A Secret Garden Read online

  Still in her gardening clothes, Anthea swept into the house like an aristocratic hurricane. ‘Hello, Philly.’ She kissed Philly’s cheek in a casual way that Philly appreciated. It stated they were on the same side, even though they hadn’t really been on kissing terms before.

  Just as Philly realised they couldn’t all go back into the sitting room with Anthea and say, ‘This is our posh friend,’ Lucien came out. He seemed crushed but determined, as if he’d been tortured but hadn’t succumbed.

  His parents followed, looking as if they’d achieved a pyrrhic victory: they’d won the battle but it was giving them no joy.

  ‘Oh,’ said Anthea, ‘you have visitors. I should have telephoned before I came. I’m so sorry, Seamus!’ She saw Lucien. ‘Lucien! How are you? I haven’t seen you for ages. I must say, I’ve seen you look perkier.’

  ‘Anthea,’ said Seamus. ‘Let me introduce you to Lucien’s parents. This is Mr and Mrs Camberley, Lady Anthea Leonard-Stanley.’

  Anthea regarded the Camberleys through slightly narrowed eyes. Then she held out her hand. Philly noticed that her scrutiny had put Lucien’s parents on their mettle and that their social confidence had faded a bit.

  Having shaken hands Anthea said, ‘Have we met? You seem familiar to me, but maybe that’s just your likeness to Lucien.’ This time her narrowed gaze seemed more benign.

  ‘It’s possible,’ said Camilla, obviously honoured by Anthea’s suggestion that they knew each other. ‘Do you go to the Standforths’ garden party? Everyone I know always seems to be there.’

  Anthea shook her head. ‘Not for years, too far and too tiring. Don’t worry, I’ll think of it eventually. Seamus, darling, is it too much to ask for a cup of tea?’

  ‘We were having tea in the sitting room,’ said Philly, who felt she should show some hostessing skills however much she wanted to run away and hide in her polytunnel.

  ‘Oh, not in that dreary room. The kitchen!’ declared Anthea. ‘Until you get rid of that furniture I just can’t go in there. If only it wasn’t so bloody cold we could sit in the garden. What has got into this weather?’

  While Anthea behaved as if she was very much at home, Philly slipped into the sitting room to rescue the best china and the cake.

  Lucien joined her in there and took her into his arms and hugged her hard. ‘Oh God, Philly, what a nightmare!’

  ‘Whatever happens between you and your parents, we’ll make it OK,’ she said, finding strength from his well-muscled arms being around her.

  ‘We must stick together, Philly. They’ll separate us if they can,’ he whispered into her hair before kissing her hard.

  22

  By the time they’d gathered the tea things everyone was standing around and Seamus was pouring sherry, but as they didn’t have any sherry glasses, he was using Paris goblets instead.

  ‘Grand!’ Philly said as she came up beside him with the cake. ‘You’ll have them all under the table.’

  ‘Best place for them,’ he murmured and then handed a full glass to Camilla.

  ‘I know it’s not fashionable,’ said Anthea loudly, obviously very happy with her knockout quantity of alcohol, ‘but I like a glass of sherry about this time of day. Goes excellently with cake.’

  ‘Actually sherry is quite fashionable,’ said Lucien. ‘Although gin is more so.’

  ‘Well, if I’d known that,’ said Anthea, laughing, ‘I’d have gone for a G and T.’ She took a large sip, and addressed Lucien’s parents. ‘Have you come to see how your boy is getting on? You must be very proud of him.’

  ‘I don’t know about that,’ said Jasper. ‘We haven’t seen hide nor hair of him for nearly a year. The first couple of years after he left home he at least visited regularly.’

  ‘He decided not to take up the very nice position we found for him in the City when he said he didn’t want to go to university, but go off and be a cook instead.’ Camilla was obviously very disappointed by her son’s career choice.

  ‘But he’s so good at it!’ said Anthea. ‘Have you never eaten his cooking?’

  ‘I have,’ said Camilla, ‘but really, cooking isn’t a proper career, is it?’

  Lucien’s mouth compressed into stubbornness.

  ‘I think you don’t know how good he is at it,’ said Seamus quickly. ‘I think if you stayed for dinner—’

  ‘What a good idea!’ said Anthea. ‘I do hope I’m invited.’

