Chapter Thirteen

Jenna had been flicking through a fashion magazine, looking eminently bored when they reached the museum. Kate wouldn't have minded so much, had she not been lying full length on the church pew and padded a cushion out of a jacket that had been left on a picnic bench earlier that day.

The girl didn't even look up guiltily or try to sit upright or anything like that. She just gazed lazily at Kate and licked her finger to turn the page. Then her eyes moved to Theo and flared, momentarily. ‘Hello, Theo. Great to see you again.' It was only then that she stretched and sat upright. ‘What brings you here?'

‘I've got business in the area and I had half a ticket to use up.'

‘Oh. I'm afraid that's quite unusual, and I don't think I've ever experienced that before. Let me see it. Just for proof.' She put her hand out expectantly, completely ignoring Kate.

‘Jenna, you can leave now.' Kate was curt. ‘Theo doesn't need to prove he's got a ticket. I can remember selling it to him.'

‘Of course you can.' Her voice was smooth, creamy and completely insincere. ‘Oh, well. If you don't need me, I'm happy to go. There's nobody left on site anyway. I'm not surprised. This place is dull as ditch-water. I'll be glad when I finish my penance here. Bye, Theo. See you soon.' She stood up and grazed a fingernail gently down his chest. ‘I'll be at the wine bar later.'

Theo just smiled and stepped to one side, allowing Jenna to slither out.

‘Jeez,' muttered Kate as Jenna vanished into the late afternoon, eyeing up Theo's van as she passed it in the car park, assessing it, Kate thought bitterly, as if she was planning to lie full length in the back of it. ‘I don't mind anyone having a bit of fun, a bit of downtime, but she's so . . . nasty with it. She doesn't want to be here, and I don't want her here. If her father wasn't the Chair of the Board . . . anyway. Here we are.' She swept her hand around expansively. ‘You can see what a marvellous collection of clocks we have. My favourite is the cuckoo clock.' She smiled and pointed to the little wooden clock on the wall.

Theo nodded towards it. ‘Does it still work?'

‘Oh, yes. He still pops out and says "hello" to me. And strikes the hours. I adore him. But come on. I'll lock up properly and then I'll take you through into the proper museum. Hurrying around an hour before closing is fine, but nothing beats really looking at it.'

* * *

Theo followed Kate into the first room. She led him over to a case filled with little bits of paper and other oddments. She smiled. ‘This is lovely and wasn't here last time you came — it's things they found when they were renovating the old school building. Ephemera that must have dropped out of pockets or been stuffed in the floorboards by bored children.'

She pointed out sketches of airplanes and soldiers, and explained that during the war, evacuees were assembled there before being farmed off to families in the surrounding countryside. She showed him old chocolate bar wrappers and scrappy bits of schoolwork that had been lost to time; and, comically, one boy's school report. He hadn't done very well, and Theo wasn't surprised he'd ‘misplaced' the report before it got home.

‘They should really be in the school-room exhibit, but they're sort of in-transit. Like I say, they're quite new to us, and we haven't got the space sorted out yet. But it was a shame to not display them.'

Kate continued to show him other interesting things that visitors might just skip past if they hurried through — love knots made of plaited corn, tiny Elizabethan embroidery scissors, pearl-buttoned gloves, and a miniature of someone alleged to be Catherine Howard, Henry VIII's fifth wife.

‘This has never been verified, of course.' Kate ran her fingers lovingly over the glass-topped display. ‘But as she was from Norfolk, and had lots of lovers, you never know.'

Theo suddenly laughed. ‘She was a Kate too, in some quarters!'

‘She was. And in fact, we actually have the same name — but it's spelled differently. I'm Kathryn Howard, K-a-t-h-r-y-n. My brother's Tom. Thomas. Our parents have a warped sense of humour!'

‘Wonderful! What's this?' Theo pointed to something that looked like an instrument of torture. ‘It's like a pair of scissors with something weird on the end!'

Kate laughed. ‘Eyelash curlers. They look painful, don't they? Just wait until we get to the medical equipment. Oh, and the dental things.' She grinned. ‘One of the cottages further through is like a kitchen, you might remember? There's strange stuff in there too — hand whisks and butter pats and the most fantastic sugar scissors for snipping off bits of sugar from a proper sugar cone. Makes you glad to have modern conveniences.'

Theo followed her through the museum, through the kitchen and the promised medical equipment, fascinated by the things she was telling him. It was much better than his whizz round the first time he'd been here. He had missed so much. ‘So what's your favourite thing in here?' he asked as they stood in the room that led into the school room, and beyond that into the cosy-looking cottage at the end.

‘Ah, you asked me in exactly the right cottage. These.' Kate pointed to a pair of ice-skates; rather battered looking and clearly repaired, residing next to a display of invitations and calling cards Theo could see were from the Hall.

He pointed at the blades. ‘That one's been sort of soldered together. Can you see?'

