One Secret Summer Page 12

  ‘Me?’ Julia said, hoping the right note of self-deprecation had entered her voice. Although she’d sooner have died than admit it, the thought of finally giving Keeler a run for his money was immensely gratifying. Immensely.

  ‘Yes, you. And don’t look so surprised. Even Munro’s had to reassess his opinion of you. You were in quite splendid form this morning. And don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about, either.’

  Julia had the grace to blush. ‘Pure luck,’ she said, as airily as she could.

  ‘Bollocks. I’ve hardly seen you all term. You’re always in the bloody library. With Keeler, I might add.’

  Julia’s blush deepened. ‘That’s not true,’ she muttered.

  ‘If you say so. Anyway, that’s not why I’m here. It’s my birthday next week. Yes, yes … I’ll be twenty-three, can you believe it?’ He looked down at her. Julia resisted the temptation to laugh. Dom still looked eighteen. ‘Anyhow,’ he continued, frowning, as though he’d read her mind, ‘I’m having a dinner party. No, not here …’ He waved a dismissive hand around the MCR. ‘At home.’

  ‘At home? What … in Norfolk?’

  He nodded, a trifle sheepishly. ‘Mother insists. She’s fed up hearing all about the people on my course. She wants to meet you all too. She knows a few people already, of course. From Eton. But she’s ever so keen to meet you.’

  ‘Me?’ Julia echoed faintly for the second time.

  ‘Mmmm. I rather think,’ Dom lowered his voice apologetically, ‘that she has hopes. High hopes.’

  Julia looked up at him uncertainly. ‘Of what? Oh, oh … I see. Um, well …’

  ‘Oh, do say you’ll come. It’ll be fun, I promise. We’ll go down on the train on Friday morning and come back on Sunday.’

  ‘Er, who else is coming?’ Julia asked.

  ‘Um, well … I did invite Keeler,’ Dom had the grace to admit sheepishly. ‘I had to. I know he wasn’t in my year but he’s an old Etonian. Mother would’ve killed me if I hadn’t.’

  Julia was silent. A weekend in the countryside with Aaron Keeler? She wasn’t sure she could stomach it. The thought of it was already making her feel ill. But it was Dom’s birthday and she knew how much he’d like to have them both there … if for entirely different reasons. She was curious, too, about Dom’s home. He said very little about it, or his parents, whom he referred to affectionately as ‘Mother’ and ‘Sir’. Hayden Hall, the Barrington-Brownes’ ancestral home, lay close to the sea in Norfolk. ‘It’s massive,’ he’d said to her gloomily once. ‘And there’s no escape. I’ll inherit the whole bloody lot when Sir goes. They’re just indulging me at the moment, I’m afraid.’ He’d stared into his half-empty glass of beer with such intensity that Julia was moved.

  ‘Indulging you? What d’you mean?’

  ‘Law. Doing the postgrad year. This is just a pastime, really. When they go, I’ll have to take over the bloody estate. I spend the rest of my life worrying about how to keep it up. You’ve no idea what it takes to run one of these country piles.’

  ‘No, I don’t suppose I would.’ Julia smiled gently.

  ‘I don’t mean it like that. It’s just … well, I don’t seem to want any of the things they want for me.’

  ‘Wife, children, a country pile, stuff like that?’

  He nodded glumly. ‘In a nutshell, yes.’ Julia hadn’t known what to say.

  She looked up at him now. ‘Of course I’ll come,’ she said simply. ‘Wouldn’t miss it for anything.’

  ‘Thanks, Burrows,’ Dom said with feeling. ‘It’ll be a bit … well, you know what I mean.’

  Julia nodded slowly. She’d never experienced it herself, but unrequited love had to be one of the very worst things to suffer. Particularly as in Dom’s case there was absolutely no hope of his feelings ever being returned. Judging from the way women threw themselves at Aaron Keeler’s feet and the way he reciprocated, he probably hadn’t even noticed Dom. Or his suffering. She hesitated for a second – she wasn’t the type to go around hugging other people, even if they were friends – and then tucked a hand in his arm. ‘You’ll have to help me find something to wear, though,’ she said, allowing herself a smile. ‘I’ve only got one evening dress. It’s yellow. It’s awful.’

  ‘Ah, yes … the Yellow Meringue, as I believe you called it. Yes, well … I’ll do my best. Black, I think. Mother says, you can’t go wrong with it.’

  ‘Help me spend some of my grant money this afternoon, then. I haven’t bought new clothes in ages.’

