The Black Candle

by Catherine Cookson

  ‘I leave to each of my six grandchildren the sum of five hundred pounds, and to Sam Benson, who has been as my partner and friend for over twenty years, I leave my stonemasonry business, together with the deeds of the stone buildings where we have worked and the farmhouse attached, the whole originally known as Patens Farm, on condition that on his decease he passes the said business and house on to his son, Henry. Included in this are all the implements appertaining to the business, and the money due from customers.’

  When Mr Kemp had spoken of the five hundred pounds left to the grandchildren, there had been no turning of heads, no murmurs. But now came gasps from the two men, and they turned and looked at each other and almost imperceptibly the younger man’s hand went out and gripped his father’s arm.

  Mr Kemp nodded at the two recipients as if expressing his pleasure, too. And now he went on:

  ‘I leave to Joseph Skinner, whom I consider to be my nephew, the sum of two thousand pounds. And now I would like Mr Kemp to read the letter to my wife explaining the reason for my further actions.’

  It was now that Mr Kemp lifted up the other sheet of parchment and, looking towards Bridget, he began:

  ‘My dearest wife,

  ‘There is no need for me to tell you how sorry I am that I’ve had to leave you, and again how sorry I am I have gone against what I know to be your wishes, although they have never actually been voiced. But you know I have always considered that, if everyone had their rights, Joseph, whether illegitimate or legitimate, should have inherited Grove House and the estate. I had hoped that I would have been spared a little longer to witness a new law that is in the offing to the effect that a man born out of wedlock shall have the legal right to inherit. But as I don’t think I shall live to see the time when justice prevails, I am leaving the estate as it stands, the house, all it contains, the farm and the adjoining land, to the man I’ve already said I consider to be my nephew, Joseph Skinner. Please, Bridget, do not be angry with me for this decision. I would never have rested easy if he had been deprived of his right, for we both know that, when my father died and the house became mine, we would have never lived there and I would likely have sold it. But it is Joseph who, over the years has brought it to its present state, and, just as I loved the place, so does he. The other matters appertaining to Joseph, I am sure, will resolve themselves. Have patience, my dearest, dear, Bridget, and know that in due time it will be passed on to his son, and I hope his son, my grandson Malcolm, will be as worthy of it as I consider his father to be.

  ‘I am always and forever, wherever I may be, your devoted husband. Douglas Filmore.’

  There were different sounds and murmurs in the room. Both Bridget and Amy had their heads bent; no-one could see their expressions; but the tears were running down the faces of the three girls, and William had his hand tight across his mouth, while Jonathan was covering his eyes with his hand; only Malcolm sat staring at the bent heads of his mother and grandmother. But Joseph sat in the back seat, staring over the heads of them all. He really couldn’t believe what he had just heard; he felt slightly numb. Strangely, he did not feel elated but he was experiencing a depth of gratitude he could put no name to, and the love for the dead man that was now filling his throat was almost unbearable. He had to get out, get away.

  Rising swiftly, he turned to the door at his side, opened it, then almost blindly groped his way along the passage to the study, and there he dropped down into a leather chair.

  It was his. His. How he was going to keep it hadn’t yet entered his head. Anyway, it was of no consequence at the moment. The only thing he was aware of was that Douglas had gone against Bridget’s wishes, and that must have taken some doing.

  He was sitting holding his head in his hands when the door was thrust open and his family came in, or at least five of them, and the girls, in different ways, said, ‘It’s wonderful, Daddy.’ And they hugged him and he kissed them but said nothing, until William, after biting on his lip, nodded at him, saying, ‘I never thought it would happen, Father.’ And to this Jonathan added, ‘Nor I, because he gave us to understand, I mean, Malcolm, that it was all cut and dried. Apparently he got that from mother. He’s…he’s not very pleased, Father.’

  And now, for the first time, Joseph forced himself to speak: quietly, he said, ‘No, I wouldn’t expect him to be.’

  It was Alice who now put in, ‘And there was that bit that grandpa said about him being worthy of inheriting. Well, as he’s left it to you, Daddy, you could leave it to anybody you liked who was worthy of inheriting.’

  ‘Are you coming straight home now, Daddy?’

  He looked at Kitty and shook his head, saying, ‘Not straight away. I’ve…I’ve got to go to the office; and I have one or two other things to see to.’

