FB - England, Somerset - The Marbury Estate (Winter 2001)

[Hollywood Heidi]

The Marbury Estate

Located in Somerset, England and taking place in the winter of 2001.

[Kristi Lynne]

Gwen rung the doorbell at the imposing front entrance of the Marbury estate, and then stepped back to stand beside her brother. She tried inhaling to calm her nerves but that only worsened the tightness in her chest when the cold air filled her lungs. Julian was still fidgeting with the piece of fabric round his neck. “Why do I have to wear a tie?” he signed in frustration.

“Because Mum thinks the Marbury’s are royalty,” she replied, shifting the gift bag into the crook of her elbow so that she could sign back. “We must dress to the nines, even when we’re just delivering presents.”

“And why are we giving them presents?” he signed with an indignant look. “I think they have everything they need. And more.”

“But they don’t have a Swarovski crystal letter opener,” she noted. “At least, I hope they don’t. For Mum’s sake.”

The door was finally opened, and she was met by the sight of a face she hadn’t seen in years.

“Nick?” she exhaled.

“Gwen?” The surprised expression on his face eased into a gracious smile when he looked over to see the other visitor on their doorstep. “And Julian.”

“If this is a bad time, we could come back,” Gwen stammered.

“No, no, it’s fine. It’s a fine time,” Nick nodded. “How are you?”

“Fine. And you?”

“Oh, I’m fine.”

Julian signed impatiently “Can we come in?”

“What’d he say?”

“He wants to know if we can come in,” Gwen translated.

“Of course, of course. You must be freezing. Please, come in.” He held the door open for them to pass through.

“Really, Nick, we’ll be happy to come back later,” she offered.

“Nonsense. It’s always a good time for presents.” He ushered them into the foyer, closing the front door and then crossing to call through the dining room. “Mum, Gwen and Julian Havers are here.”

He walked back to them. “She’ll be here in a bit. She’s just berating the new chef. Not satisfied with the pheasant sauce or something.”

The three of them stood there, pleasantly avoiding eye contact, all of the household clocks amplifying the awkward silence with their incessant ticking.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were going to be here,” Gwen finally said, fidgeting with the hat she’d removed once they were inside. “Your mother said you were in Ireland.”

“I was. I mean, I am. But I decided to come back home for the holidays. I suppose you’re on a break from school.”

“Oh, I’m done with school actually. Got a proper job and everything. But yeah, I decided to come back for the holidays as well.”

“Hello, darlings! How are you?” Mrs. Marbury greeted them cheerfully. “Sorry I wasn’t there to meet you at the door. We’ve got this new chef from Liverpool and his sauces are simply ghastly. Apricots, of all things,” she cried in disbelief.

“Mum wanted us to bring this by,” Gwen explained, handing over the gift, “with her regards of course. And she’s very much looking forward to your Christmas party.”

“Oh, that’s very kind of her. And so good to see the two of you again. It’s been ages,” she gushed, trying to gauge the temperature between her son and their female visitor. “Julian, I have some teacakes left over from yesterday that I really must get rid of. Would you be willing to help me?”

Gwen signed Mrs. Marbury’s words to her brother, and his face lit up like a Christmas tree. “Yes, he’d love to, Mrs. Marbury.”

“Follow me to the kitchen then.”

Julian dutifully did so, turning around before he was out of sight to sign “Don’t embarrass yourself again” to his sister. She glared at his retreating back.

“What’d he say?” Nick asked.

“Uh, he said the decorations look wonderful.”

“Right,” he nodded, aware that sign language was the siblings’ way of keeping secrets. “Your brother may be hearing-impaired, but he was never hunger-impaired.”

“True. He’ll be more than happy to help your mother dispose of any excess food.”

“So…do you wanna’ go for a walk?” he offered, nodding toward the door.

She gave him a disbelieving look. “It’s cold out there.”

“Ah, I see. You’ve gone soft. All those American cheeseburgers and French fries. Can’t even make it through a British winter anymore. Honestly, you Colonials,” he sighed disparagingly.

“Fine,” she agreed with a huff, quickly pulling her hat back onto her head. “Lead on, Ginger Spice.”

Gathering up his own coat and scarf, he held the front door open as they proceeded out to the grounds. The manicured lawns and shrubbery covered with a light dusting of snow, and the trees now devoid of leaves reached up to the low grey sky like skeletal fingers. A random bird screech was the only sound other than the pebbles of the path crunching beneath their feet.

The conversational silence was finally broken when they both tried to talk at once. They laughed slightly and looked away from one another.

