“Right. Oh, and by the way, Cassie, don’t worry about Elfie’s house. As her oldest friend, I’ll sort it out.” Jack’s face was a picture. “You have a key, Mrs. Baxter?”
“Yes, I do. And don’t look at me like that. It’s quite common and perfectly acceptable for old, trusted friends to swap spare keys. Especially when there’s no family around. Just in case…” Her voice now wavering, Brenda began to weep as I escorted her back across the village green.
TWENTY
Elfie’s funeral was small, as per her instructions. Only Jack, Brenda and I were permitted to attend the crematorium just north of Summerlea although, of course, I had informed those at The Lion Hotel in Heatherbridge. On the day, Brenda declined to join us. Having already handed back Elfie’s key in a fit of pique, she declared herself unable to spend any more time in Jack’s company. Furthermore, she had voiced, all around the village, considerable doubt that I was Elfie’s bona fide niece. I understood that delayed shock now mixed with her grief and I tried hard to persuade her, but Brenda was adamant. Our brief friendship appeared, sadly, to be over.
~~~
“I want you to come back to Four Lawns with me, Cassie. I would really appreciate it if we could scatter Mrs. Patterson’s ashes together. What d’ you say?”
“Frankly, I’d rather not have to, but I did promise to scatter them in the coppice. Mind you, I wasn’t expecting it to be so soon. Plus, Lucy will need extra help soon with the Christmas stock. We usually help out a bit with Summerlea West’s school Christmas party, too. Oh, dear Lord…”
As Jack put a protective arm around my shoulders while we strolled along Summerlea West’s beach, it seemed natural to place an arm around his waist. A sharp breeze accompanied us and it was hard to believe that Lucy, Brenda and I had tucked into Brenda’s delicious pasties and made wonky sandcastles here such a short time ago.
Jack stopped suddenly. He lightly placed a hand on each of my shoulders and gently swivelled me around to face the sea. “What do you see, Cassie?” Not in the mood for games I replied, hoping to put him off, “A damned great expanse of grey water, topped off by an equally damned great expanse of sludgy-looking sky. Okay?”
“Perfect,” came the reply. “The seasons change, like everything else. This afternoon it’s chilly and grim, but not so long ago you, Lucy and Brenda enjoyed a great time here. The water was blue and sparkling, the sand was warm, and the sun shone.” Jack turned me round to face him. “And it’ll shine again. Things will improve.”
“Jeez, are you always so bloody cheerful and relentlessly positive, Jack? If you don’t mind me saying, I haven’t seen you shed a single tear since Elfie died.”
“Probably because I’ve been busy shoring you up,” came the acid reply. “Just because I don’t grieve publicly, does not mean I don’t grieve at all.” With that, he turned as smartly as the damp sand allowed and strode back towards the car. Arriving just in time to witness the car disappearing around a corner, I could only jump up and down, waving to catch his attention as my string of oaths blew back along the beach.
~~~
“Yes, Cassie, I know all about it.” Lucy chuckled, ushering me upstairs to the flat. “To be honest, it did sound as though you deserved it. I must say, I’d have paid good money to have seen the look on your face as he drove away. Come on, you’d have laughed if it had been, say, me.”
I grinned as I hung up my jacket. “Yeah, I suppose so. But why was he here?”
Jack and Lucy had hit it off the moment I introduced them. I had taken Jack to meet Lucy and her part-time help, Trish, a couple of days after Elfie’s death. We had needed a break from sorting out her cottage, although her belongings were mostly neatly boxed or tidily hung in wardrobes. Her paperwork was in order and most photographs were framed. One envelope in particular, though, had caught my attention and I had pocketed it.
“Mothership to Cassie, come in!” I jolted. “Come on woman. I thought you wanted to know what brought the delectable Jackson Jackson to my door.”
“Delectable, my backside.”
“Well, he seems quite keen on you, Cassie dear.”
“Sure, he is. That’s why he left me alone and vulnerable on a freezing beach. Honestly, anything could have happened! Besides, nobody could replace Scott. You know that, Lucy.”
“I didn’t feel that Jack was trying to, to be honest. He stopped off here just to ask me to keep an eye open for you. Oh, and he mentioned something about ashes and a coppice. He’s decamping to Elfie’s house for tonight and going home tomorrow. Early. Wasn’t he staying in your spare room?”
