‘Excellent,’ Bradley beamed. ‘I mean… I don’t mean excellent, that you… that you are no longer…’
He held up both hands palms facing out.
‘I know what you mean, I’m not offended,’ said Jess with a warm smile.
Bradley relaxed.
‘Unfortunately, the same goes for any partner you might live with. The three trustees are myself, Mr Beanney and you, Jess. Should you require anything financially from the trust we will have to have a meeting before the transaction will be allowed. Please don’t think we will be too restrictive. You are the main trustee and we will support any reasonable request.’ He smiled earnestly at her. ‘We are there to ensure that a third party doesn’t attempt to gain personally at your expense.’
Jess laughed. ‘Nana and I share a taste in men. She liked very few and trusted even fewer of them. She thought I might be taken advantage of. I disagree, but I’m not going to argue about it.’
‘Everything we have in here,’ Bradley patted the file, ‘is for your benefit and your welfare. The trust will run for a further one hundred and twenty-two years, but you will be allowed to renew or review the trust to include any children or add their assets to it should they wish to do so.’
Bradley paused. ‘It helps with death duties and taxes too.’
‘I hadn’t thought about any of that stuff,’ said Jess with a look of bewilderment.
‘As I said, I do have to give you a detailed statement but I’ll keep it as short as possible.’ Bradley smiled reassuringly.
‘Mrs Mollison requested that the trust pays you an annual allowance of some twenty-five thousand pounds. Now, although this is taxable… it is income after all… the sums are for your personal use and there are no restrictions on how you spend it. Council Tax, water charges etc are to be met by the trust but you will pay for your own utility bills. The farmhouse is valued at eight hundred thousand pounds and is yours to live in or rent out as you choose, the cost of any repairs or alterations will be met by the trust. The properties in London are either leased out or rented and bring in an annual income of some one hundred and fifty thousand pounds. Shares your grandmother purchased over the years bring in a similar amount.’
Jess put her hands to her forehead and tried to concentrate as Bradley continued the list of assets and liabilities but she soon got lost in the seemingly endless projections of future earnings, tax exemptions and annual property valuations. As Bradley read on, she found herself looking at the black and white photographs on the wall. One in particular caught her attention. A good-looking man, with a winning smile, wearing a gangster style hat tipped over one eye.
‘Godfrey,’ she whispered to herself. She smiled as she recalled Alice’s description of him. She looked around the room at the beautifully highly polished Edwardian furniture. She wondered if the layout had been the same when Alice sat in front of this very desk all those years ago. Then she remembered what Alice had written about that meeting, how she had seduced Godfrey to prove to herself that it was her, not him that held the power in the relationship. How they had made love on the oak desk. She felt herself flush as an almost video-like image of their coupling came to her mind. Her breathing quickened and her eyes closed.
‘So, if you have any questions?’ Bradley’s voice brought her quickly back to reality. She blew out a deep breath, wiped at her brow and willed herself to speak calmly.
‘No, I think you’ve covered everything,’ she said at last. ‘I’ll have a quick look through the documents when I get home.’
‘Excellent,’ said Bradley as Jess straightened in her chair. She pointed up to the photograph she had picked out.
‘Is that Godfrey?’
‘Yes, that is he. Sadly, I never met him, but I’ve heard so much about him over the years from my mother and grandmother. He was quite a character, it seems.’
‘That’s the impression I got too,’ replied Jess. ‘Alice was quite taken by—’ She stopped abruptly as she realised the connotations of her statement. ‘She mentions him in her diaries.’
‘I wondered why there were photographs of her hidden away in one of the files,’ he said.
‘Really! Pictures of Alice? Could I see them, please?’
Bradley got up quickly from his chair and rummaged about in one of the large green boxes. ‘Here we are,’ he said, holding a green file in the air.
Back at his desk he opened the file and pulled out three, large black and white photographs. He studied one before handing it to Jess.
‘She was very beautiful. She reminds me of that film actress from the wartime movies you see on TV, what was her name?’
‘Rita Hayworth,’ replied Jess. ‘Everyone commented on the resemblance.’