  ‘It shows.’ Dom only just avoided her gentle shove. ‘Thanks, Burrows,’ he said again as they headed out of the MCR. ‘Really. And don’t worry about Mother. Deep down, you know, I think she … er, knows.’

  ‘Mothers usually do,’ Julia said softly. It took her a few seconds to swallow the sudden lump in her throat.

  21

  Dom insisted on paying for first-class tickets for himself and Julia the following Friday. Aaron, Peregrine and David – the three old Etonians at Balliol who’d been invited at Lady Barrington-Browne’s express request – were going down the following morning by car. Despite her reservations about spending a weekend with Aaron Keeler and her nerves about spending a weekend on a country estate – what should she wear at dinner on the Friday night? How should Lady Barrington-Browne be addressed? Which fork did she use for fruit and did she have to drink tea with her little finger sticking out? Dom answered her questions patiently. ‘Just be yourself. Mother will love you, I promise’ – Julia was excited. For the first time since she’d arrived at Balliol, she felt as though she’d carved herself a niche. A little on the small side, to be honest – the ‘niche’ consisted of herself and Dom – but still, it was lovely to have something to look forward to at the weekend other than the law library. She’d thoroughly enjoyed the afternoon spent looking for a dress, too. In the end, Dom’s ‘infinitely superior taste’ (his words) won out. She emerged from Selfridges with a simple black dress and a pair of ‘killer heels’ (also his words).

  They took the train to Paddington and then a black cab across the city to Liverpool Street, where they boarded a second train to Norfolk. A driver would be waiting for them in Swaffham, Dom told her. From there it was a half-hour drive to Hayden. As the train pulled out of Liverpool Street and began to gather speed, Julia’s excitement grew. How long had it been since she’d had fun … real, proper fun? She couldn’t remember, which in itself was a sign of sorts. The countryside around Cambridge rose up around them in swathes of light and iridescent green; the banks of gorse showing the first yellowish haze of flowers. The wide, open Norfolk skies were blue and clear; after the gloom of Oxford Julia suddenly felt more alive than she’d done in months. She sat in the plushly comfortable seat, her nose pressed against the window, not wanting to miss a single detail.

  At Swaffham, a uniformed driver met them off the train. With her mouth hanging open, she followed him and Dom out of the small station and into a splendidly shiny black car whose cavernous interior reminded her of the train. ‘Is this yours?’ she mouthed at Dom, unwilling to let the chauffeur see just how impressed she was.

  ‘Well, it belongs to the family,’ Dom said, looking slightly discomfited. ‘I hardly ever use it myself.’

  Julia turned to look out of the window. She’d had no idea Dom came from quite such wealth. They were almost halfway to Hayden when she noticed the low wall running along one side of the country lane. ‘Don’t tell me that’s your boundary wall,’ she said, half joking.

  Dom looked even more discomfited. ‘Um, yes. I told you … it’s a leech of an estate. You’ve no idea how much it costs to run.’

  ‘No, but I’m beginning to,’ Julia said primly. She turned her head once more. They’d been driving for about fifteen minutes at roughly forty miles an hour. She made the swift calculation. At least ten miles, with another twenty-odd to go … She swallowed. Hayden Hall was bigger than all of Elswick. As they finally entered the gates and she saw the majestic line of oaks
standing like furry light green sentinels along the sweep of the driveway, she was rendered speechless. There was a blinding flash of sunlight reflecting off the car’s bonnet as they turned into the enormous circle and pulled up in front of the pale gold façade of the Great Hall.

  ‘Here we are,’ Dom cried, opening the door. The chauffeur came round to Julia’s side and opened hers, helping her awkwardly on to the ground. ‘At last!’

  ‘I’ll bring the bags up, sir,’ the chauffeur murmured as he closed the door behind Julia.

  ‘Thanks, Neil. Come on, Mother’s waiting. She’ll have been waiting all afternoon, I promise you.’ Dom held out an arm. With her mouth still open, Julia took it and together they climbed the many stairs.

