The daffodils were gone and blossom was on the trees when work on the old stable block was completed. The garden was looking fabulous too, although that always made her feel a little sad. Ben’s men had done a grand job. She hadn’t seen him again, really, since New Year’s Day. She kept away from the village, preferring to shop in the nearby towns, although she fancied she’d seen him from a distance a few times. On each occasion she’d turned tail and scurried away.

How could she face him? After all those awful things she’d said to him? She’d had a chance and she’d blown it. More than that. She’d blasted it to smithereens with dynamite.

At least she’d found something to do to take her mind off it all.

She’d spent most of January unpacking her feelings about her childhood. In her teenage years she’d just soldiered on, doing the best she could. But now, looking back on her past with the eyes of a mother, she wondered why there hadn’t been more help. Social Services had been very keen to let them know when things weren’t up to scratch, but nobody had ever offered to step in and help.

A break-just a week away from it now and then-might have made all the difference. She’d have gone back refreshed, ready to carry on. And she’d have been less susceptible to impossible fairy tales and knights. Not a knight in shining armour, but in black leather-wolves’ clothing. She sighed. Maybe that was being unfair to Toby. He wasn’t the devil incarnate; he was just immature, weak, spoiled.

Louise picked up her bunch of keys and headed out towards the stables. It was time for one last look around before her guests arrived.

In the small cobbled courtyard in front of the stables there was now a fountain and bright flowers in pots, benches to sun oneself on. Inside was even better. Four apartments, which she’d really enjoyed decorating, had all the mod cons, everything needed for a week of relaxation and pampering.

As winter had faded and the snowdrops had appeared on the hillside, she’d approached Relief, a charity that specialised in giving respite care for young people who had to act as carers for sick or disabled family members. They were desperate for more locations to send the kids, places they could rest, unwind and meet others in the same boat. On site would be a cook and general den-mother, so the guests didn’t have to do chores and cooking as they did at home, and a child psychologist would be making regular visits.

She took one last look around the apartments, checking everything was perfect. Three girls and a boy were due to arrive from London in the next hour. She plumped a cushion on one of the settees in the communal sitting room, which led on to the dining room and kitchen. She was getting too emotional about this, she knew, but she just wanted these kids to have the best. They deserved it.

CHAPTER TWELVE

BY THE end of the week, the occupants of the new apartments had stopped staring every time they saw her and were much more ready to beg for cake or tease her. Jack was really enjoying having the company too. He’d been itching for Saturday when he’d be able to join in the fun. He and Kate, the den mother, had taken three of their ‘guests’-James, Letitia and Rebecca-on a guided tour of the grounds. Not that they hadn’t explored every square inch already. But, apparently, only Jack knew all the best trees for climbing.

Only Molly had remained behind. She was a quiet, mousy girl who had only hovered on the fringes of the group all week. Louise found her in the stable courtyard when she went to collect a cake tin she’d left in the kitchen.

‘Hey, Molly! How’s it going?’

Molly dipped her head and looked at Louise through her thick, dark blonde hair. ‘Okay.’

‘Have you been having a good time?’

Molly grimaced. ‘Yes.’ She fidgeted. ‘Can I phone home?’

Louise sat down next to her. The spring air was sweet and fresh and the sun was beautifully warm on her skin in the sheltered courtyard. If she sat here for more than a few minutes, she’d have to take her cardigan off.

‘Of course you can. But I thought you already called this morning.’

Molly nodded and looked away.

‘They’re okay, you know-your family. They’ll do fine while you’re here. Relief will have sent some excellent staff to do all your usual jobs while you’re away.’

Molly looked unconvinced. ‘They might not do things right. I need to check.’

Louise dearly wanted to put her arm round the girl, but she wasn’t sure it would be welcomed. Only fourteen, and already she carried the responsibility for her two disabled parents. The psychologist had warned her that some of the children might be like this.

‘How would you like something to do?’

At this, Molly brightened. Just as Louise had guessed, she would feel less uncomfortable…less guilty…if she had a job to do.

‘You lot are eating cakes faster than I can bake them. I was planning to do a chocolate one today and I could do with an extra pair of hands.’

For the first time that week, Molly smiled. ‘Sure. I can help.’

