Summerchester Secrets

By Hazel Elizabeth Allen

Winner, Best Romance Novel, 2016 Next Generation Indie Book Awards.

Madeline Cavendish has it all; she is a beautiful, intelligent, successful young woman with her own thriving public relations company and a substantial legacy left to her by her late father.

So why does Madeline drive a battered old car and live in a small apartment above her business premises on the main High Street? The answer is simple; she has a secret, one she hasn’t even shared with her closest friend.

Guy Manning is a big shot London architect, who makes it clear from the start that he does not want to be associated with her.

Why is Guy refusing to work with Madeline? For one reason alone, she is a Cavendish and he hates her family and everything they represent.

Henry Longstaff is a friend of both their families and has his own untold secret, which has shaped his whole life.

While Guy’s mother, Christine, has kept a family secret from her son for many years.

But when tragedy strikes the idyllic seaside market town, the fall out acts as a catalyst and uncovers the truth behind a series of long hidden, Summerchester Secrets.

www.hazelelizabethallen.com

• Language: English
• Publisher: Hazel Elizabeth Allen
• Release date: Feb 3, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386040477

Hazel Elizabeth Allen

About the author Hazel Elizabeth Allen lives on the south coast of England with her husband, BBC Radio presenter David Allen. She was born in London but grew up in Bath. Spending her formative years in this beautiful city, with its historic architecture, has inspired and influenced her writing. Hazel loves walking, especially along the coastal paths of the south coast and north Devon. It is often on these walks that she formulates many of her best story ideas. Her debut novel Summerchester Secrets was named Winner in the ROMANCE category of the 2016 Next Generation Indie Book Awards. If you enjoyed reading any of Hazel’s books please visit her website hazelelizabethallen.com to see what she is planning to publish next and to join her email list. Other titles by Hazel Elizabeth Allen SUMMERCHESTER SECRETS:                             Winner, Best Romance Novel, 2016 Next Generation Indie Book Awards.  Paperback and ebook. RETURN TO SUMMERCHESTER: Novella, available as an ebook and in paperback. SUMMERCHESTER REGRETS: Short story, available as an ebook.

Book preview

About the author

Hazel Elizabeth Allen lives on the south coast of England with her husband, BBC Radio presenter David Allen. She was born in London but grew up in Bath. Spending her formative years in this beautiful city, with its historic architecture, has inspired and influenced her writing. Hazel loves walking, especially along the coastal paths of the south coast and north Devon. It is often on these walks that she formulates many of her best story ideas.

Her debut novel Summerchester Secrets was named Winner in the ROMANCE category of the 2016 Next Generation Indie Book Awards. If you enjoyed reading any of Hazel’s books please visit her website hazelelizabethallen.com to see what she is planning to publish next and to join her email list.

Other titles by Hazel Elizabeth Allen

SUMMERCHESTER REGRETS

Short story, featuring a character from Summerchester Secrets, ebook.

RETURN TO SUMMERCHESTER

Novella, paperback and ebook.

LETTING GO

Novel, paperback and ebook.

CLICK THE LINK BELOW FOR A FREE COPY OF THE SHORT STORY

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SUMMERCHESTER REGRETS

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Hazel Elizabeth Allen| Author| Contemporary Romantic Fiction

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SUMMERCHESTER SECRETS

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by Hazel Elizabeth Allen

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Winner, Best Romance Novel

2016 Next Generation Indie Book Awards

Text copyright © 2015 Hazel Elizabeth Allen

All Rights Reserved

To my darling husband David, who has always believed in me, and in memory of my dear friend Rebecca Fisher.

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Thank you to John and Georgina for their encouragement.

Front cover original art work by Allen Morgan.

Table of Contents

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Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 1

Madeline Cavendish drew in a settling deep breath as she buttoned her outdoor coat and checked her watch.

‘Well, I guess I’d better be off.’ She turned to her companion for approval.

The older woman smiled encouragingly. ‘You look great, every inch the confident business woman.’

‘I just hope they don’t see straight through me. I’m sure I’ve got inexperience written in bold letters across my forehead.’

‘You’re not inexperienced. You have half a dozen happy clients on the books already.’