  ‘Dominic!’ A woman’s voice rang out as they walked down what seemed to Julia to be an endless corridor filled with paintings, furniture, doorways and yet more paintings and sculpture until they finally turned into a private sitting room at the end. Lady Barrington-Browne rose as they entered. She was tall and exquisitely slender, dressed in a quilted skirt and jacket that Julia dimly recognised as Chanel – though quite how she recognised that was beyond her. She kissed her son carefully on both cheeks and then turned to Julia. ‘And you must be Julia. How lovely of you to come.’ She held out a hand. Julia didn’t know whether to shake it or to curtsy … Lady Barrington-Browne solved the matter by clasping her hand warmly. Her blue eyes regarded Julia with evident sympathy. ‘Dominic tells me you’re an orphan. How dreadful. Dominic is so very fond of you and I must say, I can see why. Welcome to Hayden Hall, my dear. You must make yourself at home. Immediately. Come.’ She led the way to three of the plushest, most comfortably upholstered sofas Julia had ever seen. ‘Will you have some tea, my dear?’ Without waiting for an answer, she rang a small silver bell and seconds later, as if by magic, a maid appeared with an equally silver tray. Julia took her cup with hands that shook only a little. Despite the enormous gulf in class between them, there was a warmth in Dom’s mother that she felt herself responding to. When, half an hour later, Dom’s father appeared in the doorway and greeted them both in a distant, formal way, it was clear which one of his parents had had the greater influence. There was a gentleness in Dom that was entirely his mother’s; his father barked out a couple of routine questions – all going well up there, I take it? When are you back for good? – and, having gulped down his tea, rose and announced he was off to his study. ‘Do come down for dinner, won’t you?’ Lady Barrington-Browne said to his rapidly departing back. There was a grunt of a reply and then he disappeared. She turned to both Julia and Dom and beamed. ‘I think that was a no. Well, I’ll just have to have you both to myself. How lovely.’

  Over dinner, served by two uniformed servants in a beautifully appointed dining room overlooking the vast lawn and a lake to the south of the house, Lady Barrington-Browne managed to draw out details of Julia’s childhood that she herself had forgotten. Was it the wine, perhaps? No sooner had she taken a couple of sips of the most delicious red wine she’d ever had than someone appeared with a crystal decanter and replenished her glass. There was poached salmon and tiny just-in-season potatoes with a sprinkling of dill. ‘Everything we eat comes from the farm,’ Lady Barrington-Browne said proudly. She looked at her son. ‘It’s quite an enterprise, darling. You’ll have to go through it all with Father before you go back. You’d be amazed at how well it’s doing.’

  Dom grunted, much like his father. Julia hid her smile. She looked past Lady Barrington-Browne to the trees framed in the window behind her. She felt the presence of the house and the weight of its history like someone standing at her shoulder. It was strangely comforting. ‘It’s lovely here,’ she said suddenly, without meaning to.

  ‘Isn’t it?’ Lady Barrington-Browne followed her eyes. ‘I still remember the day my husband brought me here for the first time. It was hard to say whom I loved more.’

  ‘Mother!’ Dom looked up from his plate. ‘That’s a terrible thing to say.’

  ‘Perhaps,’ Lady Barrington-Browne demurred. ‘But quite true. One day this will all be yours,’ she said, smiling at him. ‘And your children’s.’

  ‘Mother.’ There was a faint warning in Dom’s voice.

  ‘All right, all right.’ She lifted her wine glass almost defiantly. ‘I just want you to be happy, darling.’

  ‘I am happy, Mother.’

  ‘I know you are. And you’ve brought Julia to visit. I’m so pleased.’

  ‘Mother.’ This time the warning was clear.

  To cover her confusion and embarrassment, Julia suddenly found herself recounting a trip to a stately home that her parents had taken her on when she was six. All she could remember about the outing was needing the bathroom, she laughed. She had no recollection whatsoever about the house. Dom looked at her gratefully; his mother reached across the table and gripped Julia’s forearm. ‘You poor, poor girl. Losing them both like that. What a terrible shock it must have been. You must look upon us as family, dear Julia.’

  ‘Oh, I … I didn’t mean it like that,’ Julia stammered in embarrassment. ‘I … I wasn’t …’

  ‘Of course not. But I must say, you’re by far the most interesting person Dom’s brought home in a very long time. It’s usually the Etonians … the ones who’re coming down tomorrow. What are their names again? Ah, yes … Aaron and Peregrine. Quite dull, I find.’

  ‘Mother, that’s enough. Right. I’m going to show Julia the chapel and then we’re off to bed. It’s been a long day.’

  ‘Of course, darling. It’s a lovely chapel, Julia. Quite soothing. You must light a candle. Sleep well, won’t you? I’m going riding tomorrow morning but I’ll see you at lunch. Mrs McCallum’s organised the menu for tomorrow night; it’s all perfectly under control.’

  ‘As always. Night, Mother.’ Dom bent and gave his mother a kiss. ‘Come on.’ He turned to Julia. ‘She’s right. The chapel’s wonderful. Puts you in a wonderfully serene state of mind.’

