Chapter Twenty

Theo fiddled with his watch strap, wondering whether it was worth heading into the village. The evening stretched ahead of him and much as he loved his solitude and the fact he could please himself out here, he knew there was more Hartsford could offer, if he only sought it out.

He thought about the museum and the way Kate's garden backed onto the fields by the river. He remembered the cheese on toast they'd shared and half-smiled. He didn't think he'd get much further than friendship with her at the moment. Not while things were happening with Lori and Poppy. It was obvious that Kate didn't want to complicate matters, and he respected that—

‘Hello.'

He turned his head so quickly, he almost cricked his neck. Reaching up to rub it, he squinted into the late afternoon sun and saw her standing there, the rays lighting up her hair like a halo of fire. She was wearing denim shorts, a black top and a casual, zip-up jacket.

‘Kate! What are you doing here?'

‘Looking for you. I walked up from the village. It's a nice night and I had to bring this. I was told to do it.' She was almost defensive as she held up a wicker basket topped with a red and white checked cloth. ‘Delilah said.'

‘Delilah? From the café?'

‘Yes. She said she'd seen us and we looked like we needed feeding.'

Theo raised his eyebrows.

‘I know,' said Kate. ‘Once Hartsford has you on its radar, that's it. Your business is everyone's business and they do like to look after their own. Delilah sent this and she said I had to share it with you. So I brought it all up here. I can just leave you half of it and head back, if it feels . . . awkward. Don't feel obliged.'

‘Obliged? For what?'

‘To actually physically share it.' She waved the basket in a large arc around her. ‘Like here. We don't have to sit down and eat it together, that's what I'm trying to say. Not if you don't want to. Not if you've got . . . reason . . . not to.'

Theo stood up and took the basket from Kate.

He nodded to the entrance of the tent. ‘I have no reason good enough at the minute. I don't mind sitting down and sharing. You park yourself there and I'll get some mugs for whatever we've got in the flask.'

Kate looked a little bit thrown. She also looked as if she was casting around for some sort of excuse as to why she couldn't stay — as if she wasn't sure it was okay for her to be there.

Theo shook his head and placed his hand on her shoulder. ‘Sit.' He gently tried to push her down. ‘Please. If you don't stay, I'll be forced to spend the evening in the wine bar being entertained by the divine Jenna.'

That comment seemed to do more than any physical force could have done. Kate suddenly laughed and sat right down.

She crossed her legs and sat upright. ‘I think it's tea in the flask.'

‘That's fine for now. I can always boil the kettle for more later, or find a couple of bottles of beer in my ice-box.'

Kate didn't object to the "later" statement. She nodded and shuffled along so he could sit next to her and put the basket between them.

‘We can still enjoy each other's company,' he said with a smile. ‘Forget about the world for a few hours. I'd like to do that with you.'

‘I know. I'd like to do that too.' She changed position and pulled her knees up, hugging them to her. She watched him lift the cloth and smiled as he exclaimed over the contents of the basket. They were pretty impressive and Theo didn't realise how hungry he was until he smelled the spicy fruitiness of that cake.

‘I don't see why we shouldn't share the picnic,' Kate said while Theo unloaded the scones. She pushed some droopy red curls out of her face. ‘And Delilah made this for us both.'

‘I hope you weren't considering not inviting me to your picnic.' Theo pretended to be affronted. ‘We're in full view of the cows anyway; so what mischief could we possibly get up to?'

Kate laughed. ‘Cows are remarkably stupid. But my ducks — they are far more astute.'

‘I wouldn't dare offend your ducks.'

She laughed again and Theo relaxed. This was going to be a very pleasant evening.

* * *

It was quite nice, sharing the picnic with Theo. Well, more than nice, to be honest — it was lovely. That awkward moment over the strawberry ice-cream and the feelings that had risen up out of her subconscious when he'd lifted her up had melted away and the constriction in Kate's chest eased a little.

Plus, the conversation was easy and there were no awkward pauses. She found out more about where he lived, what his job entailed, what his clients were like . . . all sorts of interesting things. He didn't, she noticed, talk about Poppy at all. Perhaps he was doing that deliberately — bottling it all up, because if he talked about her and it turned out she wasn't his, it would make it more difficult and more real for him to let her go.

He discovered, in his turn, about Kate's unconventional upbringing, her brother and his quirks and possibly more about Hartsford Folk Museum than he probably, she acknowledged, wanted to know. The food helped it all flow nicely too and she was right about the flask. It contained milky tea and there was just something about milky tea from a flask in the outdoors that made it taste different and special. It was the best tea she'd had in ages.

‘Are you ready for the onslaught again tomorrow?' Theo asked her. ‘You've got plenty of ice-cream? That sky tells me it's going to be a hot day again.' He nodded across to the west, where the sun was just dropping behind the horizon in a big, fiery ball and the sky was streaked with red, as if reminding people it would be back tomorrow, blazing down on them again.

