‘Nana left me the bulk of her assets. There was a bit put aside for a farmworker’s charity, but apart from that, everything else went to me.’
‘Charity… how much?’
‘Ten thousand pounds.’
‘Ten thou… Dear God. My mother must really have hated me. Marjorie and I got a hundred, lousy pounds… BETWEEN US!’
‘I’m sorry about that, Grandma but—’
‘Well, you could do something to ease your guilty conscience,’ spat Martha.
‘I don’t have a guilty conscience, Grandma. It was Nana’s decision.’
‘That doesn’t stop you making things right, does it, young lady?’ Martha’s voice tightened.
Jessica sighed. ‘I couldn’t make it… right, as you call it, even if I wanted to. The assets are all tied up in a Family Trust. I get a yearly cash allowance from it and any maintenance or improvements to the farmhouse will be paid for, but any major decisions on the assets have to be made by the trustees, and I’m only one of three.’
‘Pfft. How much is your… allowance worth?’
‘I’m not going to divulge that, Grandma. I’m surprised you asked.’
Before Martha could reply, Jessica continued.
‘I’ll just say, that while it’s a nice amount, and many families have to live on less, it’s not enough for me to live the life of Riley. I’ll still have to work.’
‘So, sell the farm. Listen, Jessica, I have some wonderful ideas of how we could make a lot of money out of it. We could turn it into apartments, repurpose the barn and—’
‘Nana would spin in her grave if the farm was sold, Grandma. That’s the very reason it was placed into a trust. She loved this place and—’
‘This place? So, you’ve already moved in?’
‘Yes, I moved in last night.’
‘Ha! You couldn’t wait, could you? How long have you been planning this? Whispering in her ear, poisoning her thoughts. You didn’t just get your feet under the table, you crawled underneath it.’
‘Grandma! How could you say such things? You know I wasn’t expecting to be left anything?’
‘And yet, now you have EVERYTHING, you aren’t prepared to share.’
‘I can’t share. I told you, every dec—’
‘The trustees, yes, yes, I heard the excuse, but there has to be a way around it, there always is.’
Jess tried her best to keep her voice at an even tone. ‘There are no ways around it, Grandma. As the solicitor told me, legally, it’s watertight.’
There was a pause. When Martha spoke again, she used a softer tone. ‘Forgive my anger, Jessica. I didn’t mean to speak as I did. I’m just so frustrated by the whole affair. Do you know how much Marjorie and I have to live on? All right, we have a nice house, but I can’t even afford a winter break. I had to cancel the newspapers and the milk delivery to save money. I haven’t had a summer holiday for ten years. That’s hardly fair is it?’
‘I’m sorry about that, Grandma, but I really can’t see how I can help you get onto a plane.’
‘I can see plenty of ways, but… Listen, Jessica, it’s high time the many wounds inflicted on this family, were healed. The feuding should stop. My mother is dead, please don’t just step into her shoes and take up the cudgels. Let’s heal the rift and become a proper family again. Don’t take my mother’s side.’
‘I’ve never been on anyone’s side particularly, Grandma. I was close to Nana, but the reasons for the hostility between you, were hers. Not mine. I’d like to see our family come together as well; I can’t see any reason for bitterness or recriminations. Maybe we should all get together for a night out. I just found a lovely place to eat.’
‘Night out? I see no reason for a celebration.’
‘Just a nice cosy meal, me, you, Aunt Marjorie and Mum. I’m sure we could bury the hatchet once things have been talked over.’
‘Hmm. All right, Jessica. Are you going to arrange it? Let me know where and when. I’ll look forward to seeing whose head the hatchet is buried in.’
‘Grandma!’
Martha let out an exasperated breath. ‘It was a joke, you silly girl. Call me when you’ve organised it all… I can’t afford to contribute, neither can Marjorie and your mother spends every spare penny on booze, so don’t expect anything from her either.’
‘I’ll pay for the meal, Grandma. Don’t worry about that.’
‘Of course, you will. You can afford it now, can’t you?’
