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

as the boy tried to breathe quietly, such was his fear of making a sound and stopping the filming.

As Tom spoke into the camera, Dylan grabbed Helen’s hand, his little palm squeezing hers in excitement. He turned to her, as if to ask if it was okay. His blue eyes were every bit as bright as Tom’s green ones, and something deep inside Helen fell in love. Gently wrapping an arm around the boy, Helen gave him a silent nod as they watched the newest member of the Mill Grange staff talk into the camera.

*

Mabel was sitting at the kitchen table with lists and recipe books spread out before her. They ought to have all the meals planned for next week by now, but with the arrival of the television crew, everything had gone on hold. Suddenly, the guests were less than forty-eight hours away and Mabel felt uncharacteristically out of control.

Scribbling down a rough plan of lunches, her pen paused as she wondered what ingredients she should order in, for which recipe, for the guests’ first night. Having written down lasagne, and then crossing it out as not suitable as the first meal in a Victorian house, she wondered where Tina had got to.

She was just considering the benefits of a beef casserole instead, when she became conscious of someone watching her.

‘Sam?’

Her employer was leaning on the doorframe, his face pale, his legs quaking. Mabel had a feeling that if he wasn’t holding on to the side of the house, he’d fall over. ‘Whatever is it?’

Shouting down the main corridor for Bert to come out of the living room right now, Mabel moved to his side. ‘Are you with me, Sam?’

Bert was by his wife’s side in seconds. ‘Sam, my boy?’

‘Got to go inside.’ Coming back to himself, the initial shock of what Shaun had told him passing, Sam felt ashamed. He’d run from his friend as he’d explained what was going to happen, and how he had to do the interview if he wanted the show to go ahead.

‘Can you explain?’ Manoeuvring Sam to the nearest garden bench, Bert sat next to him, as Mabel hurried off to make sweet tea.

‘The filming by the Christmas tree. It’s for me and Shaun.’

‘Ah.’ Bert said nothing else, patiently waiting for Sam to go on.

‘Phil wants me to sit inside with Shaun and talk about what we’re trying to do here. You’ve seen how long it takes to just do one short voiceover; can you imagine how long I’d have to sit in that armchair? I haven’t managed to cross the kitchen yet. I’ve run to the table and back for my lunch, thanks to you and Mabel. But even that leaves me breathless for a few seconds.’

‘Does Phil know you have claustrophobia?’

‘Apparently he’d assumed it was mild. He said he couldn’t imagine anyone running an enterprise like this and not being able to go inside its headquarters. Shaun got the impression Phil would ditch the whole thing if I didn’t do the interview.’

‘I see.’ Bert acknowledged his wife as she brought out a mug of tea, slotting it into Sam’s hands.

Amazed that his quivering hands didn’t slop the tea, Sam’s mouth felt dehydrated and his head thudded. ‘Any ideas? I’ll take any advice here, Bert.’

‘I don’t have any, my boy.’ Bert looked up in time to see Shaun heading in their direction. A plainly worried Tina was by his side. ‘If you want this show to happen, then you’ll need to try to go in there; but I’m not telling you anything you don’t know already.’

‘And if I do get there and manage to sit by the tree, Bert, what if I can’t speak or can’t stop shaking or…’

Shaun and Tina were overtaken by the sound of small running feet as Dylan hared across the garden and launched himself at Bert.

‘Dad was brilliant.’ He crawled onto the bench next to his new friend, and then with the trusting innocence of a boy who’d spent his short life moving from home to home, forever meeting new people, he looked up at Sam. ‘Hello, I’m Dylan.’

‘Hello.’ Sam couldn’t do anything other than grin back at the boy, who was apparently having the best day of his life.

‘Dad said you’re going on telly too. Are you going to sit by my tree?’

‘They tell me that’s the plan.’ Sam licked his lips nervously. ‘I saw it through the window. You did an excellent job.’

‘Ta.’ Dylan beamed. ‘Can I come and watch you be on telly like I did Dad? It’s fun. I’ll be ever so quiet. Promise.’ He frowned before adding, ‘I think I’d better take off my boots. Mum doesn’t like it when I take mud in the house.’

‘Quite right.’ Sam looked helplessly at Shaun, who shrugged.

Squirming up onto his knees, so his mouth was level with Sam’s ear, Dylan whispered, ‘Thea said you might need a hug before you go inside.’

Without waiting for a response, Dylan threw his arms around Sam. As the anorak-padded arms held him close, Sam’s eyes found Tina. Her pale face told him she was scared stiff on his behalf, but as her gaze flicked to Dylan, he saw she feared him letting down the boy almost as much as he did.

How has this happened? Dylan’s only been here half a day. I only clapped eyes on him two minutes ago.

‘Can I come in with you, Sam? Can I?’

‘Of course you can. Maybe you could even help me.’

‘Help you?’ The boy’s eyes shone.

‘I’m going to tell you a big secret.’ Sam took a slow breath, and with one eye on Tina, whispered into the boy’s ear. ‘I’m a bit nervous about going on the television. Will you hold my hand as we go inside?’

Dylan promptly jumped off the bench and held out a hand, which Sam took.

‘If you feel me shaking, will you hold it tighter?’

‘I shake when I’m nervous. My teacher, Mrs Harley, she says that’s normal and only silly people pretend they’re never scared.’

Sam swallowed.