Jess shook her head. ‘No, it was a private thing. Just one of her little pearls of wisdom.’
Bradley grinned showing off his perfect, white teeth.
‘I’m sure she had many of those to impart. I hope you listened.’
‘Always,’ replied Jess. ‘Especially when she talked about men.’ She smiled mischievously and looked away from him.
After lunch, they took a walk along the river, stopping to watch a pair of swans swimming side by side at the edge of the reed bed.
‘Aren’t they beautiful,’ said Jess. ‘I think it’s lovely that they pair for life. They don’t fall out or treat each other badly like human couples.’
As if listening to their conversation, one of the swans looked towards them and floated a few yards closer.
Bradley pointed to it. ‘You don’t know what she’s thinking though do you. She might still be brooding about him having a late night in the reed beds.’
Jess punched him lightly on the arm and laughed. ‘Or she might be thinking. What a handsome chap my partner is. I can’t wait for mating season.’
Bradley faked shock. ‘Jessica Griffiths!’
‘I’m like my Nana,’ she said. ‘Her best friend used to call her Alice Hussy.’
Bradley laughed again and turned back to the path.
‘You know, Ms Hussy. You really are very good company. I could get used to this.’
He smiled warmly at her then began to walk at a slow pace. Jessica took two quick strides to catch up with him and slipped her arm through his.
‘You’re not bad company yourself,’ she said.
After the riverside walk, they returned to the Alvis and Bradley drove back towards home via the many narrow country lanes and B roads. After a while, Jess remembered about the kitchen quote. She dipped into her bag to pull it out.
‘I’ve taken the liberty of getting a quote for a new kitchen. Make sure you’re sitting down when you read it.’
‘It will be fine, whatever the cost,’ replied Bradley. ‘Maintenance is covered within the trust terms.’
‘Also… I erm… I could do with a bit of my annual allowance if that’s okay? I had to buy a new bed, get the broadband fitted, then there was the sofa and…’
‘I’ll get on to it on Monday morning.’ Bradley flashed her a quick glance then focussed on the road again.
Jess cleared her throat. ‘I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but I’m under pressure from my relatives. They all seem to think there’s a way around the trust terms and conditions. They think I can magic up money from thin air.’
‘There’s no way around it. Regarding pay-outs at least.’
‘What about property,’ said Jess, eagerly. ‘My mother is living in a proper dump; okay, she has her problems, but she deserves better than that. It’s damp, it smells and it costs a fortune to heat.’
‘What do you mean by property? Are you looking for somewhere for her to rent?’
‘Not exactly, rent… She can’t afford a lot. I was hoping to help her.’
‘There are properties in Spinton and one in Gillingham. I can check the leases… hang on… I know for a fact that one of your tenants is leaving in January. She’s an elderly lady and she’s going into a nursing home after Christmas. She’s staying with her family until then, but we can’t really chuck her stuff out onto the street. The lease runs out on the thirty-first of December.’
‘Is it close by? It’s not too grand is it?’
‘It’s a two-bedroom cottage. It used to be leased out to one of the farmworkers. Alice mentioned that her own father had allowed a retired farmhand to live rent free in it for the rest of his life.’
‘That would be Miriam’s father. Miriam was one of my Nana’s best friends. She lived at the farm after her father died.’
‘I’ll certainly look into it for your mum,’ said Bradley. ‘It does carry a market rent, but… well, I suppose it’s your decision what level it is set at. You’re the owner. You won’t get any argument from me.’
Bradley reached out and patted Jess’s hand. ‘Had it been your grandmother, I might have put up more of a fight.’
Jess laughed. ‘And she has such nice things to say about you.’
Back at the farmhouse, Jess invited Bradley in for a coffee. Bradley was reluctant at first. ‘My mother will be worried about the car. It’s a family heirloom and she thinks that it’s her responsibility.’
‘Ten minutes?’ Jess produced her doe eyes. Bradley immediately crumbled.
