Page 70 of The Diary at the Last House Before the Sea

Bartie, asleep on his back and spread across the bed like a starfish, grunted at the noise. Then he sat up, scrabbling at the duvet until it covered his bare chest.

‘What?’ he demanded, rubbing his eyes. ‘What’s going on?’

‘You and I need to have a word,’ said Geoffrey, walking to the window and wrenching back the curtains. Bright daylight flooded the room as he moved to the bed and sat down on it.

‘Urgh.’ Bartie, wincing in the light, smacked his lips together. ‘I need a drink.’

Geoffrey passed him the glass of water on the nightstand without a word and waited while Bartie slurped it down.

‘What’s happened?’ Bartie asked, passing the tumbler back and wiping the back of his hand across his mouth. ‘And whatever it is, couldn’t it wait until I’m up and dressed?’

‘No.’ Geoffrey ran his thumbs across the cool glass. ‘I’m afraid not.’ He took a deep breath, not relishing what was about to be said but resigned to the fact that it was necessary. ‘The thing is, I know the truth about you and Hannah.’

Bartie sniffed and pulled the duvet higher. ‘Yes, I told you all about it last night. I was terribly upset that she would deceive me like that – telling me one thing while planning another. It’s shocking.’

‘Yes.’ Geoffrey nodded sadly. ‘I’m very shocked by the duplicity. Both hers and yours.’

‘Oh, I get what this is,’ said Bartie, running his hands through his hair which was standing on end. ‘I suppose you’ve been speaking to Clara, and probably River, too. I bet they came to see you first thing, looking all drawn and concerned, and they spun some tale about how I knew what Hannah was planning all along. Well, it’s rubbish.’

When Geoffrey remained silent, Bartie blinked and continued. ‘I don’t like to speak badly of Clara but she’s been all over me since I arrived, and she didn’t take it too kindly when I gave her a firm no and told her I have a girlfriend in London. I think I’ve mentioned her before. She’s called Mariella and she’s very special to me. Possibly the one.’

When Geoffrey still said nothing, Bartie puffed air through his lips. ‘Anyway, Clara got very upset and, frankly, a bit paranoid about my relationship with Hannah. She threatened to wreck any deal to buy the manor and said she would poison the relationship between you and me. And now she’s spreading that poison to River. You really don’t want to believe anything they told you about me this morning.’

‘I did see them this morning.’ Geoffrey carefully placed the empty glass on the nightstand. ‘But they told me very little about you, Bartie.’

‘Oh.’ Bartie blinked rapidly. Geoffrey could almost see the cogs in his brain whirring ever faster. ‘Well. That’s OK, then. Clara must have realised how ridiculous and unfair she was being. She knows that you’d never believe such an outlandish claim about a member of your own family. After all, we Brellashams stick together.’

Geoffrey sighed. This was proving to be more painful than he had imagined. His instinct had been to avoid exacerbating his emotional pain and to pretend, even to himself, that he believed Bartie, who had been a dear member of his family for years.

That was why he’d gone along with the boy’s blurted-out tale last night: Hannah was the one in the wrong who had misled them about her plans for the grounds and gardens, and Bartie was as much a victim of her lies as he was himself.

When River and Clara had come into his study that morning, Geoffrey was prepared to counter any information to the contrary that they might present. Anything to preserve his emotional equilibrium and to keep the Brellasham family, such as it was, together.

But then his son had kept his counsel and said nothing about Bartie’s duplicity, even though he knew. Geoffrey could see it in his eyes. In Clara’s, too, and she’d attempted to be more forthcoming before River had shut her down. They knew the truth but were allowing him to continue seeing Bartie through rose-tinted glasses because they didn’t want to hurt him – and he respected them for that.

‘Say something, Geoffrey,’ said Bartie, a hint of anxiety in his voice. ‘We can put Hannah behind us and I can bring in another developer I know who I trust completely.’

‘You told me you trusted Hannah completely.’

‘I did trust her, which is why I’m so upset that she let me down. But this new developer I’m thinking about is beyond reproach. I’ve known him for years and I’d trust him with my life.’

Geoffrey held up his hands, not wanting to hear any more. ‘There’s no need. From now on, River will be arranging all visits regarding potential buyers.’

‘That’s not a good idea, sir,’ Bartie whined. ‘River doesn’t have a clue what he’s doing. He knows nothing about this area of business whereas I’m very experienced.’

‘That’s probably the case, but the difference is that I can trust River but I’m sad to say that I can’t trust you, Bartie.’ Geoffrey suddenly felt close to tears and he swallowed hard, berating himself for being weak.

‘That’s not true.’

‘I’m afraid it is and my mind is made up.’

‘I’m completely trustworthy,’ Bartie protested but he knew his time was up. That was evident by the scowl on his face.

‘I assume there was money involved. Some promise of commission or similar?’ When Bartie remained silent, Geoffrey had his answer. ‘I think it’s best if you pack up and leave before breakfast, don’t you?’

‘You’re making a terrible mistake.’

Geoffrey got up from the bed and walked to the door which was still wide open. ‘Sadly, I don’t think so.’

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