Page 29 of The Diary at the Last House Before the Sea

River didn’t know what he meant. Thumbscrews, perhaps?

Geoffrey murmured, ‘That is very good news,’ though his face told another story.

Leaving this place which his family had called home for generations would kill him, River realised, before inwardly berating himself for being overly dramatic – something else his father could not abide.

‘It’s early days,’ Bartie continued, ‘but a very good start that could come to fruition relatively swiftly. It’s going to need a lot of work on my part, but that’s something I’ve never been afraid of and, of course, I want to do the best for you and the manor.’

Geoffrey smiled. ‘It’s very good of you, Bartie. I would ask Mrs Netherway to make us a pot of tea but she sent me a message some hours ago saying she’d gone home with a headache. She promised to come back to cook dinner but I haven’t seen her.’

‘If she’s still not feeling well, I can cook for us,’ said River, wondering how his father was going to manage after the sale without the help he was used to. He doubted that Geoffrey knew how to boil an egg.

‘That would be—’ Geoffrey stopped mid-sentence when Mrs N rushed into the room, with Clara at her heels. ‘Ah, you’re back, Julie. I assume that your headache has gone?’

‘No, not really,’ said Mrs N, tapping her foot over and over on the carpet. She was a ball of nervous energy. ‘It’s still pounding away because I can’t relax.’

Clara stepped forward. ‘Mum, I don’t think—’ But she was silenced by an imperious wave of her mother’s hand.

‘No, Clara, it needs to be said and I won’t relax until it has been.’ Mrs N turned to his father, her foot still tapping. ‘I understand that my daughter took it upon herself to castigate you for not telling me about selling the manor before this morning’s meeting.’

Had Clara given his father a telling off? River bit back a smile at the thought. Bartie’s grin was less well hidden.

‘Well,’ Geoffrey harrumphed. ‘She did have a word with me.’

‘Then she shouldn’t have and I’m sorry.’

‘Mum, you don’t need to say sorry,’ said Clara, her cheeks flushed.

She glanced at River as if seeking his support, but Geoffrey was already speaking.

‘Your daughter’s right. There’s no need to apologise, Julie. As I told you earlier, I should have been more sensitive to your situation.’ River felt his mouth fall open and he quickly closed it again. ‘Actually, Clara and I ended up having an interesting chat.’

When Geoffrey glanced at Clara, River frowned. What was that look the two of them had just exchanged? As though they had some kind of understanding.

‘Anyway, I hope your headache will now ease,’ Geoffrey continued. ‘However, if you feel unable to cook dinner, my son has offered to take over your duties.’

River tried hard not to be offended by the disbelief and horror that registered on Mrs N’s face.

‘Absolutely not. I wouldn’t dream of not cooking your meal,’ she spluttered, silencing her daughter’s protestations with another wave of the hand. ‘I’m heading for the kitchen right now and dinner will be at the same time as usual.’

She bustled out of the room but Clara remained, shifting from foot to foot.

‘Actually, while I’m here, I was wondering if you had a minute?’

She was looking at River but Bartie stepped forward. ‘I always have time for you, Clara, and your entertaining mother. How did she know we’d be in here?’

‘Everyone seems to gravitate towards the library because it’s the most comforting room in the house.’

River glanced at the shelves filled with books, the faded Persian rug that covered the floorboards, and the leather armchairs whose seats had become squashy with age. He found this room, that smelled of sandalwood polish, comforting too.

Outside, the sun was glaring, giving the green of the lawns and the blue of the sea a fever-dream vibrancy. River had been back to Brellasham Manor in his dreams. He’d dreamed of the echoing rooms with high ceilings and the cove with waves lapping at the sand. He’d dreamed of Clara.

‘Earth to River!’ Bartie’s voice was loud.

‘Sorry, what did you say?’ River asked, feeling foolish.

‘I was telling Clara that plans are progressing regarding the sale of this place. She needs to know because of how much it will affect her and her mother.’

‘Thank you. It would be good to be kept up to date.’ Clara pushed her hair behind her ears. ‘But actually, I wanted to know if the charity fete and open day is still going ahead, only there are a lot of arrangements still to make if that’s the case.’

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