He waited on the doorstep to allow her to go in first, then closing the front door behind him he followed her through the lounge to the kitchen. Jess handed him the brochure that the Robin’s man had left.
‘That’s what’s costing so much money,’ she said, filling the kettle.
Bradley looked at the brochure, then around the kitchen. ‘Good choice. It will look beautiful,’ he said.
Jess held out her hand towards the huge oak table. ‘Please, sit.’
Bradley pulled out a chair, sat down and ran his hands over the well-worn surface of the table. ‘I’ve sat at boardroom tables smaller than this,’ he said.
‘I bet no one ever gave birth on a boardroom table.’
‘I don’t suppose… hang on. Are you saying...?’
‘Nana gave birth to Martha on that very table,’ said Jess proudly.
‘Why? I mean… what…?’
‘She refused to have the baby on the upstairs bed because her mother had died on it and she didn’t want to pass any bad luck onto a newborn.’
Bradley touched the table again and shook his head.
‘Then, a few hours after Martha was born, she found her father dead in the front room.’
Bradley looked towards the door that connected the two rooms.
‘Oh, my goodness, what a day that was for her.’
‘I know,’ said Jess. ‘She ended up being a single mother, running a hundred-acre farm with all the stresses and strains that go with it. She’d have been a feminist icon in this day and age, but back then, she had to take the baby’s father’s surname, even though she wouldn’t marry him, just to make it look respectable.’
Jess stuck out her chin and her voice cracked with emotion. ‘She built her own business empire on the back of such harrowing circumstances.’
‘I’m not surprised you’re so proud of her. I met her and liked her, as you know. She was a very impressive lady.’
Jess wiped away a tear and tried to swallow the lump that had appeared in her throat.
‘She was, very impressive… and I loved her so much.’
Bradley was on his feet in an instant. He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her tight. Jess dropped her head on his shoulder and soaked it with tears.
‘Everything has happened so quickly,’ he said, ‘you haven’t had chance to properly mourn her.’
‘I don’t really need to mourn her.’ Jess pulled her head from his shoulder and looked into his eyes. ‘She’s here, around me all the time. I just miss her voice, her advice… she had absolute faith in me. I just hope I can manage to live up to it.’
‘You have made an excellent start,’ said Bradley softly. His face inched closer, then, falteringly, his lips touched hers. He pulled away and looked into her glistening tear-filled eyes, then his lips found hers again.
Ten minutes later, Jess followed him out to the Alvis. Bradley turned as he reached the bonnet of the old motor and blew her a kiss.
‘Here’s looking at you, kid. Isn’t that what they said in the gangster movies?’
‘Something like that,’ Jess replied. She gave a wiggle of her fingers.
‘I’ll call you on Monday, straight after I release the annual funds into your bank account,’ he said.
As he turned towards the car he stopped dead, a look of horror spread across his face.
‘Whatever is the matter?’ Jess took a few steps forward to see what had shocked Bradley so much.
Cut into the shiny, black paintwor
k, running the full length of the beautiful, ninety-year-old car, was an ugly, jagged, key scratch.
Chapter 20
‘My mother will go ballistic.’ Bradley ran his hand along the scratch.
Jessica looked up and down the lane. ‘Who would even think about doing such a terrible thing to something so old and beautiful?’
‘I can’t understand it either,’ said Bradley. ‘And, where did he… I’m assuming it’s a he, come from? We only left it alone for twenty minutes. I can’t remember seeing another car on the lane when we pulled up.’
‘Will it be expensive to fix?’ asked Jess.
‘It won’t be cheap. I really don’t know if you can still get the matching paint. This stuff is enamel, I think.’ He ran his hand along the side of the car again. ‘Ninety years without so much as a stone chip and then someone does this.’
‘I feel guilty now,’ said Jess. ‘If there’s anything I can do to help. I’ll contribute to the repair costs.’
Bradley looked up from the car. ‘You really are very kind, but the fault is all mine. We only take her out to car shows or the odd run in the London to Brighton rally. I think I was trying to impress you, what with Alice’s connection to the car and everything.’
