Page 29 of The House of Hopes and Dreams
I thought there was genuine appeal in his eyes: he really did need me. And then, there was a strange serendipity about it all, as if it was meant to be …
‘Why don’t you come and look at it now and then decide?’ he suggested. ‘You could stay at Mossby till you know where and what you’re going to do – have a holiday, cut yourself some slack!’
‘Look who’s talking,’ I said. ‘But … I suppose I could.’
‘Good, because I reallydoneed you,’ he said, and I protested no more.
Mr Revell returned to his home in the north. The arrangements for our visit were made and soon we followed him, travelling by train to Liverpool, which to me was an adventure in itself.
A carriage had been sent to convey us to our destination and although at first it seemed to me that Lancashire consisted of mills, chimneys and rows of mean houses, we were soon out in the countryside and the ground slowly began to rise.
Father had described Mossby, but it was still quite a surprise to see the white house sitting so boldly above us on a kind of bluff, with an artfully designed series of terraces leading down to the lake and woodland below. Weak sunshine sparkled off Father’s windows, with their central pattern of large octagons and smaller squares, and the plainer glazing of a kind of veranda between two curved bays.
The carriage stopped for a moment so we could admire the vista and Father informed me that the square tower at one end was of great antiquity and now connected the Elizabethan wing, which lay behind it, to the new house.
‘Mr Revell told me that he demolished a hotchpotch of later additions to clear the way for the new building, but retained the major part of the Elizabethan house, since he much admired the craftsmanship of the construction.’
‘And perhaps he was also swayed by the story you repeated to me on the way here, Father, suggesting that the most awful doom would befall the Revells should they remove a certain ancient stained-glass window from its place there!’
‘Now, my dear, you know my opinion of such things, even though Mr Revell and his sister seemed to set great store by it,’ he said. ‘But the window is unusual – you will be interested to see it, for not only is it of great antiquity, it is unusual in that it was designed by a woman – Lady Anne Revell.’
‘Yes indeed,’ I said eagerly.
12
Caged Beasts
I told the others where I was going, and before we left I wrapped my personal set of tools in a piece of sacking and Grant promised to take those and my other stuff back to the cottage later, when he finished work.
‘How’s the leg?’ I asked Carey, though his limp, as we walked to where he’d parked his car up the lane, made me suspect I already knew the answer.
‘OK.’
I stopped and gave him a look. ‘Don’t try and fobmeoff, Carey Revell! I want to hear the truth, not some über-macho lie.’
He capitulated, running one hand ruefully through his thick, red-gold hair in a familiar gesture. ‘Well, if you really want to know, the physiotherapy was excruciatingly painful, but I know I’m lucky the bones have knitted so well and I haven’t come out of it with one leg shorter than the other, which might have happened.’ He paused, then added, ‘It doesn’tlooka pretty sight, with all the lumps and bumps and patchy skin grafts, but at least it’s still there.’
‘Yes, that’s the main thing, and you’ll just have to be patient and build the strength back up in itslowly,’ I said pointedly. ‘Literally, don’t run before you can walk!’
He grinned. ‘I know, and I realize doing too much too soon would only set me back. I’ve accepted my leg is never going to be quite as good as it was, either, but eventually I’ll be able to get rid of the stick and lead a normal life.’
‘Your version of normal isn’t everyone’s, but I’m sure you will.’
‘The physio gave me a set of exercises and I’m supposed to do them every day.’
‘Then you’d better!’
He draped his free arm around my shoulders and gave me a hug. ‘There you are, you see – I need you to boss me around, now I haven’t got the nurses and physios to do it.’
‘I’m not bossy,’ I protested and he gave a derisive snort.
‘Assertive, perhaps,’ I conceded. ‘But when you’ve got the bit between your teeth on some project or other, Carey,someonewill have to stop you overdoing it.’
And at least, I thought, my role if I moved into Mossby wouldn’t be that of a carer, as it had been with Julian after his stroke. Instead of coaxing Carey to do things, I’d instead be trying to prevent him doing too much.
‘I’m going to get plenty of exercise just going over the house and grounds, getting some idea of what’s there and what needs doing, even before I start work on restoring it,’ he said, confirming my thoughts. ‘I’ve only had a quick look so far, but the house is on different levels, with lots of stairs up and down in the old part, not to mention the attics and cellars. I haven’t explored those yet, apart from the first cellar with the boiler in it.’
His strangely coloured eyes glowed with enthusiasm and Hendrix’s ‘Purple Haze’ started playing in my head. He had that effect on me sometimes, usually when I was about to be swept into one of his crazy schemes whether I liked it or not.