“Yep.”
Lucy groaned. “Oh, for crying out loud, Cass,” she sighed. “He’s such a decent guy…Tell you what, though, if you’re really not interested in him, I certainly wouldn’t kick him out. You might want to think about that.”
My jacket on again, I hugged Lucy and thanked her for coffee and company. “I’m sorry to be such an old misery. I don’t know, it’s just that, well, everything seems so up-in-the-air and confusing just now. By the way, whatever makes you think that Jack’s keen on me?”
Lucy winked. “Find out for yourself. That’s if you’re at all interested, of course.” The way Lucy spoke, as if issuing a challenge, at once intrigued and annoyed me.
~~~
“Hey, Cass! Cassie!” I pretended not to hear Jack calling as I boarded the bus back to Summerlea. I was tired and hungry, and all I wanted to do was eat, shower and curl up on the sofa. Besides, he had chosen to spend his last night in the village at Elfie’s. In the morning Jackson Jackson would be gone and that would be that. End of.
Cassie, darling, come on. Scott’s voice in my mind was the panacea my soul needed. It was a couple of months since I had heard him, whereas he used to speak to me two or three times a day, every day. Listen to me, Cass. Jack’s been sent to you, just like Elfie was. Yes, she really was! Ask George Shepherd if you don’t believe me, he doesn’t have much longer but he’s left you a letter explaining things. Look, you and I will always love each other, but I can’t be there to hold you, share a meal with you, leave the top off the toothpaste just to tease you. Jack’s a good man, Cassie. If you think you could feel anything for him then you must give him, and yourself, a chance. AND, if you still have any doubt that I’m actually speaking to you, he’s going to knock the door a little after seven, bringing fish and chips for supper, and some flowers. If you STILL need convincing, a white flower will fall from the bunch. By the way, that yellow diamond ring should go to Elfie’s daughter. Speak soon sweetheart.
During the short walk from the bus stop to my cottage, I began to remember what inner peace felt like. Scott’s spirit presence had to be real since he never knew about the yellow diamond during his lifetime. I dared to hope he was correct about Jack, too. I began to fancy fish and chips! A match to the living room wood burner, a quick shower and I was ready. Plates were warming and trays were set. I sat by the fire and waited. And waited. By seven-twenty I had broken into my emergency chocolate supplies. Thankfully, only a small bar had been consumed when there was a knock on the door, causing me to jump, dropping the tin.
We began to speak at the same time. “You first.”
“I was going to say how lovely you smell. All citrusy and beautiful. A real treat after being stuck in traffic for ages.” Jack smiled as he followed me through to the kitchen.
“Oh,” I teased, thinking how gentlemanly he could be when he chose. “I was just thinking the same about you. Eau de fish supper, if I’m not mistaken.” Hoping Jack had not noticed it, I deftly kicked a chocolate wafer beneath the fridge as we each apologised for our part in our earlier spat.
“Sorry, Cass, are you expecting company?” Jack gestured towards the trays. “Yes. You,” I chuckled, lifting the warm plates from the oven. “I knew you’d be here.” He looked suitably surprised, asking if I was psychic.
Grinning as we carried our supper in by the fireside, I replied, “You have no idea.”
After supper, Jack went out to his car. “I forgot these just now, Cass.”
Sure enough, one white flower fluttered from the proffered bunch to the floor.
TWENTY-ONE
On the twelfth of November Jack and I sat once again on the garden seat by the coppice at Four Lawns. Elfie’s ashes had duly been scattered and the priest, kindly come to bless the little occasion, had departed. Father Joseph had left some photographs of Four Lawns as it would have been when the young, pregnant Elfie arrived. Also, in the box were papers and floorplans from that time. “You’re very welcome to keep them if it helps,” the priest offered. “Thankfully, I will never need them.” He shook his head sadly. “Such a sad state of affairs.”
“So, what happens now? Who’s running the show, as it were?”
“Good question.” Jack shrugged as we walked back to the mansion. “Frankly, Cassie, I’ve no idea. I suppose it belongs to Mrs. Patterson’s daughter now, whoever she is. Any ideas?” I shook my head and we continued in companionable silence. At this stage, without concrete evidence, I preferred to keep my suspicion to myself.