  ‘Of course,’ said Seamus. ‘You’re always more than welcome.’

  Philly noticed Lucien’s mother looking between Anthea and Seamus and wondering what on earth Anthea, who was a ‘lady’ officially as well as socially, was doing among such people. She didn’t blame Camilla for being confused; she was quite surprised herself at the friendship that was blossoming between her car-mechanic grandfather from Ireland and an aristocratic woman such as Anthea. But they did seem to make each other happy.

  ‘I don’t think we can stay,’ said Camilla. ‘We’ve got quite a long way to go back.’

  ‘There’s a very nice B and B in town,’ said Anthea. ‘I’m sure you don’t want to miss this opportunity to see what your talented son can do.’

  ‘We can see what he’s done,’ said Camilla. Then she stopped suddenly, as if she’d realised she’d been about to say her son had got himself involved with a girl who had an accent. It wouldn’t have mattered what kind of accent it was. Lucien’s future wife had to share the tortured vowels of the rest of the family.

  ‘Why don’t we stay for dinner, darling?’ Jasper said to Camilla. ‘You can drink. I’ll drive home.’

  As he’d recently consumed about a tumblerful of sherry, Philly thought that his ship had sailed, but it was none of her business.

  ‘Run along then.’ Camilla addressed Philly directly. ‘You’d better go with Lucien and help him.’

  Philly smiled. ‘Actually, Lucien can manage perfectly well without me but I do have to go and check on my plants. See you guys later!’

  As she fled in the direction of her polytunnels she wondered at herself. Where did ‘See you guys later ’ come from? She realised she wanted to make herself seem as dreadful as possible in front of Lucien’s parents, just to spite them. Although she knew really she was only spiting herself.

  Philly felt soothed when she came back to the house. Time spent with plants that didn’t judge, or criticise, and responded to care even if they didn’t really love you, made you feel a lot calmer.

  Camilla and Jasper had been taken off by Anthea to see Peter’s garden, which now included a couple of sculptures that hadn’t been there before. Lucien had taken over the kitchen.

  ‘Hi,’ said Philly, seeing at a glance that he had used every saucepan in the place. Although he was a tidy cook, there was a lot of equipment. ‘Need a kitchen porter?’

  He caught her round the waist and kissed her swiftly. ‘I’d love one. And I love you – you do know that? And I wouldn’t have put you through all this for anything.’ He put his arms round her and hugged her to him. This turned into quite a long kiss.

  ‘I’d have had to meet them sometime,’ said Philly a little later.

  ‘If we’re going to be a couple, you mean? Does this mean we are going to be a couple?’ He wrapped himself round her again. ‘Mm?’ he prompted. ‘Put me out of my misery.’

  Philly laughed. She felt so happy, in spite of his parents. ‘Of course we’re going to be a couple. We’re a couple already.’

  Lucien felt obliged to seal this with a kiss and it was only catching sight of the kitchen sink over his shoulder that made Philly break away. ‘We’d better not do this now,’ she said. ‘You’ve got your parents to cook for. What are you making?’

  A quick look told her it wasn’t what his parents would no doubt describe as ‘kitchen sups’. This would be ‘Fine Dining’ with a capital ‘F’ and ‘D’. She started emptying the sink of dirty saucepans and running the hot tap.

  Lucien pushed his hair back from his forehead. ‘I thought I’d keep it s
imple. Start with a parfait; that’s in the freezer, chilling. Then a good old beef Wellington, using what Seamus probably meant to have for Sunday lunch. Didn’t have time to make my own pastry but you had some in the freezer. Then for pudding, a chocolate roulade. All pretty simple, really.’

  Philly couldn’t help smiling, mostly because she was so happy and loved him so. ‘I thought you’d push the boat out a bit, for your parents,’ she said.

  It took him a few seconds to realise she was joking. ‘They don’t deserve to have the boat pushed out.’ He frowned, looking worried. ‘They’ll bully us if we let them.’

  Concerned by his stern look, Philly said, ‘Then we won’t let them.’

  Anthea reappeared with Lucien’s parents at eight o’clock. She also brought some very good wine that Peter had given her. Lucien rejected Philly’s suggestion that they put it in the microwave to get it up to temperature and he decanted it instead. It wasn’t necessarily noticeable that he poured the wine into the jug that usually contained the flowers Philly put on their stall to make it look pretty.