Bradley slid another picture across the desk. ‘You look so much like her in this one,’ he paused, looked from the picture to Jess, then back again. ‘Stunning,’ he said.
Jess felt herself blush.
The photograph was of Alice, leaning against an old Alvis car. She quickly understood why Alice had called it, Godfrey’s ‘Gangster Car’. She had seen similar ones herself in the old James Cagney movies.
‘Then there’s this one. Godfrey and Alice together. I think I understand why he hid them away.’ Bradley smiled as he slid the photo across the desk.
The picture was of Alice and Godfrey standing by the gate at the farm. Alice was wearing a bright, floral summer frock with white shoes whilst Godfrey was in rolled-up shirt sleeves, he had his arm around her shoulders and they were looking at each other with such loving expressions that Jess immediately felt a lump in her throat.
‘There’s a note on the back,’ Bradley said.
Jess turned the picture over.
1940. Gangster Godfrey and Alice Hussy, very much in love.
Taken by Amy Rowlings, the gooseberry.
Jess ran her finger over the photograph.
‘This is beautiful. Could I make a copy? She had such a hard time back then but she looks so happy here.’
‘Keep them,’ said Bradley. ‘I don’t think my family would want to see them and I’d hate them to be destroyed. He kept them hidden away in the old files for a reason. Maybe you are that reason.’
Jess looked at the photographs again and slipped all three into her bag.
‘Thank you so much,’ she said, croakily.
She pushed a hand across the desk, Bradley took it gently in his.
‘God bless them both,’ he said.
Ten minutes later, with a folder full of documents in her lap and two full sets of keys to the farmhouse in her bag. Jessica cleared her throat and began to get to her feet.
‘This is so emotional, forgive me if I burst into floods of tears.’
Bradley got to his feet and came around to the other side of the desk. ‘I fully understand. She was your favourite person on earth and now what was hers, is yours.’ He placed a hand on her arm as she stood. ‘I hope you’ll be very happy in the farmhouse. There will be improvements you will want to make, a new kitchen, bathroom, technology… Just call and Mr Beanney and I will sign off anything you ask for. We are here to serve you. We’re not here solely to protect the assets.
Jess looked into Bradley’s deep brown eyes. On impulse she leaned forward and pecked him on the cheek.
‘I hope that isn’t too familiar… I take after my great grandmother you see.’
Bradley grinned and looked at his watch. ‘Look, it’s four-thirty and I haven’t so much as offered you a cup of coffee. Could I possibly make up for it by buying you a late lunch… early tea?’
Jess tipped her head to one side and studied him. ‘Oh, I’m not sure I’d feel safe, out and about with the descendent of a gangster.’
‘Bradley grinned again. ‘I’ll leave my machine gun in the office,’ he said.
‘Then, a late lunch/early tea sounds like a great idea, I’m starving. Where shall we go? I don’t think they serve meals in the pub this late in the afternoon.’
‘There’s a hot
el come restaurant along the road a bit. It’s been there forever. They’ll whip us something up, I’m sure.’
Bradley led Jess out of the office and across the reception. Melanie dropped her phone on the desk. Her eyes narrowed as they followed Jess across the room.
‘Lock up, when you finish please, Melanie,’ Bradley called over his shoulder as he opened the big glass door for Jess. ‘I won’t be back this afternoon.’
Chapter 8
In the car park, Bradley walked to a sleek, silver Mercedes, parked in his own personal space. ‘Shall we go together or do you want to follow me? It isn’t far.’
Jess thought for a moment. ‘I’ll follow you if that’s all right? I have to go back to my friend’s flat to pick a few things up before I go to the farm.’ She pressed a button on her key fob to unlock her car.
Bradley got into the Mercedes and pulled out onto the main road.
Jess hurriedly fired up her little Toyota and waited as a white van passed the entrance before pulling out herself. The van turned into an industrial unit about two hundred yards along the road leaving her with an unobstructed view of Bradley’s car.