Later that evening, as we sat in Elfie’s living room poring over Father Joseph’s box of papers, Jack answered a knock on the apartment door. Beth blushed, explaining that, for some unknown reason, the staff wages had not been paid. “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Harrington, but the others thought that since Jack knows you and he’s my brother…”
“That you should be the one to disturb Mrs. Harrington at such a time,” interjected Jack, shooting an annoyed glance at his sister.
“No, no. It’s fine, Beth, really. Please, will you tell the staff I’ll sort it out tomorrow. And please forward my apologies.” I placed an arm around Beth’s shoulder. “Until probate’s been sorted things might be up in the air a bit. Who normally handles the accounts, do you know?”
“Mrs. Patterson does. Did.” Beth glanced sheepishly at Jack, who now grinned broadly.
“Come on Beth. Out with it. You won’t be in any trouble, but I know you’re hiding something. I remember that look from years ago. You can’t fool your big brother.”
A relieved Beth led us through to Elfie’s bedroom where she pressed a hidden button of sorts beneath a shelf. Immediately, a wall panel opened, revealing Elfie’s office. “I’m not even going to ask how you know about this. Even I didn’t. Still, since we’re all here, is there anything else we should know?”
“Yes Jack. Mrs. Patterson didn’t have a safe. Everything was just filed away in boxes. Do you want me to help you look around?”
“No thanks, Beth, we’ll be fine,” I chimed in. “If you’ll just give the staff my message, thanks. You know, you’ve saved us a lot of time. This has been a huge help.”
Jack opened the door for his sister, sternly requesting that she say nothing to anyone of the hidden office and paperwork.
~~~
The staff pay situation having been sorted out the following morning, Jack and I decided we deserved a break from Four Lawns. The Horse and Hounds pub, in the village, did us proud for lunch. Replete, we claimed a small sofa in front of the log burner, where we sipped our drinks, reluctant to swap the welcoming ambience within for the stormy dullness without.
“This reminds me of our fish supper by the fire at your place, Cass. I can’t tell you how much I enjoyed that evening. I’m usually at Four Lawns in the dining room, or some hotel or other.”
“Aww, bless your heart. But you were staying at mine anyway. Well, up until that last evening.”
“Yeah, I know. But that evening, well, for some reason it was just different.”
I smiled drowsily at him, wine and warmth now taking hold of me. “Hmm, I know what you mean.”
We watched in silence as a huge log gradually turned from blaze to glow and, finally, to ash before putting on our coats and braving the elements.
~~~
The pair of us spent the next three days sorting through Elfie’s paperwork and Father Joseph’s box of papers, photographs and floorplans.
I held a photograph aloft. “Jack, look at this! It’s Elfie, I’d recognise her anywhere, and she’s holding what looks like a bundle of old rags, or, a baby. Oh, and there’s a nun, just in shot. Golly, talk about a face like a bag of spanners! She doesn’t look remotely merciful, does she? Wonder what they were up to? Elfie certainly doesn’t look happy. Still, I don’t suppose she would, given the circumstances.”
Regarding the photograph sombrely, Jack slowly shook his head. “She told me about this. Apparently, this spanner-faced nun used to pick some of the pregnant girls to help bury some of the miscarried or stillborn babies, one of which Mrs. Patterson appears to be holding. Nothing was ever admitted or proven of course, but it was widely believed amongst many of the girls that the shock of this practice could have been intended to cause early labour.”
“My God, Jack,” I whispered, hoarsely, “Tell me it wasn’t so. I can’t believe that.”
“Afraid so. The place was run like a business. Quicker turnover, more money. Simple. That’s what the girls believed, anyway. Of course, nothing was ever proved. Frankly, if Mrs. Patterson hadn’t told me herself, I wouldn’t have believed it.” Seeing the look on my face, Jack continued, “Of course, there were some kind nuns as well, Cassie. In fact, one of the kinder ones gave Mrs. Patterson some details of her baby’s adoption, and a small photograph of her daughter. Here, look.”
Immediately I recognised, even in one so small, those eyes, that nose and the dimpled little chin. “You know who it is, don’t you? Care to tell?”
