Truly I do (16 page)

The late
January air was bitterly cold, colder than December by far. She was
glad of the excuse to pull her duffle coat hood over her face as
she rushed down through the village toward Russell's old home. She
was right about one thing, when she got there it was clear that he
didn't live there any more. The place was empty and dark. Looking
through the leaded window panes she found it hard to believe how
quickly all traces of him had been cleared away. Even as she turned
to rush up the path and o to find out about a car, she felt that
the gardens were a little more dead and lifeless than the last time
shed walked through them. The big January freeze had caused the
last few vestiges of the summer cottage garden to go black and
brittle and to sink away into a horrid mass on the ground. She
hurried away, not wanting to dwell on the cold lonely feeling of it
all.

Next stop was
a cosy little terrace of three red-brick cottages with splendidly
tall, twisted and ornamented chimneys. She saw the lights on and
was glad to be greeted by the young wife of the couple who were
going off on their foreign adventures at the end of the following
week. The girl, Marie, was glad to be able to get rid of her car so
easily. She'd envisaged having to leave it in the hands of a local
garage and hope that the money didn't take too long to come through
if and when it was sold for her. So Julie-Anne's proposal to buy it
immediately couldn't have suited her better. They signed the
ownership documents over to Julie-Anne, Marie helped her with a
phone call to the insurance company and finally the keys were
handed over. Julie-Anne was mobile. Nothing to stop her travelling
up to Yorkshire straight away.

"You'd better
go home and pack a few things to take with you first!" Marie
laughed. "I can see why you're eager to get going but I'd feel
better if you'd just slow yourself down a little bit
Julie-Anne."

"Yes, you're
right. Thank you!" Julie-Anne agreed.

At home again,
with the little blue car parked in her driveway, Julie-Anne forced
herself to walk methodically through the cottage making sure
everything was tidy and in good order. She went to her bedroom and
pulled out her suitcases. Carefully rearranging some of the clothes
she'd taken to New Zealand and exchanging some of those for warmer,
more suitable outfits for a winter trip around England. Now there
was nothing let but to get on and go. She glanced around - and
went.

*

This time the
journey north seemed flanked by cold grey-white skies and dismal
blackened scenery. The fields were bare, devoid of the life that
would bud and flourish in them in a few short weeks. The forests
were dark, spooky looking places with blackened floors and
skeletal, mean looking trees. The glimpses of rivers and pools of
water that had seemed so enticing last time looked still and
freezing, without their sparkle, promising nothing other than a
chilling sting of merciless cold. Julie-Anne sped past it all,
working hard at concentrating on her driving and at not driving too
fast.

She'd decided
that as good a starting place as any, for her search for Russell,
would be that little hotel they'd stopped at before. He would not
be there, but it would give her a base to work from and the
familiarity of it seemed comforting. She did not stop in Harrogate
this time but drove directly to her destination, praying that there
would be a room for her. She was in luck. The receptionist
remembered her, smiled warmly and gave her the key to the same
room.

The little
cream and red room with it's gothic style window seemed snug and
cosy. She felt greeted by it, it felt as if she really was being
given a second chance. She was back to the place where things had
started to go wrong, now she could branch out from here and put
things on the right track again.

Immediately
after a hastily eaten breakfast, Julie-Anne got the hotel staff to
provide her with the telephone numbers for the main local estate
agents. It was not very long before, with a bit of internet
searching alongside the receptionist, Hillary, who was being very
sweet and understanding, Julie-Anne had managed to track down the
location of a recently sold ten bedroom estate - just slightly
north of where she was now staying.

The sky was a
heavy, smoky white and the air was full of January mizzle which
soaked her to the skin as she walked excitedly to her little car.
She was wearing on of the neatly tailored suits she'd bought that
day in Harrogate. The pencil skirt was cut to just above the knee
and she felt the winter cold in her legs for a while until the
little car warmed up. 'This is surreal!' she thought to herself as
she drove along unfamiliar roads, impatient to reach her
destination. Cautious of her lack of driving experience she kept
her speed steady and tried to ignore the constant feeling of
disorientation as unfamiliar landmarks were ticked off from her
list of directions.