Madeline bit her lip and looked unsure. ‘Yes, but I’ve never handled anything as big as this before.’

Clara got up from her desk where she had been in the middle of typing up some correspondence and crossed the room to where her friend stood.

‘You’ll be fine Maddy, and I’m sure you can charm any doubters.’

Madeline, known as Maddy to those closest to her, had to chuckle at this remark despite her nerves. One thing Clara had taught her over the years was how to put on a winning smile, especially when it came to dealing with the opposite sex.

‘I’ll do my best.’

‘I don’t doubt that,’ Clara acknowledged, as she gave Madeline’s arm an affectionate squeeze. ‘Now don’t forget to call me on your mobile as soon as you get out of the meeting to tell me how it went.’

‘Will do,’ she nodded, feeling restored by her friend’s encouragement.

Clara had always been such a rock, Madeline often wondered what she would have done without her calming influence, especially since she’d taken the terrifyingly big step of setting up her own PR company.

As she drove through the bustling afternoon traffic of market day en route to the offices of G C Whitmarsh PLC and the most important meeting of her burgeoning career, thus far, Madeline wondered how she would have coped without Clara’s steadfast support over the years. She thanked her lucky stars that her friend had agreed to come and work with her when she launched Cavendish Public Relations.

While stationary at a crossing, allowing the hoards of shoppers weighed down with bulging carrier bags of produce to cross the road, she smiled to herself on recalling the day she had first met Clara Steviano. To an impressionable, shy, 14-year-old girl who had recently lost her mother and was struggling to come to terms with the confusing transition into womanhood, the image of the brown-eyed brunette with olive skin and voluptuous curves had appeared so incredibly glamorous, sophisticated and grown up.

Clara had come into Madeline’s life just when she’d needed the wisdom and guidance of a surrogate older sister. Aged 22, originating from Brazil and employed as an au pair, she had known all about clothes, make-up, music and how to handle men. The age gap had not been too great to prevent a strong and lasting friendship from forming between them. Clara had stayed in the family’s employment until Madeline left home to go to university and then, as a valued member of staff, she had been found a clerical position in the family firm.

After graduation, with a short stint working for a large PR company in London, Madeline had decided to go it alone. In the process she had persuaded Clara to come and work for her. Now eighteen months on, with her friend’s help, lots of good old-fashioned hard work and some luck, Madeline’s company had managed to land the prestigious contract to provide public relations support for the biggest regeneration plan ever undertaken in her hometown, the idyllic southern seaside market town of Summerchester.

She was proud to be involved with the ambitious project to restore the lofty redbrick factory buildings, situated at the heart of the town, which had once housed the century-old Summerchester Brewery. Forgotten, neglected and left derelict behind tall wooden boards for over ten years, the site was finally to be put to use again with benefits for the whole community.

She breathed a small sigh of regret as she pulled into the entrance of the office block car park and switched off her engine. If only her father had lived to witness her success. That really would have been the icing on the cake. All she’d ever wanted was to prove to him that she could make it on her own. Alas, that opportunity had been taken from her with his premature passing. Nevertheless, Madeline knew only too well that life could be cruel and harsh, and wishing things were different was futile.

Taking the lift to the fifth floor she paused for a moment before entering the boardroom of the construction company where the meeting would be held. Removing her outdoor coat she smoothed down the skirt of her tailored black suit and patted the back of her head to check that her hair was still securely fastened. Straightening her back and with a lift of the chin to encourage a confidence she did not really feel, she went inside.

On entering Madeline was straight away struck by the fact that every single person there was male and the majority were middle-aged. Well, construction has always been a male-dominated field, she thought, with a twinge of resentment. She knew this fact only too well considering her family had been in the business for generations. However, with her background and pedigree she hoped they would at least credit her with a good knowledge of the trade.

Coffees were being handed out and people were starting to take their seats so Madeline found an empty chair and extracted from her leather-bound briefcase the meticulously prepared, typewritten notes she had brought with her. In preparation and to settle her nerves she quickly scanned the documents, even though she knew her presentation off by heart.