‘Goodbye, Grandma.’ Jess hit the red button on her screen to end the call. Grabbing another towel, she began to dry her still dripping hair and marched down the stairs. Looking towards the black and white photograph of Alice that sat next to the DAB radio on the sideboard, she let out an angry snort, then sat down in the armchair opposite the one that Alice used to sit in.
‘Oh, Nana, what have I just done?’
Chapter 11
After dressing, Jess made a bacon sandwich and a mug of strong, barista-style coffee and carried them through to the lounge on a small tray.
‘Curse you, Sam. I’ll have to get a fair bit of exercise to work this lot off.’ Jess bit into the sandwich and searched on her phone for her Internet provider’s number. After booking an appointment for the following Thursday to have TV and broadband installed at the farm and the service to the flat turned off, she took her empty tray back into the huge, old fashioned kitchen. She picked up a pen and notepad from one of the worktops, hoisted herself up onto the big oak table and began to make a list of the things she needed for the upgrade. When the list was complete, she blew out her cheeks and shook her head.
‘It’s a good job you’re paying for all this, Nana,’ she said aloud. ‘I couldn’t afford to do it on my own.’
Jess put the notepad on the table and slid off. Walking through to the parlour, she turned to the right and pushed open the door to the bathroom that Alice had got her local builders to install back in the 1930s.
‘Well, Nana, what shall we do with this?’
She thought it might be easy enough to get it up and running again. A radiator was a must and a new bathroom suite, maybe with an overhead shower, it needn’t be anything flash. She returned to the kitchen, made a few more notes on the pad, then carried it into the lounge where she added a new sofa and a queen-sized bed, both of which she would pay for from her own savings.
‘That will do for now, Nana,’ she said.
She sat on the sofa, pulled out her phone and searched for Robin’s kitchens. After making an appointment with one of their designers for Thursday, she grabbed her bag, pulled on her coat and walked out to her car. Fifteen minutes later, she parked up outside the library where she knew she would get Internet access, and walked inside to check her emails and indulge in a bit of online shopping. There were two emails from the editor of a magazine she wrote occasional articles for and after making a quick decision, she sent off a short reply, accepting both commissions.
After sending out a couple of article queries that she had put on hold when Calvin had turned her world upside down, Jess logged onto Google and searched for a new bed. She considered hanging on for the Black Friday sale, but then she remembered how uncomfortable she had been, tossing and turning on Nana’s lumpy, old mattress, and pulling her credit card from her purse, she entered her personal details onto the website.
Feeling pleased with herself and with excitement building about the upgrades to the old farmhouse, Jess returned to her car. With a shock, she saw that parked next to it was a black BMW. Before she could open the door to her Toyota, Calvin climbed out and with both hands in the air in a gesture of surrender, he walked around the front of Jess’s car coming to a halt about six feet away from her.
‘Jess, it’s so nice to bump into you like this. You’re looking well.’
‘Go away, Calvin. I don’t want to speak to you.’ Jess pressed the button on her key fob to unlock the car.
‘Don’t be like that, Jess. I miss you. I only want to make sure you’
re all right on your own.’
‘I’m fine, Calvin. Now, I’m busy. Goodbye.’ Jess opened the car door, but before she could climb in, Calvin stepped forward and placed his hand on the roof.
‘Jess. Look, I’ll be honest with you. I’m struggling money wise. I don’t have enough coming in to pay the rent or the utility bills.’
Jess stepped behind the open door so there was an obstacle between them. ‘What’s new, Calvin? You hardly ever contributed to the rent or the bills when I was there.’
‘That’s not true, Jess. I helped out when I could.’
‘Helped out? You lived there with me. I can’t ever remember saying that you could stay, rent free. Nana ended up paying your half of the rent every month and all you could do was wish her dead. Well, Calvin. You got your wish, she’s gone, but so has the charity. You’re on your own now. Deal with it.’
‘Jess, please, don’t make me beg.’
‘It wouldn’t make a difference if you did, Calvin.’
Calvin pulled his best sad face.
‘What’s happened to you, Jess? You’ve become so hard. You were never like that.’