‘I have plenty,' Kate responded, gazing at the sunset. ‘And plenty of clotted cream. Cassie insisted.'

Theo laughed. He leaned forward and pulled the basket towards them, dipping into Kate's line of vision. She tore her eyes away from the sunset and studied him instead. His face was shadowed by the sun, the contours around his cheeks and jaw strong and defined. She couldn't stop staring at him. They'd done this before, she knew they had. They'd sat under the setting sun and talked — and not just the time they had eaten cheese on toast in her garden. These fields, these woods — everything had been here, much as they were now, for centuries. It was, Kate decided, too easy to mistake the comfort of the past for the uncertainty of the present.

She dragged her gaze away from Theo and stared at her knees instead. It was, she realised now, so very dangerous, sitting here with Theo outside his tent. She recalled that veiled suggestion earlier about not encouraging Hughie anywhere. If this evening continued as it had done, Kate wouldn't be responsible for her actions and Theo wouldn't have to encourage her to do anything—

‘I'd better go,' she said, too sharply. ‘It's getting late and I need to prepare for tomorrow.' She dragged her fingers through her hair again. The curls had dropped quite a lot now, and it was with a vague sense of annoyance that she realised she needed to wash and set it all again in the bendy rollers.

‘Why are we always saying that to one another?' he asked softly. ‘Are we really so terrified about what might happen?'

‘Yes.' Her answer was simple and truthful. She turned to face him. ‘I'm absolutely terrified that I fall into this with you so completely that I can never climb out. It's the way it is and the way it has to stay for now.'

He reached over and touched her curls, brought his fingertips down to her lips and touched them briefly. His eyes flickered with something like desire and regret all mixed together. ‘I could easily fall into things with you.'

‘And that's why it's dangerous and why I need to go. It's bad enough parting as — friends. If I let myself slip too far into whatever we feel for each other, I couldn't let you go again.'

‘Again?' He looked at her curiously, tucked a curl behind her ear and trailed his finger down her cheek, then dropped his hand.

Kate looked at the ground. Her cheeks burned but something compelled her to tell him.

She took a deep breath. ‘What I said about Hartsford looking after its own — I meant it. I think I belong here. I think I've always belonged here — even before I was here. It sounds crazy, I know, but it's happened to you as well, hasn't it? In the museum cottage? Tell me you didn't feel you belonged there. I bet you can't — because you can't lie to me, can you?'

Theo stared at her and shook his head slowly. ‘No, I don't think I can lie to you. Yes. That was a very weird experience.' He looked away and pushed his hand through his hair. ‘It was almost as if it was my cottage and I lived there and you . . . you were there. But you weren't you. And I wasn't me.' He furrowed his brows. ‘I don't know who I was, but I belonged there and I felt like I belonged with . . . you.' His gaze stole back to her and her cheeks burned even more fiercely, but she found she couldn't look away. ‘It was like you were my other half and we should have made something whole. I've heard about that sort of thing before, but I truly didn't think it happened in real life. It's like I knew you before .'

‘So, if you look at it like that,' she said, ‘we were perhaps last here about one hundred and thirty years ago, give or take a decade or two. And here we are again. And it's no easier for me this time. We couldn't be together because you had to leave, all those years ago, and I don't even know if you came back to me. And I still feel the same way about you now as I did then. But now you've got — other things — to deal with. And I can't be part of it. Not yet.' She shook her head and pulled her knees closer. ‘There's something about closure, I think. I don't have that with the way things used to be, because I don't know what happened then. And I don't know what's going to happen now. It's all out of my control.'

Theo, surprisingly, didn't seem scared or worried at the notion that somewhere in the past their souls had met before. The magic of Hartsford was creeping all around them, wrapping them in a warm, silken embrace, drawing them together, coaxing everything back into order. Kate could almost hear those stars shifting and fizzing as they twinkled into the alignment she so firmly believed in.

‘I said something to you a while ago, and I'm going to say it again. I really do wish I'd met you again three and a half years ago. Before Chris and before Lori and before my life took the direction it did. I wish I could go back and change it all. But if I did that . . .' Theo plucked at a blade of grass. Tugged it out of the ground and flicked it away. ‘Perhaps Poppy wouldn't exist and that's a concept I find hard to deal with.' He sighed. ‘Come on. I'd better walk you back to the village before we do something quite reckless.'

Kate felt wretched. ‘No need to do that. I'll be safe.'

‘Half way then?'

‘Half way.' That wasn't as dangerous. It wasn't near her flat. It wasn't within the temptation zone. It was also getting her away from Theo's tent and the big, squashy airbed she had spotted inside it.

Oh, God.

Kate briefly wondered if the connection they were clearly feeling between them was born more of her ventures into the past than anything contemporary, but somehow she doubted it. They were, and always had been, twin souls.

She still felt the same way about him now as she had done then.

* * *

They walked, almost in silence, half way back to the village.