A few seconds later the gentle buzz of conversation in the room was interrupted momentarily when the door into the boardroom opened wide with a flourish, and the majority of those gathered stopped what they were doing and looked round as in strode a man with a confident air of importance.

Madeline was distracted by the newcomer for a moment as she watched him make his entrance. She calculated that he was probably in his early thirties and, dressed in an immaculately tailored charcoal grey suit with a pristine white shirt and expensive looking necktie, he had big-city success written all over him.

She continued to observe him as he purposefully found a place at the head of the table and began to extract large sheets of embossed paper from a rectangular, black, artist’s folder. From the designs laid out before him she deduced that he must be the hot shot architect from London that everyone had been talking about. Gerald Whitmarsh, the company’s CEO, and the man who would be heading up the whole project, had told her on more than one occasion that he was expecting great things from the talented young architect, who they had apparently been very lucky to engage. Gerald was hoping for an innovative design that would really put Summerchester on the map, for the award-winning architect was renowned for his use of cutting-edge materials and state-of-the-art techniques.

She tried to recall his name but had to resort to looking at her notes for clarity. ‘Guy Manning of Fraser and Schuster Designs, Chelsea Harbour, London.’ Great address, she thought, as she glanced up once more but then, to her surprise, she found eyes of scrutiny upon her and the expression on Mr Manning’s face was certainly not friendly or welcoming. Madeline felt herself go cold at his look of disdain coupled with the furrowing of his brow.

Maybe he doesn’t like women being involved in the building industry, she thought, but she could not help but feel that his unwavering glare of blatant disapproval was personal to her. Before long she had to let her eyes drop, for she could not stand to meet his gaze a moment longer.

She deliberately busied herself making a show of rearranging the pile of papers in front of her on the table, but still Madeline could sense his eyes upon her. A wave of self-doubt washed over her, and she longed to be out of the stuffy boardroom environment and away from the unnerving presence of the man who watched her so intently.

She managed to hold her nerve, and much to her relief a few minutes later Gerald Whitmarsh joined the gathering and called the meeting to order. As introductions were made around the table and proceedings got underway she tried to focus on the job in hand. Nevertheless, this was far from easy, for throughout the two-hour meeting Guy Manning kept up his constant vigil with his focus fixed on her at all times.

When it came to her turn to speak she was a complete bag of nerves. Her mouth felt dry and her stomach constricted into a knot of fear. How she got through it she just did not know, but eventually she managed to outline her plans for the project’s public relations input in full.

All through her presentation the architect was stony-faced and showed not a hint of emotion. She did not know how to take this but at the same time she had to concentrate so hard on what she was trying to say that there was no time to analyse what he could be thinking.

Only when he stood up to give his address, accompanied by a slide show depicting the architectural plans for the development in 3D computer images, was Madeleine able to relax a little. Nevertheless, she could not prevent her mind racing.

What had she done to deserve this man’s unwelcome attention, she wondered?

Determined to concentrate on proceedings she busied her hands taking notes. The images on the screen were impressive, and she felt a twinge of excitement return at the thought of being part of such a bold scheme, however, the reaction of Guy Manning to her presence was certainly tainting the experience somewhat.

Pull yourself together, she thought sternly. You can handle him; he’s probably just wondering why a relatively unknown public relations company has managed to secure such a sought-after account. She had worked night and day to prepare the bid that had eventually won her the contract, and once that hurdle had been jumped she’d then spent just as long preparing for the real work to begin, so she felt more than ready for the challenges that lay ahead.

She would just have to prove herself to the newcomer. Being the offspring of Sir Robert Cavendish she’d spent her whole life trying to prove her own worth and attempting to dispel the assumption that she was just the spoilt daughter of a rich, successful man who was only ever going to get on in life because of her family name. Guy Manning was no different, she told herself, just another sceptic to be won over.

As the meeting broke up and fell into a more informal atmosphere those present gathered their things together and started to chat easily amongst themselves. Gerald moved around the room facilitating introductions between those individuals who were not already acquainted. Most of the contractors knew each other well, from working on similar projects together in the past, so the main attention focused on Guy Manning whom everyone appeared eager to meet. As his colleagues talked, Gerald skilfully guided the young architect from person to person.