  They all stood silent for a moment, their heads moving, until Bertha said, ‘I know who’ll be pleased about this,’ and William, looking at her, said, ‘Who?’

  ‘John, of course, and the staff; won’t they, Daddy?’

  He did not answer, but he thought, Yes, they might. Yes. But then, what would they think when he had to reduce their numbers? Anyway, that was in the future; now he must get to the hospital. ‘Go on and join your mother and grandma,’ he said to them. ‘They’ll both be needing you.’

  As they trooped out of the door he heard Alice say, ‘I can’t understand Grandma.’ And William replied, ‘I can. Oh, yes, I can.’

  Yes, William would understand his grandmother because, in a way, he took after his grandfather.

  He let some minutes elapse before he left the room, and then it was to run straight into Bridget, who must have been making for the study. They stared at each other hard for a moment until Bridget muttered, ‘I’ll never be able to forgive you, Joseph Skinner, for coming between me and my husband. In all our years together he never went against my wishes, never.’

  To this he could have answered, ‘No, no, of course he didn’t; he let you have your own way in everything. He was an easygoing man, and that was the best policy to take; and moreover, he had that inordinate love for you. But you can’t bear that a sense of justice should override it.’

  It was the look on her face, almost of hate, that made him voice his last thoughts: ‘You can’t bear, Bridget, to think that his sense of justice would override your dominance, can you?’ And with that he left her; and as it happened they were the last words they were to exchange.

  As he went from the house Mr Kemp was about to get into his car and he stopped and turned towards him and, when he offered his hand, Joseph took it and it was shaken firmly.

  ‘I’m glad things have turned out as they have for you. You’ve worked for that place if anybody has, much more so, I would say, than any of your ancestors, because it was given to them on a plate. You know what I mean? I couldn’t imagine one of them doing a good day’s work in his life, except, of course, Mr Douglas. But my father, before he died, God rest his soul, told me quite a bit of the history of the house. In fact, he had documents going way back, and very interesting they were too. They’ll be passed on to you when you come to the office, which I would like you to do at your pleasure, but soon. As I said before, you have really worked for that house, but it’s going to take some keeping up, isn’t it? because, as you can gather, Mrs Filmore will no longer be supporting the staff now that Mr Douglas has gone. We’ll have to put our thinking caps on, won’t we?’

  ‘Yes, I suppose we shall, Mr Kemp; and if it’s convenient to you, I’ll look in tomorrow around three.’

  ‘Yes, that will be quite convenient. Well, good day to you, Mr Skinner, or is it going to be Mr Filmore? But we’ll go into that too, I mean about getting your name changed. And, as your uncle said, there is a law in the offing that will give you the right to claim the name. But of course, laws take time to get from the offing and onto the statute books. But it will come, it will come. So, until tomorrow, good day, good day to you.’

  ‘Good day, Mr Kemp; and thank you…’

 
From the drawing-room window, where the shades were still half drawn, Amy watched the men part, Joseph to go to his car and drive off. Malcolm, who was by her side, said, ‘Didn’t you have an inkling of this, Mother?’

  ‘No. No, of course not. I went by what your grandma said. I knew there had been discussion about it with your grandfather, but I understood, as always, he would have acceded to her wishes. Well, you see what happened.’

  ‘Yes, I see what’s happened, and I feel I’ve been let down. This business about being worthy of inheriting. He could leave it to whom he likes if he doesn’t think I’m fit; and so I’ll have to behave myself like a good little boy. God! I shall hate going back to the house.’

  ‘Well, you have no need to, dear, you may stay here.’

  He looked at her sharply. Stay here! With his grandmother in the mournful state she was in and his mother in an equally mournful state? No. And anyway this house wasn’t run like the other one; there was no real scope. He turned from her now, saying, ‘Oh, I’ll have to go back; he’s paying my college fees. I’m under that obligation; but it shouldn’t be an obligation if everybody had their rights. All this talk about rights. But anyway, this has decided me on something. The Barnetts have an uncle in the British Embassy in Paris. That’s where Roger is going when Alice and he marry, and he says his uncle’s got a lot of influence there. Last month, there was a post going for a university man. But then they are always going, they’re always being moved around the place, he says. So that’s where I’ll head for.’

  ‘But you haven’t finished your second year. Why don’t you stay and get your degree?’