  ‘Right,’ said Seamus from the head of the table, ‘let’s get the wine going. Jasper? Would you mind seeing to that side of the table? Save me reaching across.’

  ‘Hmm,’ said Camilla, narrowing her eyes at the wine her husband was pouring. ‘Unless I’m much mistaken that’s a flower vase. Have you slipped up, Lucien?’

  ‘Certainly he hasn’t,’ said Seamus firmly. ‘It’s a tradition of the house that we serve wine in a flower vase. Isn’t it, Philly?’

  Philly coughed assent and held out the butter to Camilla. She’d found a butter curler in the drawer full of kitchen utensils and had created a pile of golden curls that, according to her grandfather, wouldn’t have shamed Shirley Temple – whoever she was.

  ‘Oh, how retro!’ said Camilla. ‘I was taught to make these at finishing school.’ She glanced at Philly as if she realised that Philly must have worked out how to make them herself, as she would never have been sent off to Switzerland to acquire polish.

  ‘Have we got a drink now? Anthea, m’dear, are you only having half a glass?’

  ‘I’m driving, Seamus,’ said Anthea sternly.

  ‘In which case, I won’t drink myself and drive you back. Now, everyone?’ He raised his glass, determined to lighten the atmosphere. ‘To our wonderful chef, Lucien.’

  ‘Time will be the judge as to whether he’s wonderful,’ said Jasper tersely.

  ‘He is wonderful, take it from me,’ said Seamus, losing his bluff Irish charm for a minute.

  ‘He really is,’ said Anthea. ‘And I’m not remotely involved so wouldn’t say it if it weren’t true. Now, let me tell you, the big clear-out Kirstie is having up at the house could be getting out of hand.’ She turned to Jasper and Camilla. ‘I showed you the stacks of papers and piles of furniture? All destined for the skip!’

  ‘De-cluttering is very fashionable at the moment,’ said Camilla.

  Anthea sniffed. ‘It can go too far,’ she stated. ‘And I can’t help wondering if that girl has got her feet a bit too well under the table.’

  Camilla nodded. ‘She did give the impression she owned the place,’ she said to Anthea. ‘It must be heartbreaking for you to see your son under the thumb of someone like that.’ Then she glanced at Philly, frowned and picked up her wine glass.

  Anthea tossed her head dismissively. ‘Peter’s quite capable of looking after himself,’ she said. ‘Lucien? This pâté is really rather good. I like the toast.’

  ‘I made the bread myself,’ Lucien said meaningfully.

  ‘Back in the day we made Melba toast,’ said Camilla. ‘Rather fun!’

  ‘Did you learn that at finishing school along with the butter curls?’ asked Philly, sounding innocent but feeling she was having a dig.

  ‘Yes. Cooking in the morning, other things in the afternoon,’ Camilla explained and then turned to her son. ‘So, how was Nanny, darling? She always adored you! We always knew you were safe when you were with her. And you adored her back.’

  ‘Really? What I most remember is her truly horrible cooking and how miserable her portion sizes were. I had to go into the kitchen and beg for snacks.’

  ‘Oh, surely not—’ Camilla interjected.

  ‘And she cut my fingernails far too short and they hurt for days,’ said Lucien. ‘Anyone want more parfait?’

  ‘Never thought I’d hear those words spoken in anger,’ muttered Seamus.

  Anthea reached across the table and took another piece of toast. ‘Lorna’s son was with Kirstie. Helping her sort things out.’

  ‘How did she and Jack get on in France?’ asked Philly.

  ‘She didn’t actually go to France,’ said Anthea, ‘she went to Salcombe. But I’m sure you’ll find out soon enough. She wasn’t with Jack.’

  This was a shock, but as it wasn’t a topic for general conversation Philly looked around the table to see if people had finished. ‘I’ll clear now, shall I?’ she asked, the waitress in her surfacing.

  ‘Oh no,’ said Anthea, ‘we’ll all just pass our plates along.’

  ‘I’ll help Lucien, then.’

  For someone who was just cooking dinner for his parents, eating in the kitchen with wine served from a flower vase, Lucien took a lot of time plating up.

