The Perfect Retreat

CHAPTER TEN




‘I won’t do it,’ said Merritt to Kitty firmly.

‘Why not?’ she pleaded with him.

‘I don’t want all those film wankers traipsing over our house and ruining things,’ he said.

‘Thanks very much!’ said Willow.

‘Well, it’s true,’ he said indignantly. Ever since Willow had come back from London yesterday with the news, he had been fighting against having the shoot at Middlemist.

‘You’re crazy, Merritt,’ said Willow. ‘Simon says this is a huge film. You could get most of the work done outside without any disruption, and the production will pay for everything. Harold Gaumont is a genius and his films are always brilliant, and the time period’s always depicted perfectly. Stop being a bullheaded idiot and do it for god’s sake.’

Merritt looked at her with dislike. ‘How dare you tell me what to do?’

‘Get over yourself,’ she said to him. ‘The house is half Kitty’s. What do you want to do, Kitty?’ She turned to her and waited.

Kitty looked between her brother and her employer and paused. What Willow was saying made sense and she knew that it would take a miracle to be able to do up the house. Maybe this was what they needed. She wanted to see Willow back to work, for Willow’s sake and for her own. She took a big breath. ‘I agree with Willow. I think you’re being bullheaded. You’re not thinking about what Middlemist needs, just what you want,’ she said carefully.

Merritt looked at her strangely. She’d never gone against his word before. When Edward died she had agreed with all of his choices for the funeral and the burial and had even agreed to leave Middlemist, pretending she had a friend to go and stay with for a while, even though he had since found out she’d had nowhere to go at the time.

Willow sat with her arms crossed in the living room looking at the strange pair of siblings, so completely different to each other. Merritt looked at Willow. ‘Alright, you win. But if even a daffodil bulb is ruined I will hold you liable,’ he said.

‘Whatever,’ said Willow, repeating Poppy’s phrase, and Kitty laughed out loud.

Merritt glared at his sister as she tried to stop laughing, but tears fell down her cheeks.

‘What’s so funny, Kitty?’ asked Willow, bemused at her nanny’s hysteria.

‘I don’t know. Everything’s funny at the moment. Us being here, the film, Poppy finding the ring and the papers, and the fact that Merritt does have a head a bit like a bull, if you look at it closely.’

Willow looked at Merritt. He didn’t look like a bull to her. When he was being pleasant he was almost handsome, she thought, in an outdoorsy sort of way.

Merritt sat sulking in his chair. ‘I need a drink.’

‘Yes please!’ called Willow as he left the room.

‘He hates me now,’ said Kitty, the laughter leaving her.

‘No he doesn’t, he’ll get over it. He’s just angry because he knows it’s the right thing to do even though he doesn’t want it,’ said Willow.

‘You think?’

‘I think he has been alone for so long he’s always had his own way, so considering other people isn’t really something he’s used to,’ said Willow knowingly. Growing up with therapist parents had taught her a thing or two about people and their actions. Shame she didn’t apply it to Kerr when she met him, she thought.

Merritt walked into the room with a bottle of claret and three glasses as a peace offering. Opening the bottle, he poured for the women and then sat in the chair opposite them.

‘It’s not that I don’t think it’s a good idea in theory, but I am so overwhelmed with the details, trying to fix up the house and work out where the money will come from. The garden I’m all over, but I can’t afford a proper interior designer to get it back into shape inside. I don’t know the difference between a chaise longue and a credenza.’

‘Don’t look at me,’ said Kitty throwing her hands up. ‘I have no idea about that stuff either.’

‘I do,’ said Willow slowly. ‘Let me come up with a few ideas. I won’t be like a real interior designer, but I can pull pages from magazines and books and give you a feel to get you started,’ she offered.

It was her favourite thing to do. She would be so excited if Merritt let her. Merritt raised his hands as if surrendering.

‘Whatever,’ he said, and they all laughed.

On the morning that Harold Gaumont was due to arrive for the appraisal of Middlemist, Willow was in a flap.

‘Kitty, keep the children away if you can. I don’t think he likes children. Well he doesn’t look like he would like them,’ she called down the hallway from her bedroom.

Poppy screwed up her face as Kitty dressed her. ‘I don’t like him then either,’ she said.

‘Shhh,’ said Kitty as she brushed Poppy’s golden curls and put a red ribbon in her hair.

‘Where’s Lucian?’ Kitty asked.

‘Out with Mewwitt,’ said Poppy.

Kitty lifted her off the bed and set her on the floor. ‘Go and watch Jinty while I make the beds,’ she said, and Poppy ran down to the playroom where Jinty sat surrounded by Merritt’s old building blocks, which Kitty had found in the nursery.

Lucian had taken an immediate liking to Merritt, following him around the garden and watching him work. Merritt kept up a continuous monologue with Lucian, as he had seen the mother and father do with the child in Florida, and occasionally Merritt saw Lucian open his mouth to speak.

Willow didn’t mind Lucian being out with Merritt; in fact she encouraged it. It meant he was less likely to follow her around, which got on her nerves, she had to admit.

Willow had dressed carefully for this next meeting with Harold. She wanted him to see her at her best, and considering the limited wardrobe she had brought with her to Middlemist, she had managed to pull together the appropriate look, she thought.

Black, tight Calvin Klein pants and black suede ankle boots – a neutral base – but on top she had taken her lace Chloé blouse and layered over it one of the red Victorian hunting jackets that Poppy had found in the eaves.

She and Kitty had gone through all the trunks upstairs and had found clothes from nearly every era. It was a costume party shop’s dream, and Willow looked the part today with the blouse, the jacket and another discovery: a beautiful golden brooch with what looked to be a plait of hair inside it.