The lights of Hartsford were just visible in the darkening twilight. Theo had intended to just leave her there, as he had promised to do, mid-way between the campsite and the Folk Museum. He was planning to simply watch her walk towards her home — perhaps wait until he heard her ducks quacking a sleepy "welcome back" before he turned back to the campsite. Sound travelled in the country and he was certain he would have heard them.

But when it came to it, they stood, facing each other, at the side of the country lane, not really knowing what to do.

He knew what he wanted to do. And so he cupped her face in his hands and kissed her in a way that left no doubt about how he felt. If that was all they had at the moment, then he was damn well going to make sure she knew that his entire heart and soul were in that kiss. And it would be forever, even if he was forced to walk away at the end of this weekend and never see her again.

* * *

Sunday

Kate dragged herself out of bed early enough to cut flowers for Cassie's cottage garden display before the ducks had even properly woken up. It had rained overnight as Cassie had predicted, and there were diamond-clear droplets decorating the plants. Once again, thoughts of Theo had interrupted her sleep. It was becoming a habit — frustrating in the extreme, as well, because if he was going to be in her head keeping her awake, then he might as well be in the bed next to her doing it properly.

Kate snipped and snipped, working her way through the fronds of green stuff and the hollyhocks and the delphiniums and the larkspur that filled her little corner of Suffolk, until she had an enormous bouquet of flowers that would not look amiss in the Hall.

One positive thing about getting up and ready so early, though, was that she could take the flowers to the Hall and still have plenty of time to search for Millie's portrait. Cassie had said it was in the dining room — the same place as the bouquet was destined for. It had to be Fate, it simply had to be.

Kate coaxed her hair into the stiff waves the Hall event demanded and painted a slash of red across her lips. If she could just pretend everything was normal, that she hadn't kissed Theo like that last night, she could maybe get through the day. It was going to prove tough, knowing he was working at the Hall as well.

She wrapped the flowers in some old newspaper to keep the stalks together, and stuffed the bouquet into the basket on the back of the bicycle, then filled the ice-box with Neapolitan flavours and clotted cream. She texted Jenna and told her to remember her key as she had to leave early, then pushed the bicycle all the way to the estate.

Kate knew, with a gutting little twist in her stomach, that Theo wouldn't be there to help her with transport today.

* * *

Cassie was in the gift shop when, hidden behind her bouquet, Kate pushed open the door.

‘Kate? Is that you or a walking florist's shop?'

‘It's me. Sorry I'm so early.'

‘No, don't be sorry.' Cassie peered around the bouquet, and smiled. ‘It's nice that you're here. You can slip straight through and put them in the dining room, if you don't mind wandering around an empty house?'

‘It's never bothered me. The Hall's got a lovely feeling. Who doesn't like it?'

‘One or two of the cleaners.' Cassie wrinkled her nose. ‘I always tell them the ghosts don't bother you if you don't bother them.'

‘Some people are a bit sensitive. I'm not.'

‘Really?' Cassie sounded surprised. ‘I always thought you would be someone who picked our ghosts up. You've got such an affinity with the museum and the history — I don't know. I just thought you'd sense things other people couldn't.'

‘I've never seen a ghost.' There was no need to let Cassie know the other part — about "sensing" things — or even being a ghost of sorts herself.

‘Okay.' Cassie shrugged and moved aside. ‘Off you go — see if the Hall whispers any secrets to you when you're on your own in there.' She pushed the connecting door open. ‘The vase is ready. I left it on the little table in the window earlier.'

‘Thanks Cass.' Kate skirted around Cassie and went through the door. It shut, ever so softly behind her and she stood in that familiar servants' passage, listening out for any secrets it might give up, today, in particular.

Kate bit her bottom lip. She could still feel his kiss on it. Damn.

Hugging the flowers, she padded through the stone-flagged corridors and somewhere, just beyond the usual pitch you can hear at, she was aware of murmurings and whisperings; of footsteps hurrying along; of people brushing past her; bells ringing; crockery clattering in the kitchens.

Kate's heart was pounding and she stared straight ahead of her, trying not to look left or right, or to connect with any of the shadows she seemed to be sharing the corridor with this morning. She was relieved to reach the servants' staircase and practically ran up the worn, wooden steps, clutching her bouquet like a talisman. Bursting through the door, she hurried into the state rooms, winding her way through the passages until she reached the dining room.

With a little sob of relief, Kate shouldered open the door and stepped inside. The clock on the mantelpiece began, softly, to strike eight o'clock and her stomach knotted up. She knew what was happening — and she couldn't face it today, she just couldn't. There was a horrible, horrible feeling about this and she didn't want to experience it.

‘But I only came in here to see Millie!' Kate said into the empty room. The Hall didn't listen; or maybe it did.

The modern world melted away, leaving her seated at the dining table, whispering with Millie. The real Millie — not the painted miniature she had come to discover. And there wasn't a thing she could do to stop it all happening.