Jessica bit her tongue. The connection was stronger than he knew. Especially her connection to the back seat.
‘I’ll slip it into the garage while my mother is out. She’s got one of her charity things today. I can hopefully get it to a specialist before she notices,’ Bradley said as he opened the driver’s door.
‘She can’t blame you for this, surely? It’s just the work of a mean-minded vandal after all.’
Bradley pulled a face. ‘She did ask why I needed to use the Alvis. I told her I just fancied a spin in it.’
‘She doesn’t know you were meeting me then?’
‘No, I, erm, didn’t mention you. It would only have led to an inquisition. Mothers want to know every detail, don’t they? Next thing she’d be checking my Facebook and Twitter feeds. She’s a little over protective, especially since my first marriage went sour.’
‘You’d better not tell her I was with you at the time, then. I don’t want her poking about in my social media.’ Jess laughed, trying to make light of the revelation.
‘She’d check you out, that’s for certain.’ Bradley joined in the laughter half-heartedly. ‘I’ll just refer to you as a client for now. I think it’s best.’
‘For now?’ Jessica walked to the side of the car and put her hand on Bradley’s arm. ‘You want to see me again then, even after this?’
‘If you’re willing.’ Bradley gave a half smile. ‘I’m sorry I was a bit off when I saw the damage. It’s my mother… you don’t know her.’ Bradley looked as though he was dreading the encounter.
‘I’m sure you can win her around. Use that lovely smile of yours. You could melt the hardest of hearts with that.’ Jessica leaned forward and brushed her lips against his. ‘I’ll look forward to our phone conversation on Monday.’
‘Phone con… Oh, right. Your annual allowance. I’ll get straight onto that first thing. It should only take a couple of minutes. I only have to get Simon’s signature to process the release of funds. Simon is one of the practice partners and the other trustee.’
‘Thanks for sorting it so quickly,’ replied Jess. She backed away and he pulled the door shut before starting the engine and reversing out into the lane.
As Jess watched him drive away a waving hand appeared out of the driver’s window.
Jess returned to the kitchen and put the kettle on feeling a mixture of excitement and sadness. She didn’t like the sound of Bradley’s mother, but she was used to dealing with forthright women. Nana had been a very strong woman in thought and deed, but she had always allowed Jess to live her life without too much interference. Martha, on the other hand, was a control freak and would have liked to have had a far bigger say in her upbringing. She touched her lips and remembered the almost electric sensation she had felt when they came in contact with Bradley’s.
‘What do you think, Nana?’ she said softly. ‘I really like him. I hope he isn’t overly influenced by his mother like Calvin was. I hope I haven’t found another mummy’s boy.’
As if in reply, a loud gurgling sound came from of the sink. Jess laughed. ‘What was that, Nana? I didn’t quite catch it.’
After coffee, Jess settled down at the big oak table with her notebook, pen and Alice’s 1939 memoir. She opened her notebook and made a new heading.
Autumn 1939.
Jess sat with pen poised as she began to read.
September 1939
The weather had been kind to us throughout September allowing us to finish the harvest early. Also, during September, the government issued a directive, demanding that all men aged between 18 and 41 must register for National Service, meaning everyone in that age bracket would be liable for conscription. Later in September the National Register was compiled, preparing the way for ration books to be issued.
My workers were exempt from military duties, farming being classed as a reserved occupation, but it didn’t stop the youngest, Benny, George, Tommy and Harry from signing up. I admit that I used every trick in the book to stop them from registering, even trying emotional blackmail on Benny who had only been married for a few months and his new wife was expecting. It wasn’t solely for commercial reasons; I genuinely classed my workforce as members of my extended family. I cared about them and I would have been heartbroken had anything happened to them.
We said our goodbyes the day after the farm’s harvest party. Barney, my stoic foreman, a man who could be guaranteed to keep his emotions in check, made a speech that my father would have been proud of and speaking in a brittle voice, wished them all the luck in the world and a speedy return home.