Willow made her cheeks a little flushed and applied eye makeup. She had washed and dried her hair, setting it in rollers so it hung in gentle rolls down her back, and sprayed herself with the violet water, which surprisingly still smelled quite fresh, that she found in the bathroom cupboard. Applying a quick sheen of nude lip gloss, she ran down the stairs two at a time.

Merritt looked up as she came bounding down towards him and he felt his stomach give way. She looked beautiful. Not like the pale, harassed woman he had seen over the few days he had come to know her.

She smiled at him and stood posing on the steps. ‘Enough?’ she asked.

‘More than enough,’ he smiled, looking at her in a way that Willow hadn’t seen for a long time, and she felt her stomach flip.

‘Thanks,’ she said, blushing. ‘Sorry about bullying you into this, but I do think it could be the miracle you need to save Middlemist.’

Merritt shrugged his shoulders. I gave up on miracles a long time ago, he thought, but he said nothing and put his hands in his pockets.

Merritt had washed his hands for the occasion, but that was it. In his old work boots, trousers and flannel shirt he looked like a roadside labourer, but Willow knew it didn’t matter. Harold was here for the house, not for its owner.

Merritt heard a car pull up and opened the large Gothic front doors. The driver came around and opened the door to the Bentley. Harold emerged. ‘Hello. I’m Merritt Middlemist. Pleased to meet you,’ said Merritt, stretching out his hand.

‘Indeed,’ said Harold, taking the hand in his tiny paw and looking beyond Merritt at the house. ‘What a grand dame.’

‘Yes, she is wonderful, although a little tired I’m afraid,’ said Merritt apologetically. Harold waved his apology away.

‘Willow, how lovely you look.’ He kissed Willow on each cheek as she emerged from the house. ‘Is this your lovely boyfriend then?’ asked Harold, looking at Merritt.

‘No, no. No. Not at all. Of course not,’ said Willow, suddenly nervous.

Merritt looked down. ‘No, I’m the brother of her nanny. She’s staying with us,’ he said.

‘Not that I meant it would be terrible. God, I sounded so rude. Of course you could be my boyfriend. Oh dammit!’ she said, fumbling over her words.

‘No offence taken,’ said Merritt, still looking down. Harold watched them with interest.

‘Show me the house then,’ said Harold, and Merritt and Willow walked him through it, which took over an hour.

‘I would like to sit now. The lovely drawing room at the front would be fine,’ said Harold, and Willow led the way back.

‘Can I get you tea, or something else?’ she asked, hoping he wouldn’t ask for coffee, thinking of the pot sitting on the stove back in London.

‘A water would be fine,’ he said to be polite, and Willow left the room. He and Merritt sat in comfortable silence.

The double doors at the other end of the room, leading into the billiard room, were flung open. An angry Poppy stood in the doorway.

‘Why don’t you like children?’ she demanded to know of Harold.

‘I do like children. Wherever you’re getting your information from, I would consider getting a new source,’ said Harold, not at all fazed by Poppy’s arrival.

‘I only like sauce on chips,’ she said. She walked over to Harold and stood in front of him. ‘Mummy says you don’t look like the sort of person who would like children, so she told me and my brother to stay away.’

Merritt sat watching the precocious child, who reminded him so much of Willow. He tried not to laugh.

Willow walked into the room with Harold’s water and glared at Poppy. ‘Poppy darling, why are you in here?’ she asked, her voice steely.

‘I wanted to see the man. I’ve seen him now. He does like children, Mummy, you were wrong. And he doesn’t want water, he wants sauce,’ she said, smiling angelically at Harold.

Harold laughed uproariously. ‘What a mind she has. A wonderful child. Tell me – what’s your name?’

‘Poppy.’

‘That’s very pretty.’

‘I know. What’s your name?’

‘Harry,’ said Harold.

‘That’s a good name. His name is Mewwitt. It’s a silly name. I’m not being rude – even he thinks so, don’t you Mewwitt?’

Merritt nodded his agreement and Poppy sat down close to Harold. Willow sat down and tried to give Poppy a look to tell her to leave but Poppy ignored her and crossed her legs, like her new friend Harry.

Harold spoke. ‘Merritt, I understand this is a terrible inconvenience but we are prepared to do all the legwork in the gardens and inside where we need to get things up to scratch. While we won’t be planting anything, we will need to get the fences and the retaining walls fixed and some of the gardens cleared. I imagine it would be quite costly to do.’

‘Yes, the costs are high,’ said Merritt with a sigh.

‘We would require a month to get the house ready for production and we would be here for six weeks for the shoot. I can get my assistant to send you over all the details. We will pay you a weekly fee for use of the house and also a fee for any props we use. You can guide us on the garden work, as we would like it to be as authentic as possible, and we will also give you a credit for the work in the film,’ said Harold.

Merritt sat stunned. He had no idea it would be as easy as this. He looked at Willow, who was smiling at him, and she raised her eyebrows as if to say, ‘I told you so.’

‘I suppose there’s nothing else to say. Send me the details and I’ll get back to you,’ said Merritt.

As he and Willow saw Harold off back to London, he turned to Willow excitedly.

‘You’re a life saver,’ he said, and he picked her up in his large embrace. He spun her around and then he kissed her on the mouth quickly. ‘You’re amazing. I’m going to find Kitty,’ he yelled, and he ran back into the house.

Willow stood in shock at the kiss. Although it was chaste she had felt a stirring in her that she had forgotten existed. Merritt’s arms were so strong and he was so tall, she felt tiny next to him. She stood in the driveway, watching Harold’s Bentley navigate its way around the potholes.

For the first time in a long time, she felt excited. About what, she wasn’t sure, but it felt better than being depressed, and for that she was grateful.





Summer