Free Wickham Hall, Part 2 by Cathy Bramley Page B

. bent to sniff the flowers.
    I threw open the window. ‘Ben!’
    He took a step back, stumbled over one of Mum’s plant pots and cursed under his breath. A thin sliver of moonlight illuminated his smile as he peered up at me. I smiled back and wondered for a second whether this was just a dream.
    â€˜Hello. I was just contemplating whether to shin up this drainpipe and bounce on your bed.’
    â€˜Keep your voice down. And why are you smelling our flowers at,’ I paused and squinted at my phone, ‘four twenty in the morning?’
    â€˜I woke up and thought about you never having seen the dawn and what a travesty that is. So I’m taking you to watch the sunrise at my favourite spot.’
    Oh. That was possibly the loveliest thing that anyone had ever done for me. It took me a moment to gather my thoughts.
    â€˜That’s a relief,’ I whispered. ‘I thought the festival showground must be on fire or something.’
    â€˜No offence, Holly, I know you’re amazing and the world’s greatest diary keeper and everything, but you wouldn’t be my first port of call in a fire. I’ve been out here for ages.’ He grinned. ‘Half of Warwickshire would have been razed to the ground by now.’
    I laughed softly. ‘Sorry, I’m a deep sleeper. It’s because I work so hard. You should try it.’
    He stared at me and then flapped his arms. ‘Well, come on then, get some clothes on, the sunrise waits for no man. Or woman. You look very cute with bedhead hair, by the way.’
    I poked my tongue out at him and shut the curtains again, hugging my excitement to myself.
    I pulled on a pair of jeans, a hoody and my trainers and ran down the stairs two at a time, trying not to wake Mum, while dragging my fingers through my hair in lieu of a hairbrush.
    I hesitated in front of the door and glanced round the hall. Boxes were still stacked behind the front door and a teetering pile of newspapers cluttered up the entrance to the kitchen. I knew there was an improvement, but even so, I didn’t want Ben to see it like this.
    I opened the door just enough to squeeze myself through and a look of curiosity flicked across Ben’s face as he tried to look past me into the hallway.
    â€˜Right, I’m ready,’ I said briskly, ‘let’s go.’
    I was about to close the door quietly when the cottage was suddenly filled with light and footsteps thumped down the stairs.
    â€˜Oh no! We’ve woken my mother,’ I hissed.
    Ben pulled an apologetic face. ‘Sorry.’
    â€˜What’s going on?’ called a voice. ‘Who’s there?’
    I put my face to the chink in the door. ‘Only me, Mum. Bye.’
    Mum opened the door wide, yelped in surprise when she saw Ben and darted back behind the door, wrapping her arms across her chest.
    My heart sank. Ben must have been able to see the mess in the hall and I felt my face burn with shame.
    Mum popped her head round the door and peered into the gloom. ‘Excuse me in my nightdress! I didn’t know we had visitors. Are you just arriving or leaving, Mr, er . . .?’ Without her glasses on she didn’t have much chance of seeing him in any detail.
    â€˜It’s Benedict, Mum, from Wickham Hall. And we’re both leaving.’
    â€˜Oh, I see,’ said Mum, her blue eyes wide with curiosity. ‘Hello, Benedict, I didn’t recognize you in the dark.’
    â€˜And to be clear, Ben has just arrived.’ I caught Ben’s eye then and sent up a silent thank-you that there wasn’t enough light to see my blushes by.
    â€˜Pleased to meet you, Mrs Swift.’ Ben extended a hand and then averted his eyes as Mum unfolded her arms from her chest to shake it. ‘Are you sure you two aren’t sisters?’
    â€˜It’s Ms Swift, actually, but you can call me Lucy.’ Mum gave him a girlish smile and ran her fingers through her hair.
    â€˜Oh,