I gave each one a big hug, whispered ‘stay safe, please come back to us’ and handed them each a brown packet containing two, pound notes, to see them through their first few weeks training. Two pounds was a week’s wage and I hoped it would allow them to buy beer in the NAAFI to help lift their spirits after a hard day spent learning how to kill the enemy. As it happens, I found out a week later that all of the young men gave the money to their wives or mothers.
I spent the rest of that afternoon in the kitchen with Martha on my lap, praying to any deity who happened to be listening, to spare my boys and send them home safely.
That evening, Miriam’s man friend, Michael, telephoned. It was an emotional call telling Miriam he had to see her urgently. Miriam, thinking that her beau was about to ask her to marry him at last, rushed out of the house without changing out of her work clothes or even brushing her hair. She returned an hour later, in tears.
‘Miriam?’ I got up from the kitchen table and held out my arms to her as she came through the door.
‘He… we... Look, he doesn’t want to marry me; he’s still being loyal to his dead wife. He was just upset because both his sons signed up to fight and they left for training today, just like our lads.’
‘Oh, Miriam, I’m so sorry,’ I said inadequately.
‘We’ll never be married,’ she sniffed as she took off her coat. ‘If anything happens to those boys…’
‘Your son has signed up too, Miriam. You have something more to share now. Concern for your children, it might bring you even closer together.’
‘Do you think it will, Alice? I’m not so sure. He feels guilty for seeing me as it is, he thinks his wife disapproves of us, somehow. If anything should happen to Michael junior, or David, he might begin to think it’s a curse sent down from above.’
‘Their mother would never do that. If she is capable of anything, surely it will be a protecting influence?’
‘Oh, I do hope so, Alice. I hope my old dad is watching over my Dennis, too.’
I gave her another hug and a kiss on the cheek. ‘He will be, Miriam. He will be.’
That night, I lay in bed thinking about all the mothers in the town that we
re about to say goodbye to their sons. For many of them it would be the last word they ever shared. I pictured Benny’s pregnant young wife standing on the doorstep receiving the dreaded telegram informing her that her beloved new husband had been killed or was missing in action. I imagined Tommy’s mother dropping to her knees. She wasn’t the strongest of women. Like my own mother, she had had a terrible time in childbirth. The trauma she had endured had affected her mentally and she suffered regular periods of depression, some of which had seen her taken into the psychiatric hospital at Gillingham.
At three in the morning, I got up to make tea, sleep was never going to come. As I stepped into the kitchen, I found Miriam already there. Noticing my red eyes, she gave me a sad smile and picked up the teapot.
‘Come on, love. I’ve made a nice cup of tea, that will make you feel better.’
Tea was Miriam’s cure-all. She was convinced it was a quick fix for most emotional difficulties. That night it worked, although I think it was more her company and her warm arms around me that scared away my demons.
My birthday fell on a Saturday and as that was a regular night out with my best friend Amy, we decided to stick to our usual routine and spend the evening at the pictures, ending up in the Old Bull for the last hour.
The film was Goodbye Mr Chips with Greer Garson and Robert Donat. Many tears fell during the screening. Especially when Mr Chip’s wife and baby died. I was still wiping my eyes when we left the cinema and crossed the road to buy fish and chips before the bus came.
We sat on a low wall opposite the bus stop as we ate our supper. Amy chatting away whilst blowing on a chip to cool it.
‘So, Alice Hussy, have you seen anything of your Gangster Lawyer since I saw you last?’
I had just stuffed a couple of chips in my mouth, so she had to wait for an answer while I panted like a racing greyhound to try to stop the blisteringly hot food burning my tongue. Eventually, I managed to swallow them whole.
‘No, I haven’t seen him since you last asked on Thursday evening.’ Amy had been down to visit after work.
‘He’s going off you, I can tell.’
‘He does have a wife and kids, remember?’
The Legacy: Trouble Comes Disguised As Family (Unspoken Book 2) Page 13