Page 49 of One Last Gift

“Yes, sadly,” Cassie said. She’d only been able to get the one night away from London because of work. She hadn’t wanted to piss Robert off by asking for an extra day off, but on top of that, there was an events exchange weekend coming up in a few months, and she really wanted Robert to send her. It was something some of the hotels did, if they were in the program together, and it meant you could go and manage an event at a different hotel, try to see what they were doing differently that you could take back to your own company, and what you could improve from your own experience. She’d never done it before, and this year it was at this gorgeous manor house in Sussex, and she was hoping that Robert would let her do it.

“It’s a shame, it’s a shame. But here, I’ll show you round. Oh, and I’m Tiff, by the way, but you probably know that.” Tiff gave no mention of Tom visiting as she started the tour of the house, but then, Cassie had a feeling she already knew who the next clue was coming from.

“This is amazing,” Cassie told Tiff honestly as she finished the tour. There were eleven bedrooms, she’d learned; a billiard room upstairs that was “out of action” at the moment due to a leak in the en-suite toilet but which would be brilliant when up and running; a grand dining room, a living room where you could curl up next to the fire, with the old Victorian kitchen still intact at the back of the house, next to a separate, more demure-looking staircase compared to the one at the front of the house, which presumably the servants would have used. The rundown feel of the house was impossible to ignore, with paint flicking off the walls in places, and cobwebs hanging high in corners in some of the rooms, along with carpets that were tearing off the floor at the back of the house. But despite all that, Cassie loved it. Other than the fact that it was majestic, the house seemed to have a story to tell—she felt it almost waiting expectantly for them as they opened each door, and she couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit sad for the old rooms that had been neglected, their doors shut off from the rest of the house, like they were just waiting to shine again.

“Do you do any events here?” Cassie asked, as Tiff led them back into the entrance hall, where two armchairs sat by the window around a coffee table in the corner. Because events would be amazing here, Cassie couldn’t help thinking. A majestic Victorian house in the countryside, not too remote but rural enough that you’d have the feeling that you could escape from reality. It would be great for intimate weddings, birthdays, but also longer things too—retreats would be brilliant here, and there was plenty of space to write or do yoga, or whatever your thing was.

“Oh no, I don’t have the energy for that anymore,” Tiff said. “I’m actually trying to sell the place at the moment.”

“Sell it?” Cassie asked.

“Yes. It’s lovely, but too much for me now—and I’ve met someone in Portugal, so I’m going to go and live there, as soon as I’m shot of this place.” She gave Cassie a look that she couldn’t quite interpret. “Anyway. You both sit down—can I get you a little welcome tipple?”

“That would be lovely,” Linda said, sitting herself down on the red armchair and leaving the green for Cassie. “I run a pub, and I’m hardly ever the one being waited on. How about a glass of red wine?”

Tiff pursed her bright red lips. “I don’t have any red in at the moment, I’m afraid—I’m running stocks down while I wait to sell up. How about a glass of port? Or sherry?”

“Have you had much interest in the house?” Cassie couldn’t help asking.

“Not yet,” Tiff said breezily. “It’s a big project to take on, I suppose. There was one fellow who was interested a while back, but he said he was waiting for something, so we’ll see.” It was a big project, Cassie thought, but what a place. “I’ll get you both a sherry, shall I?” And leaving them with no choice, Tiff disappeared.

Cassie and Linda grinned at each other as they watched her go. “Well,” Linda said. “She’s certainly…something.”

“I like her,” Cassie said decisively. She was sure Tom would have liked her too, and she wondered if he had ever met her—if that’s why he’d decided to send her here.

“Now that we’re here,” Linda said, “I think it’s OK to give you this.” She slid an envelope out of her purse. “I know you’ve been wondering about it,” she added softly.

Cassie felt that shock, the way she always did with the envelopes, at the sight of Tom’s handwriting. Number Four. One more to go after this, if Tom was following the same pattern as previous years—which meant she was over halfway through. What would she find when she got to the end?

“Your parents used to come on holiday to Wales, you know,” Linda said.

Cassie looked up at her. “Really?”

Linda nodded. “They took you and Tom one year. I think you might have been too little to remember, but your mum told me all about it when they got back. They attempted to climb Snowdon—your mum’s idea, but it was a disaster with you and Tom, apparently.”

Cassie smiled. Of course her mum would have tried to climb a mountain with two toddlers. Always searching for the next adventure, like Tom.

“She loved it here, though, your mum. Was always talking about how she and your dad would move to Wales one day. That was the plan, anyway, but they needed to be somewhere on the commuter belt for a bit longer, and Wales was just that bit far out.” And they never got the chance, Cassie thought sadly. Just like Tom, now, would never get the chance to do all the things he’d planned to do.

Tiff came back into the room carrying two sherries in mismatched glasses. She popped them down on the coffee table between them. “Now, I think I’ve got a bit of shortcake to go with that somewhere, bear with.”

As she disappeared for the second time, Cassie opened the envelope.

All I can think of when I think of Wales, Chipmunk, is that holiday we went on, and you stamping your little foot and refusing to come in out of the rain, because I’d annoyed you about something, and Sam had to go out and coax you back inside. Do you remember?

She did remember, now that he’d mentioned it. It was on that same holiday she’d been thinking about earlier. Claire had rented a tiny holiday cottage, and Tom and Sam ended up sharing a room, alternating who slept on the floor, because it had only been booked for the three of them. Cassie had been upset, because it was the first time she hadn’t been sharing a room with Tom on holiday. She’d stormed out of the house—it had felt like a big deal to her and it should have been obvious why she was upset, but clearly she’d not articulated it very well, because Tom didn’t get it and thought she was being silly. They’d had a rare sibling fight, ending with him telling her, “Go away, Cassie, you’re so annoying.”

“Fine, I will,” she said dramatically, intending to go far and leave them all worrying about her—that would teach her stupid brother. So she had gone away, but she hadn’t been brave enough to go farther than the garden, because she didn’t want to get lost. So she’d stood out there, folding her arms, refusing to get in out of the rain until Tom apologized.

Claire had called from the house. “Cassie! Don’t be silly, you’ll get cold. Come inside now, hmm?”

“No.”

“Fine. You stay there then.” Claire knew, perhaps, that she only had a few more minutes’ determination left in her.

Sam had come out, then. She’d actually forgotten that. “Come on, Cass. Tom didn’t mean it.”

“He did. He did mean it. He wants me to go away so it can be just the two of you.” And she was jealous, and that was the worst part—she didn’t want to share her brother on holiday. It was fine when they were playing at home with Hazel and Sam or whatever, but this was supposed to be her time with him.