  It was wonderful. Small, but exquisitely formed. The air was thick and sweet with the scent of lilies; as they pushed open the heavy oak door, Julia again felt the comforting weight of centuries of wealth and tradition. She followed Dom down the nave until they reached the altar. Rows of tea lights stood on either side of them. She followed his lead and lit one, placing it carefully in the holder on the top row. The thin, flickering light grew steadily stronger, sending shadows dancing across the stone floor and walls. She’d never been particularly religious – both her parents were lapsed Catholics – but there was something beautiful and moving about being in the presence of God, which was the only way she knew to describe it. Her lips moved in a silent prayer, but for once, there was little pain or sorrow attached. The family chapel was peaceful; when she got up a few minutes later, the world suddenly seemed lighter, clearer. She followed Dom out into the cold night air, her hands stuffed in the pockets of her coat. She slipped one into his arm and together they crossed the courtyard in companionable silence. She was glad she’d come; it had been a long time since she’d been enveloped in the warmth of a real home, as vast as this one was. It was a warmth that stayed with her all night.

  22

  The following afternoon, she and Dom were in the drawing room playing Scrabble when a maid entered to say the first guests had arrived. All morning she’d heard the sounds of preparation coming from the vast kitchen below the entrance hall – the clang of pots and pans, muted shouts, bottles being brought up from the cellar. She’d seen two uniformed maids trotting back and forth between the kitchen and the formal dining room on the first floor with plates, cutlery, armfuls of fresh flowers and bottles of wine. ‘How many people are coming?’ she’d asked in amazement.

  ‘Oh, a dozen or so. There’s the Balliol lot and a couple of other old Etonians. You’ll really like Simon – he’s been crewing round the world for the past couple of years. Then there’s my cousin and two friends of hers. Keeler rang this morning and asked if Minty could come—’

&n
bsp; ‘Minty?’ Julia’s face fell. ‘God, anyone but her. She’s awful.’ The memory of walking behind Minty and Aaron and listening to them discussing her still rankled.

  ‘What could I say? I know she’s a royal pain in the arse, but she and Keeler are practically joined at the hip these days.’

  And now here she was. Julia could hear her voice before she actually appeared. ‘Ooh, isn’t this just divine?’

  She winced, getting up from her position on the floor. ‘Well, just make sure I go easy on the champagne tonight,’ she said darkly to Dom. ‘Otherwise I might give in to temptation and slap her one.’

  Dom grinned. ‘In that case, Burrows, I’ll be plying you all night. You slapping Araminta Hedley-Tetherington? Now that I have to see.’

  ‘Dom …’

  ‘All right, all right. Keep your hair on. I’m only teasing.’

  ‘Christ, how the other half live.’ Aaron Keeler suddenly appeared in the doorway. Julia looked up. His eyes narrowed as he caught sight of her. She ignored him as best she could. Behind him, peering eagerly around the room, was Minty, followed by Peregrine and David, the impossibly foppish fourth member of their little set. Julia’s heart sank. She’d so thoroughly enjoyed herself in the past twenty-four hours that the dinner party was a rude reminder of how difficult the rest of her stay would be. She felt Minty’s eyes range over her jeans and sweater, coming to rest on her socks. In her neat little twinset with the requisite pearls strung around her slender neck, Minty looked as though she’d stepped off another planet. Planet Wealth. Oh, stop it, Julia muttered to herself, clearing away the remains of their Scrabble game. She couldn’t afford to let Minty ruin what had so far been the most enjoyable weekend she’d had in years. She followed the newly arrived guests out of the drawing room and escaped to her room as quickly as her footsteps would carry her. It was nearly four. A few more hours until dinner. She’d spend most of them reading, she thought to herself, and then she’d take a nice long bath and get ready. She almost laughed out loud. Get ready? She’d never spent more than ten minutes getting ready for anything. Tonight might be different. For the first time in ages, she felt a sudden impatience with the jeans and sweaters that were her staple wardrobe. She looked at herself in the mirror on the wall next to her bed. She really ought to do something with her hair. Shoulder-length, perfectly clean, perfectly manageable. She’d had the same cut for almost ten years. Not that you could really call it a cut … it fell away from her face in a straight line to her shoulders. Nothing to it. Tonight, however … she took a handful of it and piled it on top of her head. She turned her profile this way and that. Her ears suddenly looked very bare. Earrings? She didn’t possess any. She let her hair drop again. She was being silly. Who cared what she looked like? There was no one present whom she wanted to impress.