  Fortunately, trained by her grandfather, Philly had the plates red-hot. She watched as he carefully sliced the Wellington, cutting through the pastry, the layer of Parma ham, the finely chopped mushrooms, and finally the beef. ‘Perfect,’ he said as he saw the middle was exactly as he wanted it.

  This much, Philly understood. It was the obsessive placing she found a bit irritating. When she saw him blobbing on the gravy and pulling out the blob into an exclamation mark, she got impatient. ‘For God’s sake! Just get it on the plate!’

  But he wouldn’t be hurried. The game chips were propped into a pyramid and the mash put into a perfect pile.

  ‘At least you haven’t got the piping bag out,’ said Philly. ‘Are these ready to go now?’

  ‘We need carrots—’

  ‘We’ll just put them in a dish with the extra potatoes. Now come on! It’s only family!’

  ‘They’re testing me, Philly,’ he said grimly. ‘I need to make sure I pass.’

  She could see how hard he was concentrating on making it perfect and her heart went out to him. She had trouble with her own parents, but at least she knew they really loved her. Lucien’s parents didn’t make this at all clear. They wanted him to do well, but on their terms. ‘Of course you’ll pass,’ she said briskly. ‘You’re amazing.’

  The beef Wellington was eaten, the roulade served. Philly thought it was perfect but although when she said so others joined in, its chocolatey-lightness couldn’t dispel the atmosphere of impending doom.

  ‘We need to have a talk, Lucien,’ said Jasper, possibly irritated because he wasn’t drinking and people around him were.

  ‘Why don’t you go into the office?’ Seamus suggested.

  ‘And put the heater on if you need to,’ added Philly.

  Anthea and Camilla discussed mutual acquaintances over coffee while Philly and Seamus did their best with the clearing up. The food had been wonderful, but the quantity of saucepans and crockery was too much for the dishwasher, in spite of Philly washing up at half-time during the cooking.

  While she washed and wiped and found homes for things, she worried. Would Jasper, impressed by his favourite meal being produced, produce some funding in return?

  Eventually he and Lucien came out of the office. ‘Come on, Camilla. We’re going home,’ Jasper said curtly. ‘I can’t get the boy to see sense.’

  Lucien looked grimmer than his father did, which was saying something. Philly took his arm and drew him to one side. ‘What happened?’

  ‘It’s quite simple, m’dear,’ said Jasper, sounding patronising and overbearing at the same time. ‘I know Lucien was depending on Roderick for backing but I’d rather do it myself.’


  ‘Would you do that?’ asked Philly.

  Jasper inclined his head. ‘Under certain conditions. If Lucien wants me to back him in this ridiculous bakery project, he’s got to show commitment. That means coming back home, working for a real baker and really learning his craft. And ending his relationship with you.’ He bared his teeth. ‘No offence, but if he wants to set up a business he can’t be distracted by women. Even if they are pretty.’ He shot Philly a look implying this was not meant as a compliment.

  ‘And I refused,’ said Lucien. ‘The conditions are unacceptable. I’ll get backing from somewhere else.’

  ‘Well, you won’t get it from Roderick,’ said Jasper, glaring at him. ‘He promised me he wouldn’t give you money. He completely understood I wanted to be the one you owed money to and no one else.’ He paused. ‘I think you’ll find that if I refuse to back you, no one will.’

  Philly felt sick. ‘Lucien? Come with me to the garden. We need to talk.’

  ‘We’re not waiting for you,’ said Camilla. ‘I want to get home.’

  ‘I’m not dependent on you for transport,’ said Lucien. ‘I’ve got my van.’

  ‘Come on, Lucien.’ Philly took hold of his arm.

  It was lovely to get out of the house, away from the dominating presence of Lucien’s parents. Philly breathed in the scent of honeysuckle for a moment and then took hold of Lucien’s hand.

  ‘Listen,’ she said urgently, gripping on to him and looking up at him. ‘If they’re prepared to back you, set you up in a bakery, you’ve got to accept.’

  ‘No! Not if it means giving you up. Dad just can’t understand that. To him business has always been more important than people – than love.’

  Philly bit her lip, suddenly fighting tears. ‘But they can’t keep you prisoner for ever. When your business is up and running – or even before – I’ll come and join you. You can’t give up this amazing opportunity because of me.’