corner of the room.

What would Audrey think about the house being sold? she wondered. Perhaps she wouldn’t care because she hadn’t been happy here.

The chiming of the grandfather clock on the landing brought Clara’s thoughts back to the present and she began to tidy up before her mother caught her slacking.

After piling a teetering mountain of china onto a tray, Clara walked out of the room, down the stairs and towards the kitchen which was at the back of the house.

The freelance work she had to get done today was beginning to make her feel stressed and she needed to get back to the cottage as soon as possible. That was why she’d piled the cups so high – a decision she was now regretting with every tentative step. Especially when Grayson suddenly bounded out of the kitchen towards her.

‘What’s the matter, boy?’

She raised the tray higher, trying to keep it balanced as he jumped up and down. The daft dog seemed agitated and even more frisky than usual.

Clara placed the tray on top of a low cupboard in the corridor and bent to tickle behind Grayson’s ear. And that was when she heard a strange gulping sound.

She walked softly to the kitchen and peeped around the door but there was no one there. The large room, with its glistening black Aga and rows of copper pans hanging from a ceiling beam, was empty and yet the sound – a faint gulping and sniffling now – persisted.

It was coming from the store room which housed non-perishable food and cleaning equipment. Clara pulled the door open and her heart lurched at the sight of her mother sitting on an upturned crate, sobbing quietly.

‘Oh, Mum.’ Clara rushed forward, knelt down and put her arm around the older woman’s shoulders. ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘I’m…fine,’ gulped Julie, trying to catch her breath.

‘You’re obviously not fine. You don’t have to be brave about all of this.’

‘But I do.’ Julie sniffed and dragged her sleeve across her nose. ‘I can’t go to pieces. It’s too hard to put myself back together again. After your dad…after your dad…’

When she began to sob again, Clara gently rubbed her mother’s back and let her cry. At last she was all cried out and she pulled a tissue from her sleeve to blow her nose.

‘Sorry about that,’ she said, her face puffy and eyes red. ‘It’s just it’s been hard since your dad died. It’s taken me a while to adjust, and this has all come as a shock. So many memories of your dad are in our cottage. It’ll be so hard to leave.’

‘Did this all come completely out of the blue?’ asked Clara. ‘Surely Geoffrey said something to you about difficult decisions having to be made.’ Julie bit her lip and shook her head. ‘So there was no hint of it at all?’

‘No, or I’d have told you.’

‘Then he should have told you. I mean, you’ve worked here for ages.’

Julie rounded her shoulders and leaned forward. ‘It must have been a very difficult decision for Geoffrey to make, and why should he tell me ahead of time? I’m nothing special.’

‘Don’t say that.’ A knot of anger had lodged in Clara’s chest. ‘You’ve kept the manor and the Brellasham family going for years, and Gran did the same before you. He should have had the courtesy to speak with you privately so you didn’t find out the news with everyone else, especially as you live in the grounds. This is your home too.’

‘It would have been nice but I suppose he’s had a lot on his mind. I don’t blame him.’

Her brave smile almost broke Clara, who rocked back on her heels. ‘It must cost a lot to keep this house going but I thought Geoffrey was loaded.’

‘There have been some rumours about bad business deals recently but—’ Julie pressed her lips together as if stopping any further words from tumbling out. Then, she said quietly: ‘It’s not for me to speculate or to pass on gossip. That’s not my job. Talking of which…’ She got to her feet and pushed her tissue back up her sleeve. ‘It’ll be lunchtime soon and I need to poach Geoffrey’s salmon. Life goes on, doesn’t it.’

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