‘You happened Calvin. Now, as I said. I’m busy. The rent is paid until the end of the year, that’s when the lease expires. I’ve already contacted the Estate Agents and they’ve agreed to leave it until then before they start looking for a new tenant. You can apply for it if you like and they’ll consider your application, but you’ll need to be in secure employment by then.’
Jess climbed into the car and tried to close the door but Calvin got hold of the handle.
‘Jess, Jess, please. I still love you despite everything. Shall I book a table somewhere nice? We can talk things over in a civilised manner.’
‘No, Calvin, I’m not falling for that.’ She pulled on her seatbelt. ‘I’d only end up paying for the bloody meal anyway.’
‘Jess, help me out, please. Think about what we had. It was glorious at times.’
‘You killed it, Calvin. Any love I felt for you, died when you attacked Sam in the flat. I saw the real Calvin then. Nana warned me about you months before, but I couldn’t see past that bloody smile of yours. She said you’d show your true colours soon and she was right.’
‘That interfering old witch, I’m glad she’s gone, I—’
Jess’s face turned into a mask of anger.
‘Stay away from me, Calvin, and stay away from the farm. I’ve seen you twice, and the third time won’t be lucky, because I’ll call the police and have you arrested for stalking.’
Jess snarled as she pushed at the door, forcing him to step back. In a flash she leaned out, grabbed the inner handle and pulled it shut. Quickly pushing down the lock button, she took a deep breath, inserted the key and switched on the engine. A furious Calvin stood in front of the car in an effort to stop her pulling away. Jess hit the horn repeatedly until the noise attracted the attention of two middle-aged men who were walking back to their own vehicle. Calvin gave Jess the middle finger and stepped aside as the men changed direction and began to walk towards them. Jess dropped the driver’s window, mouthed, ‘thanks’ to her two rescuers, then pulled out of the car park. She was still shaking when she arrived back at the farm.
Chapter 12
Nicola Griffiths groaned as her clock radio clicked over to six o’clock and heralded in the new day by blasting out the Rolling Stones classic, Street Fighting Man. She pulled the pillow over her head and pushed her arm from under the warmth of her quilt, making patting motions with her hand until somehow her fingers found the switch to shut off the alarm.
She closed her eyes and dropped off to sleep again only to be woken by a hammering on her door some ninety minutes later. Pushing the pillow from her head, she sat up and groaned as a bolt of pain flashed behind her eyes. The hammering continued.
‘All right, all right, I’m coming.’
Nicola slid out of bed and holding her head in both hands as if to keep it in place, she shuffled across the bare floorboards of her bedroom towards the window. Tugging the dingy, full length curtain aside she looked down into the street to see Mrs Kaur, owner of the local mini-market, staring angrily up at her.
Nicola cursed, pulled up the sash window and stuck out her head, blinking in the morning sunlight. Her head began to spin and she just managed to shout, ‘I’ll be there in ten minutes,’ before pulling herself back inside and throwing up on the floor.
She dressed quickly, pulling on the same clothes she had worn the day before, then she crossed the landing to the bathroom where she urinated, before standing in front of the aging bathroom cabinet mirror to study the all too familiar, hungover face reflecting back at her.
She shook her head slowly, a pained look on her face that was only partly due to the hangover.
‘Christ, you look older than Mum,’ she croaked. ‘How much did you have last night?’
Nicola half-filled the sink then, taking a deep breath, hung her head over the bowl and splashed the bitterly cold water onto her face and neck before grabbing a towel and rubbing it vigorously against her skin. Leaving the bathroom door open behind her, she walked surprisingly steadily down the stairs to the kitchen. She filled the kettle, then remembering her promise to her employer, she slammed it down on the greasy hob and turned around to see if she could find her coat. She passed the rickety-looking dining table holding last night’s empty, two litre cider bottles, and made her way to the lounge where she found her green Puffer jacket on the floor next to a badly stained sofa. Pulling it on, she patted her pockets to check for her keys, and stepping over the increasing pile of mail on the doormat, let herself out and crossed the street to the mini-mart.
