Page 6 of Wild About You

‘By the way,’ I said, ‘why do you hateLondonso much?’

She froze, her mouth twitching a little. ‘I have no idea what you mean,’ she said, her accent becoming even more posh.

Callum gave me a knowing look. ‘I’ll show you Belheddonbrae,’ he said. ‘No need to drive, it’s close by.’ As soon as we were outside, he cast me a shy smile. ‘Don’t worry about Tally. It’s just a bit of town versus country. She thinks you might come here and dazzle us with your sophisticated metropolitan ways.’

‘Right,’ I said, thinking it was slightly unfair. Tally had been inspecting my every move as though I was about to fail in some way; I had the vague feeling at some point she would ask me which finishing school I went to. Which was fine, except the role of inspecting my failures was already filled by me. Attempting to quieten my inner critic was going to be even harder with an actual external critic constantly looking down her nose at me.

As we clomped down the length of the house frontage, past vast window after vast window, I had the feelingclose byfor Callum wasn’t exactly the same by my measurement. In an attempt to be more ‘country’, I was wearing chunky boots I’d bought in preparation for hiking around the estate, and they felt like lead weights as I struggled to keep up with him.

Having exited the staff office at the front of the house, we walked the length of the frontage, then turned left and headed for the land behind the house. Before long, we came to the ruin of the medieval castle that had been the first habitation at Stonemore. ‘It was a pele tower,’ said Callum. ‘A fortified tower, built in the 1300s for security against invasion. Three hundred years later, a member of the family added a wing to make it a manor house, then that fell into ruin, too, when the current house was built in the late 1700s.’ He glanced at me. ‘Do you want to have a look inside?’

I nodded, and had to suppress the desire to clap my hands with glee. ‘Yes please.’

He smiled, and held out his hand to help me over a stonymound. We threaded our way through a gap in the grey stone walls. I looked up at the ancient remains, gauging where the floor levels had been from the windows and arrow slits. The height of the tower meant it must have been possible to see for many miles. We walked onwards into the seventeenth-century wing of the house, also now a ruin, and I gazed through grand stone window frames now free of glass. I could imagine a log fire burning in this room, the family banqueting and dancing. There was something incredibly atmospheric about this place.

‘Magical, isn’t it?’ His smile matched my own.

As we came out of the shelter of the ruins the wind hit us – hard. ‘Wow,’ I said, but my voice was lost in another gust. Callum glanced at me with a half-smile. ‘You’ll get used to it,’ he said.

We were marching alongside high red-brick walls now. ‘This is the kitchen garden,’ said Callum. ‘Most of the back of the house faces the formal garden, though. Mica and Keith are in charge of upkeep, but we have an army of volunteers and students on placement to help them. Have you seen the formal gardens yet?’

Trying not to pant, I shook my head.

‘Let’s just make a quick detour so you can take a look,’ he said. We turned left and walked past the brick-enclosed kitchen garden to see the formal garden, an elaborate parterre. I exclaimed at the sight of it: ornamental beds in damask patterns, cut precisely into the level ground and edged by box hedges.

‘Done in the nineteenth century,’ said Callum.

‘And best seen from above,’ I said, glancing at the tall windows lining the back of the house. It looked sparse in the January light, but I could well imagine the beds in summer, softened by colourful flowers and herbs.

‘It’s a shame,’ said Callum. ‘Most of the upper floor on this side of the house is dust-sheeted – it’s just too much money to keep it open.’ He ascertained I’d seen enough, turned on his heel and strode back in the direction of the pele tower and – I presumed – Belheddonbrae.

‘Right,’ I said. I was working to catch my breath (another couple of items for my to-do list: 1 – buy waxed jacket. 2 – get fitter, much fitter). I was very glad when Callum eventually slowed, and unhooked a farm gate set in a traditional stone wall.

‘Ta da,’ he said.

I saw immediately that Belheddonbrae had once been a garden, although it was nothing like the disciplined, clear-cut parterre. There were trees and hardy shrubs, offering shelter from the wind, some bedraggled beds in the flatter section, long overgrown, and the remains of a lawned area.

‘What was this used for?’ I asked.

Callum seemed to be searching for an answer. ‘The late countess – mother of the current earl – loved this area, made it her own when she was first married, I’ve been told,’ he said eventually.

‘Was she an enthusiastic gardener?’ I asked. Obviously, I immediately had a vision of her, gleaned from costumedramas I’d watched with my mum when I was a kid: white floaty dress, drifting through the garden, gathering fruit and flowers into her arms as she glided on with the same long-legged imperiousness I’d seen the echo of in her son. Although it was bloody freezing out here so floaty dresses wouldn’t be exactly practical.

Callum looked uncomfortable. ‘No, not really. She held a lot of parties here.’

The vision disappeared. ‘Garden parties?’

‘Kind of. Once, there was a mini-festival, I suppose you would call it. She hired a rock band.’ He named one of dubious 1980s vintage. I goggled at him.

‘The guests trampled the borders. After that, the 7th Earl said she couldn’t have access to it – the current earl’s father. He padlocked the gate. They were divorced soon after.’

‘She could have climbed over it fairly easily, I would imagine,’ I said, looking at it. I was fairly sure I could haul my stocky little frame over it, so Jamie’s mum (surely an elegant giantess?) would have no problem.

‘She didn’t seem to care too much,’ said Callum. ‘But it upset Jamie.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Keith’s been here for years. He told me when Jamie came home from school and found it all ruined, there was quite a scene. He’d planted things with her, spent time here with her. It upset him.’

‘Oh.’ I digested this new piece of information.Came home from school– they must have sent him to boarding school. My stomach pitched at the idea – as a young child, stayingaway from home for even a night had unsettled me. ‘How difficult for him.’

‘I’m surprised he’s asked you to start here,’ said Callum. ‘This place is special to him – but also sad. It’s his mother who named it Belheddonbrae.’

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