Читать книгу The Love Trilogy - Sophie Pembroke - Страница 24

Chapter 16

“Did you empty out every charity shop in North Wales?” Stan asked as he met them at the door on their return to the Avalon, eyeing the boxes of plates, bowls, and glassware.

“Near enough,” Carrie said, passing him a box, while concentrating very hard on forgetting her entire discussion with Cyb.

“China and glass only,” Cyb told him. “And a few more tablecloths.”

Moira came trudging up the path from the gardens. “Good grief. That should keep us going.”

“That’s the hope,” Carrie muttered, and Moira gave her a sympathetic smile.

“Where’s that grandson of yours, Moira?” Stan asked, his booming voice making Carrie jump. Just as well she was holding tablecloths, not wine glasses, at the time.

“He and Jacob are working on something in the garden,” Moira said. Carrie wanted to ask what, but Moira was already moving towards the inn with a hastily grabbed box of glasses. It made Carrie nervous. She knew Nate wasn’t happy about the possibility of selling some of the grounds. She just wasn’t sure how far he’d go to stop it.

“Maybe I should go and see what they’re up to,” Carrie said, edging over to the path down to the gardens.

Stan stopped her with a scathing glance. “You forgotten so soon, girl? You can’t go now. We’ve got an appointment to keep.”

It took her a moment, but then it clicked. Stan was taking her to meet his grandson, who happened to run a discount carpet store two towns over. And getting rid of the hideous purple and green paisley on the floor of the dining room trumped whatever Nate was plotting in the gardens.

“Carpets,” she said, resigned. “Of course.”

Stan nodded. “Just take the last of these boxes in and we’ll go.”

“Great.” Carrie went to get back in the car. Somehow, she’d thought the Seniors helping would mean less work for her. As it was, she barely remembered what her tiny attic room looked like. But it would all be worth it when she saw Graeme gaze lovingly across the Willow Room at Ruth on their wedding day.

Hopefully.

Carpet Madness specialised, it seemed, in exactly the sort of carpets Carrie was trying to get rid of. At least now she knew why they were so cheap.

“This one is very popular,” Stan’s grandson told them, pointing at a heavy roll of turquoise and purple paisley.

Carrie stared at it and tried to be tactful. “Actually, I’m looking for something a bit...plainer.”

Stan looked worryingly taken with the paisley. Carrie wondered if he’d somehow been involved in picking out the original. “Can’t go with anything too plain in a hotel,” he told her, stroking the roll of carpet. “Need something with pattern. Something with colour. Something to hide the food stains and the spills and the baby vomit.”

Carrie wasn’t sure which of those was supposed to be turquoise, but she figured it might be safer not to ask. “Still, maybe something a little less bright would work.”

Stan’s grandson shrugged, then looked away as another customer came in. “Why don’t you take a wander around and see if anything catches your eye.” He was already halfway across the store before he finished speaking.

“I’m going to...” Carrie waved a hand over at the other side of the store, and, at Stan’s nod, moved away, leaving her companion looking longingly at the turquoise paisley.

Somewhere amongst burgundy pile and cream shag, Carrie’s phone rang.

“Oh, God, Carrie, I’m so sorry, but...” Ruth trailed off.

“What?” she asked, steeling herself. Because, whatever it was, two phone calls in one day meant it clearly wasn’t going to be good.

“The parents have been reviewing the guest list again, and they think they’ve found a few more families that they need to invite.”

“How many?” Carrie asked, already doing the maths in her head. They were already at full capacity with Selena’s existing list. Unless they wanted to put tables in the bar...

“About another thirty people,” Ruth said, the words sounding like stones. “Give or take.”

“That’s three more tables!”

“I know!” Carrie would have been angrier if Ruth didn’t sound so upset. “And now Graeme’s saying maybe we should postpone until next year, if we can’t get this sorted out.”

“Maybe there’ll be an epidemic of chicken pox or something, and some will have to cancel.” It was only when she heard Ruth’s squeak on the other end of the line that Carrie realised she’d said the last bit out loud. Covering quickly, she added, “Okay, don’t worry. I’ll fix it. Somehow. Just...bring the revised list with you when you come up, and I’ll see what we can do.”

But even as she hung up Carrie knew it was hopeless. If Aunt Selena was only finding additional friends and family to bulk up the list in order to rule out the Avalon Inn as a prospective venue, as she suspected, shoving a few extra tables in a side room wasn’t going to change her mind. She needed the inn at its best to even stand a chance. And now she needed it bigger, too.

She was still trying to figure out a solution when they left the carpet shop three quarters of an hour later, order placed for a chocolate and coffee swirly-patterned carpet that even Stan approved of. The mixture of browns was, he told her, the exact colours of Jacob’s beef and chicken gravies, respectively, so should work a treat for hiding stains.

Carrie was just glad it wasn’t paisley, or any shade of purple.

As they pulled into the drive of the Avalon Inn the front door flew open, leaving Cyb and Moira peering out at them.

“Everything okay?” Carrie called out, slamming the car door behind her, and already mentally running through all the other things that could have gone wrong.

