Page 17 of Escape to the Country

Tom nodded his approval. ‘Pretty amazing.’

‘Isn’t it?’ said Sam, looking back up at his home. ‘Took some doing but we finally made it.’ He laughed. ‘On the outside anyway.’

‘I didn’t think it would be so big,’ said Tom, taking in the whole place.

Having grown up in foster homes, he had been amazed that he even had a friend who could own such a lavish home. Even his expensive flat in London paled into insignificance next to such an elegant mansion.

‘Oh, we’re just your average stately home in the middle of the countryside,’ Arthur told him, smiling. ‘Vast overheads and all.’

‘We’re trying to work on that,’ said Sam, in a pointed tone.

‘Indeed,’ said Arthur, his eyes twinkling. ‘In fact, we’ve even managed to reduce our staff numbers due to the fact that my housekeeper recently left her job.’

Sam and Arthur exchanged a private smile. Tom understood that Annie had actually been the housekeeper but, somewhere along the way, she and Sam had fallen in love and were planning a wedding later in the year.

Feeling awkward at the ease with which the men shared with each other, Tom turned around to look at the quiet grounds surrounding the house. The peace and tranquillity washed over him and he could feel himself beginning to relax. There were definitely worse places in which to spend a few days.

He spotted a couple of builders’ vans parked next to what appeared to be a triple garage. ‘I thought the house was finished?’ he asked.

‘I’m not sure it’ll ever be finished,’ Sam told him with a grimace. ‘Anyway, they’re here to finish up the new recording studio in the barn.’ He pointed to an outbuilding, almost hidden behind some trees in the back of the grounds. ‘My new money-spinning project. It’s almost done,’ Sam carried on. ‘You should see it. State-of-the-art equipment. It’s all there. You must be desperate to carry on working.’

The last thing Tom wanted to think about right now was his yet-to-be-even-started-on album.

Arthur must have spotted something in Tom’s face as he stepped forward to say, ‘I should think the only thing Tom is desperate for right now is a cup of tea and to rest his foot.’

‘That sounds great,’ said Tom, breaking into a grateful smile of thanks.

Following them inside, Tom couldn’t help but stop and stare around the entrance hall. Despite the deep red walls, it was still a light and airy room. A wide, dark oak staircase curved up to the first floor. All along the stairwell were portraits of generations of the Harris family. From the double-heighted ceiling hung a chandelier, glittering in the afternoon sunshine. And when winter arrived, a large fireplace was waiting to be lit.

‘This is one of the few rooms that has actually been finished,’ said Sam, following his friend’s admiring gaze.

‘According to your fiancée, she would have preferred work to start on the kitchen instead,’ said Arthur.

‘It’s next on the list,’ said Sam, grinning. He turned to face Tom. ‘We’ve had to prioritise. It’s been an absolute nightmare, to be honest. We’re a bit behind, thanks to some dodgy builders at the beginning. But at least the drawing room is finished. As is your guest bedroom, you’ll be glad to hear. Actually, it used to be Annie’s. I’m afraid, it might be a bit girly for your taste.’

‘It’ll be fine,’ said Tom.

He had run away from so many foster homes that he had lost count of how many nights he had spent on park benches during his teenage years. So anything with a bed and a roof counted as okay with him.

Sam pointed to a large corridor on the opposite side of the hall. ‘That’s the east wing,’ he said. ‘The kitchen’s down a couple of steps at the end of the corridor if you need it. Just help yourself. But watch out for the uneven tiles with your foot. It’s still a real mess.’

‘Where’s Annie?’ asked Arthur, looking around. ‘She was very keen to meet Tom.’

‘She’s gone into the village,’ Sam told him before turning to Tom. ‘You’ll get to meet her later. How about I get you settled in the drawing room and we’ll get the kettle on.’

They were just heading into the west wing when they nearly crashed into an elegantly dressed old lady rushing out of a nearby room.

‘Darlings, look at this,’ she said to Sam, in an aristocratic tone of voice that sounded much like Arthur’s. She thrust out a letter she was holding. ‘He says he used to work here as an assistant gardener in the late eighties. Wanted to know if I could remember what the white rose was called in the front bed out there!’ She rolled her eyes. ‘Ye Gods, man. I don’t even remember which husband I was married to back then!’

Sam gave her an indulgent smile. ‘This is my Great-Aunt Rose. Aunty, this is Tom.’

She held out a bejewelled hand. ‘Just Rose will do,’ she said, with a naughty wink. ‘Lovely to meet you. So nice to have more young blood in the house. Eh, Arthur? We don’t want it turning into an old people’s home with us elderly folks, do we?’

‘Speak for yourself,’ replied Arthur in a dry tone.

‘Shall we have a little drink to celebrate the arrival of our new house guest?’ asked Rose eagerly.

Arthur’s grey eyebrows shot up. ‘It’s only four o’clock,’ he told her.