As they measured and mixed and washed up back in Whitehaven’s kitchen, Molly began to relax a little. Louise took the opportunity to dispense a little wisdom.

‘It’s okay to enjoy yourself, you know.’

Molly frowned. ‘I know that.’

Hoping that this would be the right time, she walked over to her and put an arm gently round her shoulders. ‘You don’t have to feel guilty for being here, for having a nice time. It’s what the scheme is all about.’

Molly sniffed. ‘I know that. It’s just that I feel bad leaving Mum and Dad alone while I get to stay in a beautiful place like this…and with you. It’s too nice.’

One-handed, Louise tore a piece of kitchen towel off the roll on the table and handed it to the girl. ‘Molly…’ Oh, blow, she was tearing up too. She grabbed a piece for herself as well. ‘You work hard all year round. Much harder than other kids your age. You deserve this, you really do. And your parents would want you to enjoy yourself while you’re here, not spend the whole time worrying about them or feeling guilty.’

As she hugged Molly, she could suddenly picture her own father’s face the day she’d run home from the supermarket and told him about the modelling scout. He’d been so proud of her! And never once had he said anything to make her feel as if she was abandoning him. He’d been such a special man.

And yet, for all these years, she’d held on to the same feeling that was eating Molly alive. The girl beside her started to tremble and Louise pulled her close for a proper hug. ‘Is it really okay?’ Molly whispered.

‘Yes.’ The kitchen distorted and became all blurry. Louise’s lip began to wobble. ‘Yes, it is.’


Ben walked into Mrs Green’s shop on a crisp May morning to get his usual paper. She’d been as meek as a lamb with him since that incident at Christmas. Louise now had a most loyal supporter in her. And that was good. For Louise. The tide of opinion might turn one person at a time, but it was still turning in the right direction.

Thoughts of Louise led to thoughts of Whitehaven and its luscious gardens. He would have loved to have seen how the gardens had turned out, if they matched the vision in his head when he’d drawn up the plans. Best of all would be the places he hadn’t touched, the woods full of foxgloves and bluebells. Sometimes you had to know when to stop meddling and let things be, to let them retain their natural beauty.

He reached the counter and Mrs Green just handed him a paper without asking which one. Then she handed him a glossy women’s magazine, not one of the cheap, gossipy ones, but one of the high-fashion mags that also ran articles on serious subjects.

‘A bit old for Jas, Mrs Green,’ he said, without looking at it, and handed it back to her.

She shook her head. ‘I thought you might be interested.’

Him? He started to chuckle, but a glimpse of a pair of dark and stormy eyes on the cover made him look a little closer. Louise. She’d done an interview. He moved out of the way of the counter so the person behind him could pay and scrabbled through the pages until he found the article he was looking for. It was a long one.

He read it as he walked down the hill back to the cottage. He was working from home today. More than once he stopped in the middle of the road and shook his head. Especially when he realised he’d forgotten to pay Mrs Green. She’d understand. Then he started to smile, even though the ache in his chest that he thought had dulled a little in the last few months began to quietly throb again.

Amazing. He’d always said so. And here she was believing it. Living it.

Not only had she done something amazing at Whitehaven, she was doing the interview to raise the profile of the charity she was now patron of. Relief were lobbying the Government for new funding for child carers, not just respite care but proper practical help on a day-to-day basis.

And Louise Thornton, the woman who would rather cut off her right arm than talk to a journalist, had not only given an interview-and let the photographers into the new apartments at Whitehaven-but had opened up about her own childhood, her own lack of education, in an effort to prevent more children from living through the same things. He felt his chest expand as he read that she was planning to study part-time for a degree in child psychology.

He reached his front door and misjudged putting the key in the lock because he just couldn’t stop reading. He flicked the magazine closed so he could stare at the cover. Yes, the eyes were dark and intense, as always, but they were no longer empty.


This could be the stupidest thing he’d ever done. Apart from jumping the gun on New Year’s Eve, that was. Ben tied his dinghy on to the iron ring outside Louise’s boathouse and wondered whether he should just sail straight back across the river because, actually, he’d been right the first time. This was the stupidest thing he’d ever done.