Mrs Kaur checked her watch, then looked up as the tinkle of the bell announced Nicola’s entry. If she had ever looked more disparaging, Nicola couldn’t remember when it was, and there had been plenty of disparaging looks over the six months she had worked at the shop.
‘Your shift starts at seven,’ she remarked coldly.
‘I know, Mrs Kaur. I’m sorry, I had a bad night.’
The shopkeeper shook her head and glanced towards the shelves of beer, wine and cider. ‘From the looks of you it was a very GOOD night.’ She pursed her lips. ‘If you’re late one more time, or, if you arrive at work so hungover that you can’t see keys on the till properly, it will be the last time you do it. Do I make myself clear?’
Nicola nodded. She’d had half a dozen final warnings before, so she wasn’t particularly worried about getting another. Her two predecessors had both been sacked for helping themselves to the cash in the till. Nicola hadn’t stooped to those depths yet, though she had been sorely tempted when her purse was empty during the week before payday. Thankfully, her next-door neighbour, a soft touch called Maggie, worked at Asda and would bring her a selection of food from stock that was about to expire. Nicola always offered to pay when her wages went into the bank at the end of the month, but Maggie would never accept. She was a church going Christian who saw the few pounds she spent on Nicola as an act of charity.
Nicola lowered her head as she walked past her employer, who wafted her hand in front of her face as she went by.
‘For goodness sake, you stink of stale cider.’ She grabbed a packet of extra strong mints and tossed it towards Nicola. ‘Here, don’t go too close to the customers until they’ve had time to work… oh, and ring them into the till. You’re paying for them.’
Nicola took the mints without a word, then walked through to the back of the shop, hung up her coat and pulled on a fading, flower patterned overall with the Kaur’s Mini-Mart logo on the breast. When she re-entered the shop, she found Mrs Kaur sitting on a high stool at the end of the counter. It was going to be a long day.
At one o’clock, Mrs Kaur begrudgingly took charge of the till while Nicola made the short trip home for her lunch break.
As she was crossing the street, Maggie came out of her front door wearing her green, Asda, fleece.
‘Hi,’ she called b
reezily. ‘I’m just off to work, do you need anything bringing home?’
‘You couldn’t do me a massive favour and grab me a couple of two litre bottles of cider, just the cheap Lightning Bolt stuff. I’ve run out and I could do with some to last out the week.’
‘All right, but you will have to pay me for them now. You shouldn’t be spending money on alcohol when you’ve got no food in the cupboard.’ She wagged a friendly warning finger at Nicola.
‘I’ve got food, Maggie. The cider will last me until the weekend and I get paid then. I need to unwind when I get home from work or I don’t sleep.’
Maggie knew that the cider wouldn’t last until midnight, but she smiled anyway and waited until Nicola produced her purse and began to count out the seven pounds, twenty pence the cider would cost. She leaned forward and looked into the tatty, leather purse as Nicola’s fingers searched the torn, satin lining for the stray fifty pence piece she thought was hiding there.
‘Just give me what you’ve got, Nicola. It’s all right, I’ll make up the difference.’
Nicola nodded, gratefully, and turning away, walked the few yards to her front door and let herself in.
She had just taken off her coat and lit the gas under the kettle when her phone rang. She picked up the aging Nokia that Jessica had given her when she had acquired a new one, some years before, and pressed the answer button.
‘Yes.’
‘Hi, Mum, it’s me.’
‘Hello, Jess, this is a surprise, I’ve just this moment got in for my lunch break.’
‘How’s the old slave driver over the road?’ asked Jess with a laugh.
‘She’s the same as always, the miserable so and so, she thinks she controls my whole life. I’m getting fed up with her lectures. If the blooming shop wasn’t so convenient, I’d find a job elsewhere.’
‘That’s why it’s called a convenience store, Mum.’ Jess tried to keep the conversation light hearted.
‘I’ll tell her what I think of her one of these days and just walk away.’
The Legacy: Trouble Comes Disguised As Family (Unspoken Book 2) Page 7