Autumn Leaves at Mill Grange, Jenny Kane [big ebook reader .TXT] 📗

in them, like the renovation of the greenhouse or the cultivation of a garden, it’s a sound one.’

‘I know it won’t suit everyone, but I’ve been very clear in the advertisements we’ve put out about what we’re offering. Anyone who requires specific cognitive therapy needs to call in advance to see if we can help them or not. I’m not claiming to have the answers to the problems our guests have, but I’ll attempt to show them a way of living to cope with getting up every day.’

Bert beamed. ‘Which is why you have my respect. Now, you mentioned a favour.’

‘Yes.’ Sam shifted uncomfortably. ‘Umm.’

‘Come on, out with it.’

‘I need to get inside the house, Bert.’ He took a gulp of his drink, wiping his hand over his lips before going on. ‘Our trainee guests come in three days. They are friends; they know they’re coming as guinea pigs, and they are all aware of my situation. However, in six weeks’ time, the first proper guests are booked in. I was sure I’d be walking around Mill Grange by then, even if only for meals and to go to bed, but…’

‘But you’ve been so busy making the place work for other people, you’ve forgotten about yourself.’

Sam fiddled a beer mat through his fingers. ‘There’s another issue too. My parents have invited Tina and me to their place. They want to meet her.’

‘Naturally. They’ll love her.’

‘My mother will; my father doesn’t know the meaning of the word.’ Sam shook his head. ‘Anyway, I want to be able to go inside their house. It’s the only way Father will curb his “disappointed in my son” comments. We are somewhat estranged.’

‘Is that so?’ Bert frowned. ‘And you’d like me to help you learn to be able to stay inside for as long as it takes to have a meal at their home?’

‘Do you think it’s even possible?’ Sam tugged at his ponytail, reminding Bert of Tina playing with her plaits when she was anxious.

‘Yes, it is possible. I’m living proof of that. But it won’t be a quick fix.’

Sam smiled. Bert had never told him the details of his own battle with claustrophobia, but he knew it had been serious in his post-National-Service years. ‘I’m not expecting miracles.’

Thinking for a second, Bert asked, ‘Your parents’ home, is it big or small? I mean, do you need to deal with a modern house with relatively low ceilings, or are we talking a Victorian semi with high ceilings, or something else entirely?’

Sam put down his pint. ‘Well, you know the ceilings at Mill Grange – think on that scale, and then add a few more rooms.’

Bert put his glass down with rather more of a thud than he’d intended. ‘Your folks live in a mansion?’

‘Uh-huh.’

The old man chuckled again as he regarded his friend. ‘And there I was thinking Mill Grange was an upgrade for you, when in fact it’s downsizing!’

‘Well, it’s upsizing from a tent, but I take the point.’

‘Did they come into money then? Lottery or something?’

‘Not exactly.’ Hoping to avoid talk about his family background, Sam steered them back to the matter in hand. ‘So, umm, what do you think might be a good starting point?’

‘Logically, it would be for you to walk from the downstairs bathroom to the kitchen.’ Bert held Sam’s gaze for a second, accepting the change of topic without question. ‘I think it would be a good starting point because you are used to the first part of the route, and can then get directly out to the garden from the kitchen. You’d be going from outside to outside, while tackling just the one short corridor that exists between exits.’

Ignoring the perspiration that had broken out on his palms, Sam said, ‘I tried to walk into the kitchen from outside a couple of days ago. My foot hit the kitchen floor and I got no further. It was as if I’d hit a wall.’

‘I suspect that’s because it’s not a doorway you’ve tried to cross before, unlike the back door.’ Bert paused before asking, ‘Are you still going to professional therapy?’

‘No.’ Sam felt a hit of guilt. ‘Maybe I should go back for Tina’s sake, but it wasn’t helping. It did in the beginning; it worked wonders, but—’

‘But you reached the end of the line with it, hence adopting your nomadic outdoor lifestyle.’

‘Which was enough until—’

‘You met Tina and fell in love with both her and Mill Grange.’

‘Yes.’ Sam swallowed. ‘I’d like to do this for her as much as for me. She’s been good to me, and well, we’ve fallen out a bit.’

‘Fallen out, you say. I trust you have apologised.’

‘It wasn’t my fault.’

Bert’s laugh echoed around the crowded pub. ‘Rule one, young man. It’s always our fault.’

Sam lifted his pint. ‘I’m not very good at sharing.’

‘Something else to learn then.’ Bert stared at the table for a while, before holding his friend’s gaze. ‘I will help you with your phobia. I’ll be at the house tomorrow morning at ten o’clock. I’ll see you outside the back door. Okay?’

Sam nodded nervously.

‘I can’t promise I’ll succeed any more than your professional helpers have, but I will help you take small steps each day. Overall, however, I’ll be trying to teach you what Mabel taught me years ago.’

‘And what did she teach you?’

‘That the only person we can ever really help is ourselves.’

‘Wise woman your Mabel.’

‘Yes.’ Bert rubbed at his chin. ‘Your parents, Sam, do you mind if I ask who they are?’

‘Lord and Lady Malvern of Worcester.’

‘Ah.’ Bert winked. ‘I won’t tell Mabel.’

‘I’d appreciate that.’

‘Bless her, she’d be wanting to curtsey every time she saw you.’ Bert chuckled. ‘Her knees ain’t what they were. She might get stuck mid dip!’

September 5th

Acting on advice from Thea, Tina picked up the letter that had arrived from Lady Malvern and put it with today’s mail. Then, with more nerves than she’d ever felt in Sam’s presence, she headed towards his tent.

The canvas triangle looked lost beneath the bank of trees it