About a mile further along, the Mercedes turned right at a faded, wooden sign that read, Café Blanc. Jessica had driven past it many times but had never been inside. She followed Bradley along a narrow, tree lined, asphalt track. Autumn was biding its time and many of the trees still held onto their leaves. At the end of the drive was a large, white painted building, the front of which was partly covered by crimson, climbing roses. White painted metal tables surrounded by wrought iron chairs were set out on a forecourt at the front. They parked up in an almost empty car park at the back of the restaurant and walked among the still-flowering rose shrubs that had been planted either side of a weather-worn, stone path and made their way to the oak-framed, panelled-glass, entrance.
‘It’s a beautiful afternoon for October. Shall we have our late lunch al fresco, or would you rather sit inside?’ Bradley offered his hand towards the table lined forecourt.
‘It’s warm enough to sit outside, don’t you think? It is lovely out here.’
Bradley smiled. ‘I hoped you’d say that. Choose a table, I’ll nip in and let them know we’re out here.’
Jessica selected a table close to a low wall that bordered a neat, well cared for shrubbery, placed her bag on the table and sat down facing the old white building. Bradley joined her a few minutes later and pulled out a chair so he could sit facing her.
‘Do you know, I have the strange feeling that I’ve been here before, but I’m sure that I haven’t.’ Jess swivelled in her chair and looked around.
‘Maybe you came here with your parents when you were young,’ Bradley suggested.
Jess shook her head. ‘It’s not the sort of place my parents would patronise. They found other things to spend their money on. Maybe I came here with Nana.’
A pretty waitress arrived with two menus and a notepad. Jess ordered a spicy veggie wrap while Bradley asked for a chicken satay salad.
‘Would you like a drink with your meal?’ The waitress waited; pen poised.
Bradley tilted his head and looked across at Jess. ‘A cocktail, maybe? They do a lovely Martini here.’
‘Just a glass of mineral water please. I’ll be using the car until late evening.’
‘Very sensible,’ said Bradley and ordered up a diet cola.
Jess watched the waitress walk back to the restaurant, then threw her head back, her eyes wide.
‘I suddenly realised why I thought I’d been here before,’ she said.
Bradley looked at her quizzically.
‘Nana’s memoirs! She came here with Godfrey, I’m sure of it. She had a Martini, but she thought it was called a Martina. She’d never had a cocktail before.’
Bradley’s jaw dropped. ‘The Martina cocktail is our family’s drink of choice when we all get together at Christmas. I have no idea who first mixed it, but it had to be someone in the family because you can’t order one in a cocktail bar without explaining how it should be constructed.’
Jess laughed. ‘In her memoir, Nana said that Godfrey was so delighted by her faux pas, that he was going to design a cocktail called a Martina. He actually mixed one for her at a New Year’s party at the farm.’
Bradley grinned and raised his glass to Jess. ‘That’s one family mystery solved.’ He looked up at the sky. ‘It really has turned into a beautiful day. Wonderful weather and wonderful company. Who could ask for more?’
They chatted about the Mollison farm as they ate their meals. Bradley seemed genuinely interested in her future plans.
‘So, you’re going to move into the farmhouse immediately?’
‘Yes, I think so. I’m staying with my best friend at the moment but I feel awkward, especially when her boyfriend stays over. I hate being a gooseberry.’ She looked across at him as she placed her knife and fork onto her empty plate. ‘Do you own your own place?’
‘Sadly not. I did have a mortgage at one time. I was married for a short period and we bought a house on the outskirts of Gillingham, but the marriage was doomed to failure. We weren’t mature enough to make it work, so we parted before the relationship got sour. We’re still on speaking terms,’ he added brightly.
‘That’s a shame, how old were you?’ Jess wiped her mouth on the colourful paper napkin, screwed it up and dropped it onto her plate.
‘I was twenty, she was nineteen. It was a whirlwind romance. As I said, doomed to failure.’
‘So, you sold the house?’
‘We did, and we lost a bit of money on it, not much, but we wanted a quick sale. I moved back home and stayed there for two or three years, then the apartment at Atwood Park became available. I’m happy enough.’ He pointed Northwards. ‘It’s only half a mile away from the office, so it’s very handy and I’ve got good neighbours. They’re not the nosy sort.’