“Yes, I believe I do. And no, I wouldn’t. Well, not just yet, until I’m absolutely certain. Sorry Jack. Anyway, I’m off home tomorrow, so I’ll make a start a few days later. It shouldn’t take too long to sort out, then I’ll let you know. Okay?”
“Okay, as it’s you. I’ll miss you, though.”
TWENTY-TWO
In my pyjamas and dressing gown, fed and showered, I watched intently as another log spat and sparked in the wood burner. Since childhood I had always looked for the amazing animals or faces that burning logs often seem to form. Jack had been the first person I had known who “got it”. Unable now to concentrate on the television programme, I gave myself up to thoughts of Jack. Courtesy of Elfie, I knew that he was divorced with no children. Heaven only knew what she had told him about me. Everything, I assumed. Although having known him only a very short while, I had already begun to imagine Jack as a permanent fixture of sorts in my life. How that would work, exactly, I was not sure. That we were now firm friends was undeniable, in spite of a couple of spats. I felt there was a certain chemistry between us, although that was possibly just my imagination. As I went to answer the door on that wet, stormy night, I was not to know that, at Four Lawns, Jack was having similar thoughts.
“Brenda!”
“Can I come in please, Cass? It’s chucking it down.”
“Yes, yes, of course.” I opened the door fully, helping her off with her raincoat and ushering her in beside the fire. “I’ve come to apologise, Cassie. I was a fool and a right pain in the backside. I can’t think what came over me. I loved Elfie so much. Honestly, to think I missed her funeral…” Her voice petering out, Brenda shook her head slowly in disbelief.
Hugging her, I whispered, “It’s called grief, Brenda. Do you fancy a cuppa?”
Welcomed back into the fold, as it were, Brenda followed me to the kitchen where she dumped a wet carrier bag onto the counter. She proffered a large bunch of flowers. “Peace offering, Cass. A bit soggy, I’m afraid. Oh, and a boiled fruit cake from Lucy. I asked for her recipe but she volunteered to make it. Smells gorgeous, doesn’t it? I’m better at savoury stuff, really.” Thanking her, I cut a couple of slices to go with our tea.
By the fireside once more, I said I thought that Jack and I could have handled the “Elfie’s key” situation better. “Oh yes. Jack.” Brenda’s carrier bag gave up its final offering. “Your friend gave me this. He knocked on my door the last evening
he was here. We had a cuppa, too.”
Eyes wide in amazement, I unwrapped an exquisite scrolled silver antique photograph frame. It opened like a book, revealing a picture of Elfie on the left and another, of Brenda, opposite. The accompanying card read, “Brenda. So very sorry for behaving like a complete oaf, trampling all over your feelings. Sincerely, Jack.”
Not only was it beautiful, it came from one of the best jewellers in the land. I stared at it, lost for words.
“That holds pride of place in my heart. I keep it on my bedside cabinet. If I were you Cassie, I’d snap that man up. In fact,” Brenda teased, “If you don’t, I just might!”
~~~
The eighteenth of November was bright and chilly, and I relished the fresh sea air the nearer I cycled to Summerlea West. Brenda’s visit the previous evening had cheered me considerably and I was glad we were friends again. Jack had really played an ace with that photograph frame.
It felt good to work in the shop again, Lucy and Trish having decorated it stunningly for Christmas. I recalled Christmases past, Scott and I laughing our heads off one year as we gradually untangled tinsel and baubles late into the night so that our shop would sparkle at opening time. Luckily, before the shop opened, Scott had tested a mechanical Santa only to find it had been fitted with the wrong voice box. Instead of “Ho, ho, ho!” it boomed out a string of profanities in perfect English, with a cut-glass accent. Thankfully, we had only ordered six, so, merry with mulled wine, we later wrapped them up and gave them as presents to friends we knew would see the funny side. Feigning innocence later on, we claimed to have bought them at a Christmas market, the name of which, conveniently, neither of us could remember.
~~~
It was dark when we finally locked the shop door and Lucy and I were worn out. “It’s your fault,” I teased, “You stock the place so temptingly. I’ve booked a table at the pub, thought you deserved a treat.”
Home is Just a Feeling Page 9