Page 42 of The House of Hopes and Dreams
‘I know, but you’ll simply have to let it go, because there’s nothing you can do about it now. And people who are interested inyourdesigns will find you wherever you are, won’t they?’
‘They will once I get organized with a website. I’ll have to notify the British Society of Master Glass Painters, the Crafts Council and a few other places of my change of address and that of the new studio. I saved my pages from Julian’s website, so it shouldn’t take too long.’
Deleting all mention of myself from the Julian Seddon Architectural Glass website had felt like unpicking major threads out of my life, leaving gaping holes in the fabric: all warp and not enough weft. But now I’d have to weave a whole new pattern of my own.
The morning was advancing and I didn’t want to hold Molly up, so I booked the two men with the van to collect my belongings from the storage unit in a couple of days, packed everything else into the car and set off for Mossby.
I didn’t look at my old home as I passed it …
It was a gloriously sunny though chilly day, the sky a pale duck-egg blue, modestly veiled by a few white wisps of cloud. I drove past the workshop –myworkshop! – and parked in the gravel circle in front of the porch … where I found Carey, standing next to a large, sturdy golf buggy, with Fang tucked under his arm like a shiny black package.
This was presumably to stop him biting the person he was talking to – a burly, weather-beaten man of about sixty with a head of wiry, silvered fair hair, who had ‘gardener’ written all over him.
‘Good timing, Angelique,’ Carey said, as I got out. ‘This is Ella’s husband, Clem. I’ve been updating him about what we’re going to do with the workshop.’
Clem said he was pleased to meet me in a pleasant, slow voice with a hint of Devon cream in it. ‘It seems a good idea to use the old workshop again, seeing it’s there. I know Carey’s uncle had some idea of letting it out to a local business at one time, but it came to nothing in the end.’
‘Where did the buggy come from?’ I asked.
‘Clem told me about it. My uncle used to get around the grounds in it before his final illness, so he brought it up from the garages behind the workshop and we’ve filled it with petrol. It’s just the thing for getting up and down the drive and round the grounds, till my leg’s up to more hiking.’
‘What a great idea! Hello, Fang,’ I added, stroking the little dog’s head. He curled his lip at me slightly, but didn’t growl, so I was sure it was meant as a smile.
‘Mr Revell had a shed with double doors put in at the end of the kitchen wing to keep the buggy in so it was handy. It’s behind that bay hedge, so you’ve probably not noticed it’s there yet,’ Clem said. ‘But after he passed on, I thought it would be better stored in the garage in the stable block.’
‘Yes, that was a good idea, but it’s certainly just what I need at the moment,’ Carey said, climbing into the driver’s seat while still holding Fang. ‘Come along, Angel – hop on.’
‘Why, where are you going? I’ve only just got here and my car’s full of stuff!’
‘Only for a quick tour of the grounds. I haven’t felt up to it before, but now there’s nothing to stop me.’
‘But—’
‘You can settle in later,’ he said impatiently. ‘Your things will be safe in the car for a bit.’
‘If you leave me your car key, I’ll put everything in the kitchen wing for you,’ offered Clem. ‘It won’t take me a minute.’
‘That’s very kind, but—’
‘Thanks, Clem,’ Carey interrupted. ‘We won’t be long. Come on, Angel, give him your keys and let’s get off!’
‘Oh, OK,’ I capitulated. There’s no stopping Carey when he’s got that look in his eyes. ‘But only if you move over and let me drive!’
‘It’s hardly strenuous,’ he objected. ‘That’s the whole point of it!’
‘I know that, it’s just that I’ve always wanted to have a go with one of these things,’ I told him, and he laughed and shifted over.
‘See you later,’ he said to Clem, who was already hefting boxes and suitcases out of the back of my car.
I trundled sedately round the knot garden. In fact, I did it twice to get the feel of the thing, before setting off down the drive.
‘I hope it gets us back up this slope to the house afterwards,’ I said doubtfully. ‘It’s steep lower down.’
‘If not, you can get out and walk,’ he suggested.
‘Thanks. Always the true gent.’
Carey directed me to branch off to the left behind the workshop and through a large arch into a cobbled square, where I came to a halt. It was surrounded by a substantial range of outbuildings. There was another arched entrance directly opposite, though closed by a wooden gate with a Judas door in it.