‘Do you think so?' Her voice was slightly strangled, and Theo looked at her quickly. She was staring at the skates, and had gone white. ‘I thought they had. I'm just surprised you—'

‘You'd never know unless you worked with metal all day,' he replied, casting an expert glance over them. ‘I think if they were being worn at the time, it might have caused someone a bit of agony, if they tumbled over and managed to smash them up that well.'

Kate nodded, still staring at the skates; then she surprised him again. ‘Would you like to hold them? I always think you get a better idea of an object if you handle it.'

‘Could I?' He cast another glance at the craftsmanship and nodded. ‘If you wouldn't mind.'

‘Certainly.' She looked up and pointed through the cottages to the cosy one at the end. ‘Do you want to go in there and wait while I get them out of the cabinet? I need a key.' She smiled. ‘Make yourself at home. It's the Blacksmith's cottage, the one I mentioned from the Earl's letter; but his furnace still needs some attention. It's just rubble outside the cottages at the minute. You might remember it as a big pile of stones from when you were here before.'

Theo meandered through the school room, and smiled at the board and the tiny ink wells. He paused by the long, low row of wooden desks, and bent to a slate. Unable to resist, he picked up the stubby pencil lying beside it and scratched a meaningless squiggle onto the black surface, joining numerous other squiggles and carefully written children's names. Then he headed into the end cottage.

Almost immediately, a feeling rushed over him that was at once warm and familiar and welcoming. The last time he had been here, it had just felt like another museum room; but then, he reasoned, he hadn't known Kate and she seemed to be making all the difference.

He smiled around at the room, and imagined it how it must have been, all those years ago. He walked over to the window and peered out at the grass and the river beyond, then moved over to the little wooden back door. He tried the handle and it turned easily, so he pushed the door open and stared out at the late Suffolk afternoon.

It was beautiful out there. He looked to the right, expecting to see Kate's little walled garden further along, but the grass just ran up to the edge of the stone cottages. He shrugged. Her garden must be on the corner or hidden by the overgrown shrubs he saw in clusters on the grassland.

From the left, he heard a tap, tap, tapping sound and the gentle hiss of bellows. Then a whoosh , as a flame burst into life, heralded by the whinny of a nearby horse. Excellent. She'd managed to go some way to restoring the old furnace building at least; and she must have one of those recordings in the building to add some atmosphere. He closed the door and stepped back inside the room, smiling.

He looked down, sure he'd caught something as he moved. He expected to see a footstool or something, but there was nothing obvious, just the sound of a dog sneezing somewhere behind him. He turned, surprised, wondering if one had snuck in when the door was open. He scanned the room; nothing was out of place and the white-washed walls gleamed back at him, softly reflecting the flames in the grate. He looked up at the door he'd come through, and stared, thrown for a minute. The wall was smooth, and there was no doorway to be seen. And the fire? Had that been burning when he came in? He hadn't noticed. If she was closing up, it would need damping down—

He spun around, to see a cold, empty grate, and turned again to the connecting door. Kate was just coming through it, smiling apologetically. ‘Sorry,' she said. ‘It took me a few minutes to find the keys. Jenna had put them back on the wrong hook. Here they are. Our ice-skates.' She held them up for his inspection.

Theo shook his head, blinking to clear the image of the fire and the blank wall that had invaded his mind. This place was certainly very atmospheric.

‘Hey. Thanks.' He smiled, dismissing the images as his imagination working overtime. ‘I love what you've done with the furnace so far. I was just looking outside and heard the recording.'

‘What recording?' Kate frowned. ‘I haven't done anything with the furnace. It's still a pile of rubble.' She pushed her hair out of her face, nervously, he thought. ‘There's nothing there. Although this is the old blacksmith's cottage, like I said. He's got a horseshoe on the door, which I like to think he made himself.'

‘But I swear I heard the noises of someone working there.' Theo was confused and looked around him. The atmosphere had shifted a little and it no longer felt the same as it had a few minutes ago. ‘Look — I'll show you.' He headed over to the door and took hold of the handle. He turned it, and was met with resistance. ‘Strange. It was fine before,' he murmured, and tried to turn it again. Still nothing.

He looked at Kate, perplexed. ‘I'm so sorry. I think I must have locked it.'

Kate was staring at him, a little oddly. She shook her head. ‘No. It's been locked for ages. We don't keep it open in case people try to sneak in the back way — without paying, you know?'

‘Without paying,' he echoed. ‘Right. Fine.' He let go of the door handle and nodded over to the fireplace. ‘And do you light that up regularly?'

Kate shook her head without taking her eyes off him. ‘No.' She sat down, and looked up at him, her face pale and her eyes wide. ‘It's never lit.'

‘Oh. Okay.' He wrapped his arms around his body and stared around the room that felt so familiar and so homely. And so right with Kate sitting there.

He realised she was holding the skates up to him. ‘Do you want to have a look at these then?'

Theo nodded and took them from her.

There was a flash, like some sort of scene exploded into his mind; as if the gesture had thrown him back one hundred years or more ago and the cottage was lived in and warm and his . . .