Madeline sought sanctuary chatting to Brian Clayton who ran his own highly respected and successful local plumbing business. A contemporary of her father and a genuinely kind man, who she’d known all her life, she was glad to find an ally she could converse with easily.

Surreptitiously, she watched Guy Manning work the room. His smile appeared genuine enough when he shook hands with the men he was going to work with, and he was getting plenty of enthusiastic nods of agreement, suggesting the discussions were positive and upbeat.

The closer they came to where she and Brian stood the more nervous she felt. Chill out, she told herself firmly. I’m probably being paranoid imagining he doesn’t like me, and I could well have misread his earlier scrutiny as hostile. Perhaps he’s just weighing me up and trying to decide if I’m going to be his sort of person.

Brian was telling her that his team’s workload would have to double if he was going to keep to the tight schedule planned for the brewery renovation and that this meant recruiting a lot more casual staff. She smiled, nodded and offered appropriate positive remarks, but she was finding it hard to concentrate on what he was saying.

Then it was their turn to be granted an audience. Gerald beamed with pleasure and gave Madeline a little wink of encouragement as they approached. She deliberately fixed her features with a broad smile of greeting and tried to ignore the look of hostility which washed over Guy’s face as they were introduced.

‘And here we have Brian Clayton, our expert plumber, and Madeline Cavendish who will be looking after all the promotion and liaison needed to keep the project running smoothly.’

‘Cavendish,’ stated Guy, his eyes narrowing with a look of disdain.

She’d not heard her family name uttered with such venom before, but she met his unwelcome glare lifting her chin defiantly. ‘Yes, Cavendish,’ she replied curtly.

‘Did you know Madeline’s father, Sir Robert?’ interjected Gerald congenially, seemingly unaware of the growing tension.

‘Oh yes, I knew of the man.’

She could sense a powerful resentment behind the words. His tone was one of contempt and the look on his face suggested he was referring to a very distasteful subject. Madeleine could feel a wave of anger build in the pit of her stomach as she waited to hear what he had to say next.

‘So you’re the daughter then?’ he continued, apparently spurred on by the flash of anger in her eyes.

‘Do you have a problem with that?’ she challenged.

He shrugged and lifted his eyebrows in a show of indifference. ‘We’ll see.’

The remark was incredibly dismissive and then he paused for a moment, looked her up and down, just once, as if he were assessing her in some way, and then swiftly turned his attention to Brian. At no time during the encounter did he deem to extend a hand of friendship, and she certainly had no intention of making the first move.

When speaking to the plumber an expression of calm focus returned to his features. This instant change in mood and transition back to a controlled professional demeanour implied that Guy Manning viewed the blatant animosity he had shown Madeline as acceptable behaviour. The arrogance of the man is astonishing, she thought in disbelief, and I have to work with him. Great!

As the two men talked about the intricacies of the high-tech drainage system, to add insult to injury, as if the way he had spoken to her was not bad enough, Guy Manning casually, yet deliberately, adjusted his position, turning his back on her and stretching out his right arm to rest on the back of one of the boardroom’s high-backed chairs. In doing so he immediately created a barrier between her and the rest of the group. Although subtle, it was just enough to shut her out of the conversation, leaving her standing alone feeling awkward and self-conscious. This obvious attempt to exclude her was a further slap in the face and it made her blood boil.

She stood still for a moment, fighting a strong desire to tap him on the shoulder forcefully and ask him straight out why he was being so rude. However, she was determined not to be intimidated, so to show her defiance and indifference she turned swiftly on her heels and walked purposefully across to the far side of the room where she busied herself engaging in conversation with some of the other contractors she knew. Thankfully, soon after this people started to leave so she swiftly said her goodbyes, collected her belongings and left.

As she travelled back down in the lift she was still feeling angry. What was that all about, she wondered, and why had she allowed a complete stranger to get under her skin so easily?

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Madeline was just exiting the local supermarket on her journey home, after picking up a few items for supper back at her flat, which was conveniently situated above her company’s office on the High Street, when her mobile rang out its demanding cry. She just managed to place the shopping into the boot of her VW Polo and extract the phone from the bottom of her handbag before she missed the call.

