Page 7 of One Last Touch

“Yeah the, what, three years you have on me make so much difference.” I rolled my eyes as I gestured to the keys. “I take it you don’t get a lot of thieves in the countryside?”

“Not many people come up to the house. Most folks recognise a bad thing when they feel it.”

“It doesn’t feel bad here to me.”

“Then there’s something wrong with you.” I looked at him sharply and he rubbed the back of his neck, looking slightly regretful about that last remark but still, he didn’t apologise for it either. “Look, you’re young, you could go out and live your life, rather than wasting away here.”

I shook my head as I climbed into the car. I was too cold to stand around having this conversation with him, why did he think it was any of his business what I did or where I stayed? “Piss off with all this you’re young crap. You’re barely any older than me and, frankly, I don’t give a shit if I have your approval to be here. I’m staying, deal with it.”

He blew out a long breath before shoving his hands in the pockets of his blue overalls. “I’m older than I look.”

“Still don’t care,” I said cheerfully and he muttered something that I was certain was uncomplimentary and I pursed my lips. Older than he looked, that was the kind of bullshit a sixteen-year-old spouted at the pub when he got asked for ID and the thought made me fight back a laugh. “Now, I would like to actually get into town sometime this century. Will you help me with the gate?”

For a moment he just stared at me in silence and then he spun on his heel, walking back across the grounds and in the direction of the lake we’d seen yesterday.

“Is that a no? Fine, I’ll do it myself,” I muttered before slamming the car door a little harder than necessary and turning the key. The car sputtered but eventually the engine roared into life and I brushed the dust off of the steering wheel and dash with the bottom of my coat sleeve, sneezing three times in a row before it settled again. I reached for the heat, cranking it up as I carefully backed out of the barn, the wheels gently spraying gravel as I manoeuvred around the central fountain and drove down toward the gate at a snail’s pace.

Sage really wasn’t going to come and help with the gate and seemed to have disappeared. I winced, it had just started to become nice and toasty inside the cab and I climbed out regretfully, pulling the gate open so I could drive through. From here, the house seemed larger than life, like it could hold all the hopes and answers I’d dreamed of finding. Inside though was a different matter, the dust, the quiet, the age, it felt more like a place where dreams went to wither.

I pulled through the gate and stuck on my handbrake, intending to get out and close it behind me, but it was already shut. I hadn’t heard or seen a thing, but I had to assume Sage had felt guilty and had come back in time to close up behind me. Or maybe he was just trying to stop me from getting back in, but I’d left a first edition copy of Lady Chatterley's Lover inside the house, so I would have come back for that even if nothing else. But I wasn’t going to let him dictate to me what I should or shouldn’t do—he couldn’t drive me away, if that was his plan. I didn’t want to believe that Ms Weathers was involved in whatever was going on with him but I couldn’t deny the way they seemed to whisper and look meaningfully at each other when they thought I wasn’t paying attention.

The drive into town really didn’t take long, thirty minutes at most, but it felt like it took longer because of the winding country roads and my unfamiliarity driving the truck. It was a pretty smooth ride, though it had been a while since I’d had to drive anywhere. I hadn’t bothered keeping my car when I’d gone off to uni, so some of my gear changes were a little…

The truck lurched forward slightly and I would have been embarrassed if there had been anyone on these roads except for me to see it. It was still relatively early though and I hadn’t realised just how remote we truly were up at Alswell. There were a couple of other old manor houses that I passed on my way into town, most even more run down than mine.

Mine. It felt odd to be able to say that. Alswell Manor belonged to me, for better or worse.

By the time I’d pulled into Leamington Spa, my driving had evened out again, though I would need to sort out some insurance for the truck if I was going to keep borrowing it.

I’d never been to the town centre before and it was an odd mixture of independently arty and pretentious, but I supposed all places had their quirks.

The priority was to stock up on food, but I also wanted to get some more jumpers and other warm clothes, as well as get a plumber out to look at the pipes—I wouldn’t be able to avoid having a shower forever and that icy water had been too unbearable for me to stick it out. Thankfully, I’d found a number for a local guy who had a small office of sorts just off of the main high street who could come out tomorrow morning and hopefully fix the problem. He’d been shocked when I’d told him where I was staying and, presumably because of how young I looked, had even thought I was trying to prank him. I hoped I’d convinced him I was serious, but I’d agreed to pay a fifty-pound deposit anyway so he knew I wasn’t just fucking around with him.

I stocked up on jumpers and blankets at a decently sized Primark and stopped to shove the haul into the truck bed before moving onto the big Sainsbury’s and dropping possibly more money than I’d ever spent in my life on groceries. But there was nothing in the house beyond the few things my mother had presumably stocked and I couldn’t survive off of earl grey. I needed proper tea and snacks and whatever ready meals I could get my hands on to stick in the freezer. I had no clue if the oven or hob worked and, as I stood in the pasta aisle, I realised I was pretty close to freaking out. I had a whole house to basically renovate, no clue what I was doing, and nobody to call if I needed help because everyone I’d had was gone.

I took a few deep breaths to calm myself, ignoring the concerned looks an attentive worker was giving me, and marched my trolly on to the crisps section. I needed comfort food. ASAP.

I loaded all the groceries into the truck and then walked the trolley back before climbing into the car and just sitting there for a moment, not quite ready to go back to the house that was not quite a home. As I often had the past few weeks, I couldn’t help wishing more than anything else that my mum was here. But she wasn’t, and the closest thing I could get to her was waiting for me thirty-minutes away, buried under dust and neglect.

As much as Sage might wish otherwise, I was going home to Alswell Manor and I was going to find my answers. Even if it was the last thing I would ever do.

Chapter Four

“Look, I don’t know what your game is, sweetheart, but I’d appreciate it if you left me out of it from now on.”

I didn’t know what to say, I simply stared at the plumber until his deep bronze skin graced a blush. “I’m sorry?”

He waved in the direction of the upstairs before slinging a rag down over his shoulder. “I won’t put in a complaint this time, but this better be the last time I’m out here, okay?”

“No,” I said, brows furrowed deeply as frustration and confusion warred inside me. “Not okay. I have no idea what you’re going on about.”

It seemed that had been the wrong thing to say and the plumber tutted loudly, muttering about the ungrateful youth, while I stood there bewildered. He’d been rude ever since he walked through the door, looking around as if the house itself might creep up and bite him and, well, I could understand his trepidation. The place was run down, the corridors were almost perpetually dark and though there was electricity, it tended to cut out unreliably so unlit candles and matches were scattered across multiple surfaces as you walked through the house. He’d given me a brief smile but had completely ignored Ms Weathers, even when she’d politely asked if he’d like a cup of tea. I’d never heard of a plumber turning down a cuppa, but the fact that he’d not even bothered to reply had put me on edge almost immediately.

“Come with me,” he said eventually and turned to the left to go up the stairs to what had become my room. We walked straight through to the en-suite and he didn’t hesitate before immediately turning on the shower. Steam billowed out of the head and I grinned as the warm spray splashed at me.

“You fixed it!”

“No.” He shook his head, brown eyes serious as they watched me before he turned away and stopped the running water. “I didn’t do anything.”

---