She’d reached Jacob’s burnt down the kitchen by the time Moira said, “Everything’s fine. It’s just...”

“Just what?” Carrie started the list going again.

Cyb grabbed her left arm and turned her away from the inn. “Did you get the carpet you wanted?”

“It’s very practical,” Stan said, but even he was looking at the two older women in confusion. “Won’t show a thing.”

“They’re fitting it next week,” Carrie said, still staring at Moira. “So what’s going on here?”

“Um...” Moira stalled, and was saved by Jacob appearing from behind the inn. “Jacob!”

Jacob gave Carrie a wide grin. “Nate’s got some things to show you in the gardens, if you’ve got the time.”

“Well, I...” She didn’t have the time, really. Her to do list wasn’t getting any shorter, after all. But there was something going on, and Carrie really wanted to know what it was. “Sure.”

As long as it wasn’t the burnt out-remains of the kitchen, how bad could it be, anyway?

* * * *

Nate hovered inside the cutting garden, tweaking the occasional piece of twine and replanting the windmills when an overly strong breeze knocked them over. They’d heard Carrie’s car returning almost five minutes ago. Jacob had headed straight round to the front of the inn, and Nate had run for the first stop on the Nate Green Utterly Worthwhile and Self-Supporting Prospective Garden Tour. Any moment now, Carrie would arrive and he’d have to convince her of his plans.

Because if she didn’t go for them, if she didn’t keep the gardens, what place was there for him at the Avalon Inn?

“Before we start whatever this is,” Carrie said, stepping into the garden between the surrounding foliage and shrubs that kept the area secluded and staring around her at the twirls of twine, “just reassure me nothing has burnt down or broken.”

Nate smiled. “I promise. Everything is just as intact as when you left.”

“So it’s just tied up with string, then.” She glanced around the four beds again, her brow crinkling in confusion when she spotted the windmills.

Jacob was standing behind her, giving him encouraging nods, and Nate realised he had to get on with it. Otherwise Carrie would start asking questions, and he’d never get his well-rehearsed spiel spoken at all.

“Okay,” he started, after taking a deep breath. Carrie’s gaze flicked to his face, and he reminded himself again to speak slowly and clearly. “So. I know you were concerned about the value of the gardens to the inn.”

Carrie shook her head. “That’s not it, Nate. Honest. I know we need them for photos and—”

“Actually,” Nate interrupted, his tone apologetic, “this is going to be easier and quicker for both of us if you just let me say my bit first.”

“He’s been practising all morning,” Jacob put in from the path. Nate wasn’t sure if that counted as helpful or not.

“Practising what?” Carrie asked, and Nate just looked at her, trying to convey just listen and find out in a glance. It must have worked, because Carrie tucked her hands behind her back and said, “Fine. This is my best listening face. Go ahead.”

Nate tried to remember where he’d got to, and decided it was probably best to start from the beginning again. “I know you have concerns about the viability of keeping all the gardens here at the inn going, and think they might be more worthwhile as a commodity to be sold to raise more capital for the renovations.”

He paused just long enough for Carrie to nod, then went on, “I’m going to show you exactly how our gardens can earn their keep.”

As prearranged, Jacob came forward and moved Carrie to stand in the centre of the cutting garden, and spun her slowly around in a circle.

“This garden here, along with two other areas behind it, would provide the bulk of the flowers you need to decorate the inn—not just on a day-to-day basis, but for weddings and other functions too.” Nate watched Carrie’s face as he spoke. She seemed faintly intrigued, at least.

“That would be useful,” she said, reaching her starting spot again.

“And that’s not all.” On impulse, Nate grabbed her hand to lead her down the path towards his summerhouse. “We’d have the other cutting gardens here on the right, hidden from the main views from the inn but close enough for guests to walk in, if they’d like.” Carrie nodded again, and he kept plunging forward. “And then back here, tucked out of the way...” He stepped back and let her walk through the archway of trees over the path first, watching as she stopped and stared at the open expanse of grass lined with red twine.

“This is my favourite bit,” Jacob said, coming up behind him.

Carrie glanced back at them, her brow crinkled. “What is it?”

“A vegetable garden,” Nate said, grinning.

“It’ll be so great,” Jacob added. “We can grow all the veg we need for the menus, more or less. Definitely if Nate gets his greenhouse.”

“How much is this all going to cost?” Carrie asked, and Nate winced.

“Less than my kitchen will,” Jacob said, his voice cheery.

“Depends how we do it,” Nate said. “We can start small, see how it goes. That way the garden bits won’t cost too much at any one time. We can wait a bit on the new greenhouse—the one round the back is okay for now.” If he ignored the broken panes of glass, anyway.

Jacob stepped back up the path, and Nate made to follow. “It’s the next bit that’s going to be really expensive,” Jacob said, and Nate groaned.

“Not quite how I was going to sell it,” he muttered as he passed Jacob. Jacob just grinned.

Carrie still wasn’t smiling, though, when he glanced around to check she was following. “Look, I can see the potential in principle, but at the moment, with so many other things—”

“Just...” Nate interrupted, then bit the inside of his cheek and started again. “Just for five minutes, forget what you think Anna, or your uncle, or anyone else would say about it, and concentrate on what you want for the Avalon, long term.”