He ran his finger down the blades and held them up to the light, squinting a little to see if the repair was noticeable. ‘I think these should be fair to use again,' he told her. ‘I didn't do too badly, if I may say so. I'll warrant that only someone in my line of trade could tell.'

She was sitting in the room, the blanket covering her legs and a mongrel dog lying heavily against her. ‘I don't think I'll be using them for some time.' She looked miserable and white and sickly, and her red hair lacked its usual lustre.

He knelt down beside her and took her hand in his. ‘You will be. You'll be dancing soon. I promise you.'

‘Do you think I can be fixed as easily as those? It hurts. It hurts so much! It'll never be better! I'll be stuck like this forever!'

He laughed, loving her for her dramatic despair. ‘Bones heal. Breaks mend. Skates — can be repaired. Next winter, I promise, you'll be on that ice and you won't fall down again.'

‘Will I not?'

‘No.' He lifted her hand to his face and laid it gently against his cheek. ‘Because I'll be there to catch you. I promise.'

Theo gasped, and suddenly he was back in the little museum cottage, holding the skates, with Kate looking up at him.

* * *

‘Are you all right?' Kate got to her feet and touched his arm. ‘Shall I take these away?' She removed the skates and put them behind her back. He looked completely stunned and was staring down at her as if he'd never seen her before in his life. ‘Theo?' She started to panic — maybe he'd had an apoplexy or something? Maybe he needed a doctor? He really seemed to have been somewhere else for a moment. The idea curled into her mind — maybe he had been somewhere else.

‘Kate?' He blinked and turned slightly, and faced the chair she'd been sitting in. His eyes swept the area, as if he was looking for something. ‘Yeah.' He scratched his head and looked around. ‘Was there a dog in here by any chance?'

Kate shook her head. ‘A dog used to live here, I think. A mongrel sort of thing. It had a bit of boxer in it. He was called Hector.'

‘Hector.'

‘Yes. Are you sure you're okay?' She tried a reassuring smile. He looked like he needed one of those. ‘This cottage has a bit of a — reputation. A bit like the Hall.' She leaned against the mantelpiece. ‘In my opinion, these buildings know who they like and they make it pretty well-known.' She laughed, self-consciously. ‘I wonder if the cottage knows you?'

‘It certainly seemed to know me.' Theo looked around and his gaze settled on a point behind her. The doorway.

‘Hmm. Did it disappear? The door?'

Theo snapped his head back to her. ‘You could say that. And with the furnace and things. Well now.' He shivered.

‘Perhaps you're just a little more sensitive to things about — blacksmiths — working in your industry.' Kate forced a smile. Pointless unloading the whole Cat Tredegar thing on him. She might never see him again; and that sort of information might disrupt both of their lives in unthinkable ways.

Then she realised he was looking at her strangely, and his eyes scanned her from the top of her head down to her legs and his gaze hovered around her ankles. She felt herself blush, not privy to whatever he'd experienced so briefly there in the cottage. But she wondered — a tiny, treacherous, hopeful part of her wondered — whether she, or Cat, had been part of it.

His eyes fixed on hers again. She noticed how dark and dangerous they were and the atmosphere seemed to fizz and crackle around them as she clutched the skates tightly behind her. There was a pull towards him that she was finding increasingly difficult to resist; and by the way his eyes flared as they met hers, she suspected he felt it too.

‘I think I should probably leave,' he said in a low voice. He cleared his throat and stepped backwards, breaking the connection.

‘Should you?' she asked. Treacherous indeed. Her heart had started to pound at a million miles an hour.

‘I think it's best.'

‘Perhaps.'

Because what about Chris ? She dragged her gaze away from Theo and stared at her feet instead. It was wrong that she should feel so unsettled, just because she was putting too much stock into the past, or into whatever daydreams she was coming up with that were pretending to be the past.

‘I need to tell you though, that I don't want to go. But I think we both know why I should .' Theo's voice was soft, and interrupted her thoughts. It made her stomach somersault, imagining what that voice might sound like whispering love to her; perhaps reciting love poetry, unsure of the words but meaning every one of them, on a sunny afternoon while she dabbled her toes in the cool water of the River Hartsford . . .

Kate looked at Theo quickly. His eyes were perfect and honest. He wasn't flirting or teasing; he was being completely truthful.

She thought about denying how she felt about the situation, but she couldn't.

She looked away, back at the empty fireplace and sighed. ‘I do know.' She put the skates on the mantelpiece and touched them gently. ‘Were they definitely repaired then?'

‘Yes. You can see how the blade was broken in half. It took some skill to do it, but he did a good job.'

‘He? The blacksmith?' She smiled, sadly. ‘Not everything that's broken can be repaired so easily, though, can it?'

‘No.'

There was a brief silence.

‘I really should go. The longer I stand here, the more difficult it is to remember I just came in for a guided tour. I didn't expect this. Although,' he half-smiled, ‘I'd be lying if I said I didn't hope for it.'

Kate felt wretched. This time she nodded. ‘I understand. I feel the same. I'll let you out the front door. The one with the horseshoe on.'