Finally she
came to a pretty little white gate lodge that she'd seen in the
internet pictures of the place. 'Ye gods!' she thought, I'd think
he was doing all right if he'd just moved into that place. She sat
for a while with the engine purring while she gazed at the cosy
looking cottage. Eventually there was nothing for it but to release
the hand brake and start to make her way up the drive. An avenue of
young lime trees marked her way until the gravel deepened and she
was in a circular turning area among the outbuildings of the
property. She continued through an archway among the impressive
Yorkshire stone built stable block and ultimately came to rest in a
cobbled parking area alongside a black mini cooper.

With trembling
knees, Julie-Anne stepped from her car and stared up at the giant,
Georgian house. The west, north and south walls of the tall,
tastefully symmetrical building were build of tactile Yorkshire
stone which looked warm and elegant even on this grim January day.
Walking around in search of the entrance she caught a glimpse of
the east facing frontage which overlooked magnificent landscaped
gardens. That wall was finished in a smooth render which was
painted a soft terracotta-cum-peach colour and made the place look
even more elegant and stylish.

Julie-Anne
stopped at the big, double entrance doors and sucked in a big
breath before pushing the bell. Almost instantly the door opened by
a woman with dancing grey eyes and a pretty face. Julie-Anne found
herself gawping anxiously at the neat little woman, she was in her
mid fifties, dressed very smartly in a black suit with a pretty
white blouse and sensible shoes.

"Yes?" The
woman smiled.

"Erm, I'm
Julie-Anne. Is Russell here?" she blurted awkwardly.

The woman
glanced up at the sky before replying, "You'd better come in, I'll
go and see if Mr. Bryson-Steinar is at home.

The woman
stepped aside with an air of quiet courtesy allowing Julie-Anne to
step in to a vast entrance hall.

"Please wait
here." The woman told her, and walked demurely away into the
house.

Julie-Anne
stood looking at her surroundings. She tried to be matter of fact
as she absorbed the beauty of the checkered limestone floor; teal
blue walls; moulded cornices and cove and ornamental columns. The
area was brightly lit, even on a day such as this, when daylight
poured in through the high Georgian windows. To her right was a
pretty stair case with delicately carved, white balusters holding
up a richly polished mahogany hand rail. The stairs were carpeted
in a salmon pink which was a soft reflection of the colour used on
the outside of the house. The first rise went up to a short landing
where the stairs turned alongside a graceful, high arched trio of
windows. Looking up at the windows on the stairs Julie-Anne could
see the tops of some trees but mostly the view was of the sky and
the window fulfilled its purpose of letting in even more light.

'Let's have
the party right here!' Julie-Anne thought, looking around. 'You
could fit the whole of a modern home inside this entrance hall I
reckon.' She looked at the acanthus leaves and swags carved into
the marble surround of the fire place opposite the stairs, and then
began to wonder what treasures lay beyond the doors that led off
from this impressive first reception.

She jumped
when movement brought her attention back to the stairs. Swinging
around to look up she saw Russell standing in front of the high
window looking down at her. His expression was not friendly. His
eyes were dark and the lines around his mouth set in a grim,
serious aspect. His impenetrable gaze and inscrutable countenance
barred her from guessing his thoughts.

Moments later
the neat little lady who had let Julie-Anne in returned through one
of the doors. "Ah!" she said, "I was looking for you." Julie-Anne
thought the woman looked gloomy about the fact that circumstances
had prevented her from controlling whether or not Russell and she
came into contact this morning.

"It's fine
Della, thanks. This is Julie-Anne, we'll take coffee in the drawing
room if you don't mind organising that?"

Della smiled
as if she knew a secret. "I'll send the girl," she answered tartly
and spun on her heals to go and arrange the coffee as
requested.