Carrie blinked at him, slowly. “Have you been talking to Cyb?”

“What?”

“Doesn’t matter.” Carrie shook her head. “Okay, forget about what other people want. I can do that.”

“Although, actually,” Jacob said, looking amused at the irony, “I reckon Anna would love this next bit.”

* * * *

Carrie followed Nate and Jacob up the path, already anxious. Yes, Nate’s plans looked good and would help out in a small way with the way the inn was run. But if they couldn’t afford to put them in place early and to full capacity, it wasn’t going to make a lot of difference in the short term.

And it was all very well telling her to forget about what other people wanted—as if that weren’t what she’d been trying to do since she arrived. But Carrie knew that what he really meant was ‘forget what other people apart from me want’. Part of doing it her own way meant she couldn’t go along with what other people wanted, just because they wanted them. She had to do what was best for the Avalon.

Carrie sighed. She’d be the first to admit she didn’t know a lot about gardening, but Carrie did know plants took time to grow. Probably longer to flower, and even longer to provide anything edible. And however little it cost, it still wasn’t going to be worth more than she could sell the land for.

She didn’t want to, of course. And the inn needed a certain amount of green space around it, or it lost a lot of its appeal. But the areas Nate had cordoned off for his plans were far enough away from the main house that they’d never be missed, and the tree line between them and the Avalon meant whatever they were used for wouldn’t be seen from the inn.

Which was probably why he’d chosen them, she realised. And why they were now leading her to the only other place that fitted that description: the green lawn beyond the tree line behind the inn.

It would be a shame to lose that spot, Carrie knew. The flowerbeds around its edge burst forth with colour and fragrance in the summer, and the grass was luscious and perfect for sunbathing. But it was also probably the most lucrative bit of land she owned.

Her only concern was its proximity to the inn. Once a guest came out of the terrace doors at the back, there was only the smaller grassy patch before a thin row of trees. There was even a decent gap in the centre of the tree line to allow access to the field. They’d have to beef up the number of trees if they wanted to hide whatever ended up there.

It was a worry. And it might be a terrible move. But Uncle Patrick said he could get a really good offer on that patch of land, and surely it was better to sacrifice it for the good of the inn?

“Close your eyes,” Nate said as they rounded the side of the Avalon.

Carrie pulled a face. “I’m really not going to do that.”

Smirking, Nate reached out and put a hand over her eyes. “Trust me,” he said, wrapping his other arm around her waist to help guide her.

Carrie could hear Jacob behind them, but her senses were much more concerned with the warmth of Nate’s skin where it touched her, the softness of his shirt against her arm and the hush of his breath next to her ear.

“It’s not like I don’t know where we’re going,” she pointed out, trying to distract herself from Nate’s nearness. “It’s the south lawn, right? I should tell you, that’s probably worth more than the Avalon itself.”

“All the more reason not to sell it,” Nate said.

“It’s too close to the inn, anyway,” Jacob added, and Carrie felt him brush past her right side to go on ahead. When he spoke again, he sounded farther away. “You’d see whatever they built there from the dining room.”

“I meant to ask you about that,” Carrie said, swallowing when Nate’s grip around her waist tightened as she stubbed her toe against a stone. “Could we plant more trees there? Hide it?”

“If you want to spend a fortune on mature trees,” he answered. “Or wait a few decades for them to grow up.”

“That’s not very helpful.”

Nate stopped moving, and kept his hold on her to stop her as well. “It doesn’t need to be,” he said, his voice very close and his words warm in her ear. “Because you’re not going to want to sell, once you see this.”

He moved his hand from her eyes, and Carrie blinked in the daylight. Ahead of her stood the empty lawn. “I’m not really sure...”

“Look closer,” Nate said, and released her waist.

Carrie stepped forward.

There, just in from the four corners of the lawn, were four pegs, each tied together by the now familiar red twine. And, smack in the centre of the grass next to a beaming Jacob, was an easel, which looked remarkably similar to the one usually at home in the inn lobby.

She glanced back at Nate, who was smiling smugly. “Go on,” he said.

Apparently this was part of the master plan after all, and not just a weird oversight.

Carrie did as she was told, and moved over to the easel. Jacob stepped aside to let her get closer, and she peered at the single A4 printout pinned to the board.

“What do you think?” Nate asked from behind her, too close again.

“I think Jacob’s right. This is more expensive.” Of course, it could also be exactly what she needed to win Selena over.

“We could always hire one, to start. Pass the cost on to the client, of course.” Nate reached out and tapped the printed box detailing the measurements. “It’s a perfect fit, even with heaters.”

“And it’s close enough to the kitchens to work,” Jacob put in. “Or there’s space for a catering tent with heated trays just behind it.”

Carrie stepped back again, and looked at the field with new eyes. This time, she didn’t see the fading flowerbeds, or the soft grass. And for the first time, she didn’t even see a building site, someone else’s land and someone else’s dreams.

Instead, she saw a bright white marquee, filled with music and food and high spirits.

She saw the answer to Aunt Selena’s extra thirty guests.