‘My new neighbours aren’t close enough to be nosy even if they wanted to be,’ said Jess with a little laugh. ‘One of the benefits of living on a farm.’
Bradley nodded. ‘It’s a lovely old building. I met Alice there when we drew up the plans for the trust.’
‘You’ll have to come over for the housewarming,’ said Jess.
‘Ooh, I love a party,’ said Bradley. ‘I’ll look forward to that.’
‘I’ll give you a call at the office,’ replied Jess. ‘Don’t expect a Hollywood party though, there’ll probably only be a handful of people there.’
Bradley screwed up his nose and shook his head. ‘Forget the office, can I give you my personal mobile number? We don’t want my receptionist getting the wrong idea.’
Jess added him as a contact on her phone, then slipped it into her bag. ‘It will be a couple of weeks yet.’ She checked her watch then got to her feet. ‘Thank you for the lovely meal but I’d better get off. Sam will be home from work now. I’m hoping she’ll give me a hand moving my stuff.’
‘If she can’t help, I’m happy to offer my services,’ Bradley volunteered.
Jess smiled. ‘Thank you, that’s very kind, but I’m sure Sam will help. What does my share of the meal come to?’
Bradley looked shocked. ‘It’s my treat. I really enjoyed your company.’
Jess waited at the entrance while Bradley went inside to settle the bill. When he returned, the pair walked back to the car park and stood awkwardly between the two cars. Eventually, Bradley offered his hand.
‘It’s been a pleasure to be of service. If there’s anything else you need from us, any advice on how the trust works… well, you know where we are.’
Jess ignored his proffered hand, leaned forward and gave him a peck on the cheek. ‘I’ll be in touch as soon as I set a date for the housewarming. I’ll know pretty much what I’m going to do to the old place by then. A bathroom upgrade is a must and the sooner I get some new appliances in that kitchen, the better.’
Bradley stood by the open door of the Mercedes as Jess climbed into her litt
le Toyota. She closed the driver’s door, snapped on her seatbelt, dropped the passenger side window and leaned across to give him a wave. ‘Thanks for everything,’ she called.
As Bradley climbed into his car, she put the Toyota into gear, eased her foot off the clutch and pulled away.
Two hours later, with a car full of clothes, a few food supplies and a chilled bottle of Pinot Grigio lifted from Sam’s fridge, Jess pulled onto the asphalt in front of the wide, tubular gates at the side of Mollison’s farm.
Climbing out, she pulled a set of keys from her bag and walked slowly to the front door.
Sam pulled two black plastic bags from the back seat of her own car, and carried them to the front step. ‘Take a deep breath, love. It’s all yours now.’
Jess looked back over her shoulder. ‘I’m okay, Sam, I was just thinking about some of the happier times I spent here,’ she pushed a silver key into the Yale lock. ‘It will always be Nana’s house to me.’
Jess opened the door and taking one of the black bags from Sam she stepped into the hall. She walked by the stairwell, opened the door on the left, flicked the light switch, and walked into the lounge, where her beloved Nana had spent the last year of her life.
‘You know, Sam, the last time I came in here, all I could think about was Nana slumped in her chair, but now, although I can feel her presence, the gloom seems to have lifted.’ She turned slowly, taking in all four corners of the room, the big old clock on the wall that had annoyed Alice so much as it ticked her life away, the hospital bed in the corner with all its gadgets, the sideboard with the new DAB radio that Jess had bought her, perched on top, the lion’s foot coffee table that had held up so many tea trays over the years, the shiny, Marylyn Monroe wall art, and last but not least. Nana’s armchair with the two large, green cushions that she had propped herself up with.
Sam dropped the bag she had carried in onto the floor and turned to get another one from the car.
‘You’ll be wanting to get rid of most of this stuff, I expect. Those armchairs have seen better days.’
The Legacy: Trouble Comes Disguised As Family (Unspoken Book 2) Page 5