“No, you go,” Gwen said. “What did you want to say?”

“Oh, I insist. Ladies first.”

“I just…wanted to apologize,” she began, “for everything. I hate the way we left things between us. I hate that one stupid night in Spain caused all these years of awkwardness between us. I mean, you were just trying to help, and I treated you terribly.”

“Agreed,” he nodded.

“I realize that I was making a very big mistake, for very wrong reasons. And it wasn’t arrogance or spite that made you do and say what you did. You did it because you cared about me.”

“Right.”

“And I really…I’ve really missed you,” she said, stopping as she turned to face him. “Helena’s busy with law school, Jules is there for me as much as he can be, but it’s just not the same. All the good things, and all the bad things, that have happened in the past few years—I so wanted to talk to you about them, because you’d share in my joy or laugh at my pain or help me put things in perspective. But you weren’t there. I even did that stupid dialing your number up to the last digit, but then I’d hang up because…I dunno, because I was afraid maybe,” she shrugged, crossing her arms and rubbing them against the cold.

“I really want us to be friends again, Nick. So many people just come and go out of my life, but I need you to stay,” she admitted. “You’re my ‘snarky, articulate, condescending with occasional moments of compassion’ anchor. And I’ll do whatever it takes for you to trust me again. Please? Can’t we go back to the way things were? Or at least a slightly more functional version of the way things were?”

He stayed quiet, looking off into the distance.

“Nick, please…just say something,” she begged.

“Sorry, it’s just that…you apologizing is such a rare event. I wanted to bask in the glow of it for a while,” he replied.

“Ugh, you are such a wanker,” she groaned, punching him in the arm.

“Ow. Bloody hell, if you’re gonna’ be abusive, I’ll have to reconsider.”

She looked up at him hopefully. “So you’ll take me back then?”

“Of course. You’re much more entertaining than Casualty.”

“Well, I was hoping for a bit of reciprocation. That you missed me as well, that your life was terribly dull and devoid of any merriment in my absence, that you’re so grateful for this second chance…”

“Exactly. Couldn’t have said it better myself, which is why I’ll let you do so,” he grinned.

They continued to walk, the tension and regret fading as they attempted to reconnect. Finally they came to a cluster of trees which seemed eerily familiar.

“Is this the tree?” Gwen asked, reminded of how they’d met all those years ago.

“Ah, no,” Nick answered. “Actually that one got struck by lightning last summer.”

“Well, that’s…not symbolic at all.”

“It’s just a tree, Gwen.”

“Right, yeah.” She stuffed her hands into her coat pockets and rocked back and forth on her heels. “I was sorry to hear about Samantha,” she offered.

A frown crossed his face. “Yes, well, turns out we wanted different things.”

“But you were really in love with her.”

“And she really didn’t want to be married to me,” Nick replied. “It’s just who she is, and I couldn’t change that. You’d think I would’ve learned after all those years of dealing with you.”

“Oi! I am completely lovely and adorable. Anyway, it’s not all bad news. You might not have to deal with me for much longer,” she added with a cryptic smile.

“Stop it. Found yourself a bloke then?” he surmised. “Smart, strong, snappy dresser, a man of passion and intrigue?”

“Exactly. He’s nothing like you,” she declared. “His name’s Tim, he works at the station with me, and I’m sure you two will get along great when he gets back.”

“Gets back? Where’s he gone?”

“He’s gonna’ be on the road for several months. It’s a work thing,” she said casually. “But as soon as he returns, we’ll be doing the whole wedding extravaganza, so it goes without saying that I expect you to be there.”

“Hang on, what? Wedding?” he sputtered.

“Well, he sort of proposed and I sort of accepted. It won’t be a big deal; neither of us want that.”

“I’d say it’s a bit of a big deal,” he countered. “You and marriage, it’s like…two things that don’t naturally go together. And you’re absolutely sure he’s not an Italian viscount who’s after your money?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“And he makes you happy?” he asked in a more serious tone.

“He makes me very happy,” she asserted.

“Then I like him already, even if he is a bloody Yank.”

“Careful. I’m going to be Mrs. Bloody Yank,” she reminded him.

“Fine, fine. But if he ever sets a foot wrong—“

“I know, I know, you’ll set the dogs on him.”

“Exactly. Now this hypothetical wedding is gonna’ be open bar, right?” he asked, offering his elbow to her.

“Absolutely,” she answered, taking his arm as they made their way back to the house.

“Brilliant. I’ll be there.”