memory was weird, he thought, remembering how at sixteen, after the family dog had sadly departed this world, it had taken him months to stop taking that extra-wide step every time he got up off the sofa so that he didn’t accidentally step on his old faithful friend, Digger.
He eased a hand across the old familiar ache in his heart. He hadn’t thought about Digger in years.
Probably something about this place because speaking of weird, a few months living back at Knightley Hall and all he’d done was think.
About things.
All the things.
Okay, let’s get real. This place might provide the perfect ruminating ambiance but it was signing the divorce papers that had brought about that perfect trifecta of cogitation also known as: thinking about the past, present and future.
A necessary but hard task since all the work he’d put in over the years to deliberately shut-down philosophising on life’s hard questions.
Life was too short and at twenty Seth had learned the hard truth – that sometimes there were no reasons for what went down. You just had to look forward and get through, collecting as little shrapnel as possible.
The approach had served him well until at twenty-eight, finding himself at the end of something that hadn’t worked right from the beginning … probably because of too little thinking on his part, he’d been forced to conclude that going forward it might help to find out where he stood on the really big things.
Escaping the cloud of steam from the bathroom, he headed back to his room, bumping straight into his brother, Jake, in the hallway.
‘Going somewhere?’ Jake asked.
Seth shoved hair that was not quite as long and was shades lighter than his brother’s raven-coloured-brooding-Poldark-look back from his face and considered his answer.
Actually he had two places to be – the first place on account of now knowing where he stood on the really big things and the second place … yeah … there was no way it needed to get out how he made his living these days.
He had time before he needed to be at either though and contributing free labour around the place was, for the time being, the only way Seth could help out.
‘You want me to drive that framework for the courtyard garden over to The Clock House?’ he asked. It had been hard, sweaty work loading the iron fret-work Jake had designed onto one of Oscar’s flat-bed trucks so that it could be installed in the courtyard garden of the clock house later that week. Seth knew Jake was miffed about the project being badly delayed but he really hoped his brother wasn’t heading down there this afternoon to get a head-start on the installation. He’d been counting on Jake working in the gardens here, so that he could go to the clock house himself. He had a desk booked at Hive @ The Clock House and it was going to be hard enough to avoid all the curious looks, without Jake wading in with blunt questions as to what he was doing.
‘No need, I’ll do it tomorrow,’ Jake answered. ‘So have you got a job interview or something, then?’
Irritation wormed its way under Seth’s usual happy-go-lucky demeanour. That particular question came out of his brother’s mouth more often than the summer’s hit was played on the radio and played in his ear like the worst kind of ear-worm. If he had his way he’d be working here at Knightley Hall, not necessarily drawing a salary yet, but definitely recognised as part of the team.
But in order to be part of the team what he really needed to do was nail the presentation he was working on.
It was as simple and as difficult as that.
Simple because selling, whether it be a country estate, or a trip to the dentist, was supposed to be right in his wheelhouse, and so who was he if he couldn’t sell Jake on the idea this place could work harder for him, rather than the other way around?
Difficult because ever since he’d lost his job as a sales negotiator for an independent estate agency specialising in large manor house sales and got divorced, and ended up back at Knightley Hall sleeping in his old childhood room, he’d been somewhat off his game.
Not that he’d let anyone notice enough to comment on the fact. Well, except for maybe Gloria, he thought. But they were friends now and besides, her super-power was zeroing right in on a person’s weakness. He was just fortunate that lately she’d chosen to use her powers for good, rather than evil.
He didn’t think anyone other than her had worked out his confidence had sort of gone for a Burton and he’d like to keep it that way, even if it meant he had to resort to faking it until he made it.
And practising.
Practising a lot.
Because upon doing the hard thinking, he’d found to his amazement, that what he really believed in was Knightley Hall and what his brother, Jake, was trying to do here.
Since Christmas, watching his brother get up every single morning at Ungodly-Hour and work tirelessly to get the gardens ready to open to the public it had begun to sink in what this place offered and what he could offer back.
When he and Joanne had separated moving back here had been convenient even if bunking down in his old room and having to acknowledge he’d come full-circle hadn’t exactly made him feel stellar. Something about the freedom to think instead of simply taking up the next opportunity though, together with the honest hard work outdoors, had worked their considerable charm, and now?
Well, it was affirming to have something new to believe in.
Healing to discover he could make a home here.
Be a part of something bigger here.
Make a difference.
He just needed to convince Jake he was going to need someone with sales experience to drive the public to the gardens when they opened and to keep them coming back.
Seth was that person. He knew it. He felt it. He wanted it. Hell, he needed it.
‘You could say it’s job-related,’ Seth answered unsurprised to see his brother’s eyebrows this time draw down into a frown. He felt the pressure to get Jake on-board with his latest idea for generating income for the Hall mix with the pressure to get Jake to believe in him at all. ‘Look, are you going to be in later tonight?’ He’d deliver his presentation and Jake would see.
‘I guess I could make sure I am,’ Jake replied, his tone cautious, his dark eyes suspicious.
‘Good. I have something I want to run past you.’
Jake released a short, tired breath. ‘I knew it. If this is another one of your quick money-making schemes for the Hall, I’m too busy.’
‘Well, thanks bro. You know if you actually listened without the prejudice of seeing me only as the baby of the family—’
‘I’d what?’ Jake wanted to know. ‘I’d have approved the naturist glamping idea? Because who doesn’t want to worry about nakedness and treading on a garden tool and law-suits? Or what about the forest bathing retreat idea?’
Seth shook his head sadly. ‘I can’t believe you actually