Suddenly
Julie-Anne felt very small and insecure. Watching Russell come down
the remainder of the stairs she saw that he was every bit the
country gentleman. He wore a fitted, single breasted semi-hacking
jacket cut from a brown checked, Saxony cloth, sueded moleskin
trousers in a light taupe shade and very highly polished black
brogue shoes. His wide shoulders and strong legs were made all the
more masculine by this mature and imposing style of dress. His
blonde curls remained untamed and still haloed his head, his blue
eyes, now that he stood in front of her, were still just as
enticing when Julie-Anne looked up into them. There was no trace of
the smile that usually played on the corner of his lips. She tried
not to stare at his mouth, tried not to make a fool of herself by
throwing herself at him - but it was hard.

"Come to see
what you turned down Julie-Anne?" He asked her brusquely.

'Had I turned
him down?' Julie-Anne wondered. She tried to think back to New
Year's Eve. But all she could really remember was fear, darkness
and loneliness associated with that night. 'I didn't accept his
proposal - that's true. But was that it? The end of the line? What
am I supposed to do now?' her thoughts raced and chased but she
could not think what to say aloud. She stood there staring at
Russell. Her skin had blanched at the shock of his cold greeting,
her knees trembled and she felt nauseated by her own dumbness. But
this time, she resolved, however panic stricken, however confused
of concerned she felt - she was not going to run away again. 'In
fact if he wants rid of me this time he's going to have to forcibly
make me go, I'm not running away from him ever again.'

"I think we
need to talk." She finally said.

He raised his
eyebrows and sighed as if to tell her that she was being tedious.
"Very well, Julie-Anne. Let's go and have coffee." He led her
through the door, in to a huge, airy, light drawing room. Her heals
clicked on the glossily polished, stripped wooden floor boards and
she wondered whether it would have been polite to have slipped her
shoes off before going further into this palatial house. The room
had a double aspect, one row of giant Georgian windows looking out
over formal lawns; the other row looked into the courtyard and
stables area showing that the buildings were actually arranged in a
Romanesque quadrangle. Light flooded in. The imposing fireplace had
a wood and marble slip surround. There was a mahogany serving
table, polished so well it almost glowed against tall, white walls.
The room had an arched, semicircular recess that seemed to offer
sanctuary from the very formal and spacious layout of regency
chairs and two-seater's that were so formally organised in the vast
space. Julie-Anne subconsciously noted a couple of big,
impressionist paintings on the walls and drew in a tiny breath at
their quality and beauty.

Mischievously
she wanted to throw some of the cushions on the floor and relax.
Instead she perched her petite frame on the edge of a Queen Anne
style white wood arm chair with white upholstery, opposite Russell
who had slumped down into a softer white damask armchair.

A girl burst
through a door at the back of the room and juggled a tray of coffee
while she arranged a small table in the space between them. Putting
the coffee down carefully she half whispered, "Will there be
anything else, sir?"

"No, thanks
Patti. Go back and help Della will you. She's doing a new inventory
in the Library before the contract cleaners come to see to the
books and books cases in there."

Patti looked
as if she would curtsey which brought a twisted smile of irony to
Julie-Anne's mouth. It was awesome to see Russell behaving so
dominantly and masterly with his staff. 'Mind, they're probably
easier to control that a class room full of unruly teenagers,' she
thought wistfully, remembering his recent past.

Russell leaned
out of his chair to take his coffee and, settling back down among
the plump cushions, said "Well?"

"It's a
beautiful place." Julie-Anne cast her eyes around to indicate her
appreciation of Russell's choice of country seat.

"Hmmn. It's
going to be a full time occupation taking stock and getting it all
properly under my management. But overall it seems quite suitable."
Russell's cold response was obviously measured to let Julie-Anne
know that he was not going to let down his guard. It would not be
easy to get him to forgive her - if he ever would at all.

"I'm so sorry
Russell," she blurted, emotionally. She looked across at him and
wished with all her might that he would smile that radiant smile of
his and hold open his arms for her to come back to him.