‘Madeline Cavendish.’

‘Maddy, it’s Gerald.’

For some reason her heart sank when she heard his voice and instantly she had a feeling of foreboding.

He cleared his throat nervously. ‘I’ll come straight to the point. I’m afraid we have a slight problem, nothing I’m sure we can’t resolve though.’ He hesitated for a second and she waited.

‘Yes?’ she prompted cautiously.

‘Well it’s Guy, actually, Guy Manning the architect.’

The mere mention of his name made her feel irritated once more.

‘Right, Mr Manning, yes,’ she tried to sound casual but she could detect the hint of sharpness in her own voice.

‘Well, I don’t really know how to put this, but the thing is he’s refusing to work with you.’

‘I see.’ Stunned by what she was hearing Madeline really didn’t know what else to say, but then a spark of anger ignited once more when she recalled her earlier encounter with the man.

‘Why?’ she asked pointedly. ‘We only just met. How can he possibly object to working with me? He doesn’t even know me. What is his problem?’

‘Well, it’s awkward really.’ He sounded embarrassed and she cursed Guy Manning for putting Gerald in such a difficult position.

‘I’ve done my homework in preparation for the PR on this project, you know that, no one can say otherwise.’

‘Oh no,’ assured Gerald, ‘he made no reference to your ability to do the work.’

‘What then?’ she demanded brusquely.

‘This may sound a bit odd but he said that his objections to having you on the team were personal.’

‘Personal,’ she countered. ‘I don’t understand.’

‘I think it may have something to do with your father.’

She paused for a second, feeling confused. ‘Well yes, he was rather unpleasant when you mentioned Dad’s name earlier. Have they had business dealings in the past?’

‘No, not as far as I’m aware. In truth I don’t know what it’s about, I didn't press him for details because frankly I don’t really want to know.’

‘So what happens now? Am I off the project?’ Her pulse quickened as she awaited his reply.

‘No, of course not,’ he sounded hurt by the suggestion but Madeline was relieved to hear him say it.

Gerald continued, his tone more soothing. ‘I think I managed to talk him round for now. I told him straight that there’s no place for personal grudges in the world of business.’

‘Thanks,’ she replied with feeling, grateful for his loyalty.

‘The thing is it still leaves me in a tricky position. You saw the plans; the concept is great, just what I was hoping for. Frankly I’m delighted, excited even, so we really can’t afford to lose this chap.’

‘You’re saying I’m more expendable than he is?’

‘No, you have me wrong, I wouldn’t let you go just on his say so. I’ve known your family too long and besides I won’t be bullied.’

She had to smile at his steadfast support. She might not like it much but being a Cavendish did have its advantages sometimes.

‘So what are you saying then?’ she asked tentatively.

‘Talk to him, get to know him. See if you can win him over. I don’t know what his problem is, but I can’t see why the two of you can’t work together.’

Madeline sighed with frustration. ‘Okay Gerald, I’ll do my best, but he doesn’t strike me as the most approachable of people.’

‘Well no, maybe not,’ he conceded, ‘but he’s good at what he does and having him on board really gives this scheme the kudos it deserves.’

‘I’m hearing you loud and clear,’ she agreed. ‘I will try my best, for you, but also because I really care about this project and what it will bring to Summerchester.’

‘Good girl, I knew I could rely on you. I'm sure this is just a storm in a teacup and we’ll all rub along nicely together once we get to know each other.’

‘I hope so,’ she replied sceptically.

‘Oh yes, I’m sure of it,’ concluded Gerald, sounding pleased with himself, as if the problem was already resolved.

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Madeline sat in her car with the keys hanging in the ignition and just stared into space. Her blood was at boiling point. How dare this man turn up from London in his flash suit, arrogant and aloof, and start calling the shots, expecting to have a say in who he will, or will not work with.

She didn’t care to know what his problem was, or what issues he may have had with her late father. What mattered was the here and now, and she was determined not to let him squeeze her out of a project she had been preparing for, for months. Just like Gerald she had been involved right from the start and more importantly she would remain in the town long after the likes of Guy Manning had gone back to his high and mighty life in the city. She had a right to be involved ten times greater than he’d ever have.

