Page 1 of Snowfall Over Halesmere House
Chapter One
Ella Grant had never before been offered a job quite like the one at Halesmere House and she jumped out of her car to stare at the building. Was this it, really? It must be, it did match online images she had seen, and the imposing Georgian house seemed to be staring right back at her through the fading November afternoon, not a single light blazing or glimpse of family to welcome her.
As she scrolled social media a couple of weeks ago, the perfect-sounding stopgap had leapt out at her on an Instagram post. It seemed that Halesmere, deep in the Cumbrian countryside, required a person with energy and ideas to relaunch it as a holiday home in the New Year. She had applied at once, and after a few straightforward emails and a friendly Zoom chat, she had been excited to accept the position when it was offered.
She had never been made redundant before and this sudden change in her circumstances was partly voluntary. When the high-end catering company for whom she worked had been acquired by another larger one, some roles had become surplus, including hers; and although the new owners had wanted to discuss the potential for promotion, she’d taken the redundancy offer they were required to make and leapt back out into the world, unemployed for the first time ever.
A decision she still hadn’t quite got her head around yet, a bit like the one that had drawn her to this glorious place. Evergreen ivy clung to stone walls and shutters were fastened across windows, barring her a view of the rooms. To her left was a snug cottage, attached to the house by an archway. She already knew from her research that the arch led to old stables and a barn set around a courtyard.
Thanks to the satnav trying to direct her to a dead end, Ella was fifteen minutes late, hoping someone was still there to meet her. She marched across the gravel drive and pressed an old-fashioned bell, not entirely surprised when a response wasn’t forthcoming. She tried the cottage as well and although a dog barked inside, nobody came to greet her. There were no vehicles on the drive beside hers and she was beginning to think she had been forgotten.
She wasn’t a person who sat still for long and locking herself in the car to stay warm didn’t appeal. Maybe she’d squeeze in a run; it was one of the ways she liked to keep fit and she couldn’t quite find enough peace in her days without it. She knew there was a tarn somewhere beyond the garden but heading down there now for a swim was hardly an option at this time of day, when it was getting dark. She fastened her coat and set off to explore. If she couldn’t find anyone soon then she’d have to try to contact her new employer by phone.
As she walked around she saw that the courtyard was rather tired, some of the old stables boarded up, with clumps of weeds in places and patches of moss covering the cobbles. Ancient terracotta pots stuffed with winter bedding plants made the place more cheerful, and two pots sat at either end of a rusty metal bench. A black gate set into a low wall offered a glimpse of curving steps leading down to a door, a tiny sunken space that passed for a garden outside it. Another door was set in a high stone wall concealing the gardens surrounding the main house, and she heard a chicken squawking indignantly somewhere out of sight.
‘Ella?’
‘Oh!’ Ella, who had both hands cupped to her face trying to see through a dirty window, spun round to find a woman she recognised from their Zoom as Noelle Bourdon. Noelle was even more attractive in person; willowy and elegant with grey curls escaping from a sheepskin Cossack hat, and lined, still-beautiful skin. An exquisite wool coat was tightly belted, a scarlet splash against the dull afternoon, a black scarf draped round her neck. Ella spent most of her life in sports kit or chef’s whites and wished she could pull off such style with the same ease and elegance. Perhaps she’d need to be French to do that, like her new employer.
‘Yes. Sorry, my hands are cold.’ Ella held one out. ‘It’s lovely to meet you in person. I hope you don’t mind; I was just having a wander as there wasn’t anyone in the house. I wouldn’t have minded a swim in the tarn but it’s a bit dark for that.’
‘Pas du tout. Not in the least, welcome to Halesmere.’ Noelle clasped Ella’s hand with both of hers, shaking it firmly. ‘I am glad that you found us, it can be tricky if you do not know the way. I am sorry for not welcoming you when you arrived, I had forgotten to mention that I was collecting my grandchildren from school.’
Ella found the switch from French to English charming. It might be helpful, she thought, if she brushed up on her own very rusty French. Noelle drew two children forward and Ella offered them a reassuring smile.
‘Hello, you must be Lily and Arlo. My name’s Ella but I don’t think it’s as nice as yours.’
The children were both gorgeous, with identical honey-brown eyes and cautious faces dusted with freckles, and the little boy still possessed a childish roundness that his elder sister did not. Strands of red-gold curls were escaping from the plaits over Lily’s shoulders and Arlo’s floppy fringe nearly reached his pale red eyebrows.
‘Mes chéris, remember I told you about Ella this morning? We are going to get to know her well over the next few months as she’ll be working here and helping to take care of you.’
‘Papa didn’t tell us, Mamie. Does he know about Ella? I think he would have told us if he did.’
Lily’s gaze was concerned, and Ella saw anxiety flit across Noelle’s face. ‘All will be well,ma chérie. Papa and I have spoken about your care and there is nothing for you to worry about.’
‘If had to guess I’d say you’re in Year Two, Lily, and Arlo is Year One,’ Ella said to distract Lily from her moment of worry. ‘Have I got that right?’
‘Arlo’s the baby, he’s only four so he’s in Reception. I’m in Year Two. I’m six, nearly seven. It’s my birthday next month.’
‘I’m not a baby, Daddy says you’re to stop calling me that.’ Arlo went to shove his sister, scowling as she skipped neatly out of his way.
‘I’m going to tell Papa you pushed me!’ Lily’s voice was a wail as she gave her brother an angry glare and tried to poke him in the ribs.
‘So am I! You started it!’
‘Faire taire maintenant, no squabbling.’ Noelle’s tone was mild as she took a firm hold of Arlo’s hand. ‘It is not necessary, you don’t want Ella to think you are always fighting, do you? We want her to have abonneimpression of ourfamille.’
‘You must be excited about your birthday, Lily.’ Ella hoped to get her on to a happier subject than squabbling with her brother.
‘I want to have a party, but Papa hasn’t decided yet.’ Lily gave an exaggerated sigh. ‘I’m not allowed to invite the whole class, he said it’s too many.’
‘Okay.’ Ella had little experience of children’s events. Some of her former colleagues had children and they seemed to spend their weekends on a never-ending round of parties, watching their little ones slithering down slides or getting up close and personal with a range of interesting animals.
‘Your hair is a pretty colour.’ Lily was staring at Ella, and she laughed.
‘Thank you, Lily, I’m glad you like it.’ Ella smoothed her pixie crop from her face. She would need to find a new stylist before long; she could hardly keep driving back to her favourite one in Brighton to have her roots touched up. ‘I like it lilac too, it’s one of my favourite colours.’
‘Mamie, may I have short hair like Ella’s please?’ Lily gave Noelle a hopeful glance. ‘Then Papa won’t have to plait mine for me.’