However, she wasn’t stupid and had to be realistic. Gerald Whitmarsh was a faithful old family friend, and a good man, and he was clearly prepared to fight her corner, but she was replaceable. There were plenty of other public relations firms waiting in the wings who would be delighted to step into her shoes if it became too much of an issue. He’d been diplomatic and polite, but Gerald would have little choice about having to let her go if he was faced with the possibility of losing one of the best architects in the country.

Finding another architect at short notice and waiting for new plans to be drawn up and agreed could put the whole scheme back months and cost thousands of pounds. So however much she disliked Guy Manning she would just have to put up with his surly behaviour and work alongside him the best she could. She wasn’t one to give up without a fight, that wasn’t the Cavendish way, and anyway she needed the work, it was as simple as that.

For a brief moment she did wonder what had happened to make this man hate her family so fervently. No, she told herself firmly, he’s the one with the problem not me.

Chapter 2

The Mayor of Summerchester believed firmly in public consultation. Although the plans for the brewery renovation had already been agreed, and work on the site was due to start in four weeks time, he still wanted the people of the town to have their say. An empty retail unit in the High Street, a stone’s throw from the Town Hall and conveniently close to Madeline’s office, had been commandeered and refurbished as a public information and Visitor Centre to promote the project.

The setting up and running of the Centre was the first item on the long list of responsibilities, which stretched ahead of Madeline, right through to the completion of work scheduled for approximately eighteen months time.

There would be cafés, restaurants, a cinema, shops, office space, and high-end luxury apartments, as well as room for community projects like a crèche for shoppers and a small museum. The museum would be run by the Summerchester Historical Society. They were a group of passionate individuals whom she knew she’d have to keep happy throughout the project, as well as all the other stakeholders who were moving their businesses into the new complex.

It was both exciting and daunting at the same time, but after weeks of planning and lengthy discussions it was nice to get started. The only cloud on the horizon was that today was the first occasion since the launch meeting, three weeks earlier, that she would have to come face to face once more with Guy Manning, and the prospect made her a little nervous.

She spent the day supervising the final fitting and layout of the Centre. With the aid of one of the shopfitters she decided on the positioning of the large glossy prints, which would adorn the walls, depicting an artist’s interpretation of how the centrepiece of the brewery complex, Brewery Square, would look once complete.

The broad, sweeping pedestrianised area at its centre would be dominated by an impressive circular fountain. It would be welcoming, dotted with seating areas and broken up by large ornamental urns brimming with flowers and rich dark green foliage. In deciding where the pictures should be hung she was trying to ensure maximum impact, for she wanted to wow people as soon as they walked in through the door.

After lunch, the company who had spent months making a scaled-down model of the site arrived and assembled their creation on a large purpose-built, flat, white plinth, which they positioned in the centre of the room. She loved the intricate attention to detail in the tiny world they had created and it was the perfect final touch to the whole display. By 5 o’clock, when Gerald and Guy were due to arrive to inspect her handiwork, she was more than satisfied with how everything looked.

Clara arrived at 4:30 to sit behind the welcome desk in order to complete the picture. She’d brought with her two large bouquets of flowers which she arranged and placed around the room in modern, shapely glass vases. She brewed coffee in the percolator ready to serve, and the room was filled with a satisfying mixed aroma of coffee, fragrant lilies and the clean smell of newly fitted carpets and freshly painted walls.

When the bell above the shop door chimed hailing their arrival and Maddy turned to greet them she felt more than ready for the inspection. As soon as Guy walked in their eyes met, but instead of being intimidated by the directness of his gaze she bravely met it straight on.

Gerald was looking around and smiling, and she was relieved to see that he appeared pleased.

‘I like it Maddy, it’s clean, fresh and well laid out. Very accessible and welcoming, don’t you agree, Guy?’

They both looked at him expectantly, awaiting his reply.

Guy Manning took his time surveying the set-up and then deemed to give his response. ‘It will do,’ he replied dismissively.

Madeline chose to ignore his negativity and smiled at both men. ‘Good, well would you like a coffee, just brewed, before we continue the tour?’

‘That would be great,’ said Gerald