  He seemed to be thinking, then said, ‘Well, he mightn’t have the money to keep me there by the sound of things, because Grandma certainly won’t fork out for any of the maintenance, will she? And what’s more, by the sound of her, she wouldn’t give a penny towards my education, because she considers that it’s his duty. And what money have you, Mother? Nothing really, at least not until Grandma dies. Then of course’—he smiled now—‘you will be a very wealthy lady, because she must be rolling in it.’ When she didn’t answer he said, ‘Are you coming back home now?’

  ‘No; I can’t leave Mother. She’s here all alone and she’s really in a very odd state. I know she hasn’t shed a tear since your grandfather died.’

  He drew in a long breath before he said, ‘Well, I suppose things will go on as usual. The wonderful John will rule the roost. He, of course, will be over the moon at the news. Father’s right hand; he takes too much on himself, I think. Anyway, I’ll go and say goodbye to Grandma, and I’ll come down tomorrow again before I leave for Oxford.’ He bent and kissed her cheek, then went out.

  Standing alone in the room, Amy thought. No, her mother hadn’t cried, and she had lost her husband; and she herself had lost a husband, but she wanted to cry, almost scream, and for many reasons, not the least of them being that she was never going to return to that house again.

  Twelve

  It was a fortnight later. Joseph was at home in his office. He was sitting at one side of the desk and John was seated at the other, and Joseph was saying, ‘Well, John, I’ve worked it all out. Now I’ll put it to you plainly. There are eight indoor servants, and three men and a boy in the yard and the garden. I’m not counting the farm, because William gives himself a small wage and sees to his man and the boy there out of the profit from the market. But as I see it, my responsibilities for the wages alone come to about three hundred and seventy pounds a year, that is not counting their insurance, or the buying of the food and the renewing of uniforms. Now to cover that, I would need at least six hundred a year. Up till now that has been met by Mr Filmore. I can see no way of my paying that amount out of what I have in resources. I was left, as I think you know, two thousand by my uncle, and I had less than a thousand saved of my own. The money that comes from the business I have to use for the education of the family. I’ve always seen to that myself, and that will have to go on, and my earnings barely cover it because, as you know, with the exception of William who, as I said, sees to himself, and Alice who is shortly to be married, there are four still to be met: and Jonathan, as far as I can see now, is going to need supporting for some long time. From his present college he hopes to go on to yet another. But we can forget about the needs of the family; it’s the needs of the staff that is forcing me to say what I must, John, and that is, I’ve got to cut down drastically. Anyway, with Kitty and Bertha at boarding school, Alice soon to be gone, Malcolm at college, it leaves only Willie and me in the house. Now, I’ve no need to say to you that seven indoor servants is a little more than is required for two people, even taking in the holidays when the girls come back. So, who is to go and who is to stay? It’s an awful decision and you’ve got to help me in this. Outside, Ron will be pensioned off, the boy will do the yard work, but only one gardener can remain.’

  ‘Sir,’ said John now, ‘it would be impossible for me to say who has to stay and who has to go, because we have been as one family for years; the cook and the girls have practically grown old here, well, if not old, elderly. As for a man getting a post, there seem to be fifty applicants for one job, no matter what kind. As you know, there are men still walking the road from the war, begging even for work that they would have considered degrading before they went to fight for King and country. It is all very sad. But, sir, there’s something I want to tell you. We’ve been expecting something like this, knowing of your circumstances. So, I called a meeting of all the staff a few days ago and there’s one thing they all agreed to: that this was a very large house with fifteen main bedrooms besides the attics, and counting the rooms on the ground floor, and excluding servants’ quarters, and the basement which runs the length of the house, the cellars and the annexe, not counting these, there are thirty-four main rooms altogether and all could be put to use. The idea came through something you said to me a week ago, sir. You said you intended to bring your friend, who will be an invalid, here, and also her mother to look after her. We discussed which room would be appropriate for a bedroom and we decided that the games room could be turned into such because it has French windows leading on to the side terrace and the gardens. Isn’t that so, sir?’

  ‘Yes, John, that is so.’

  ‘Well, then, as I put it to the others, and they all agreed, that what you could do for one invalid you could do for another. It could be a thriving business, sir. And I know of two such in Newcastle which house retired ladies or gentlemen who are past the age of seeing to themselves. In one particular home they have their own room and quite a bit of their own furniture, I understand, around them. I have a friend who is a gardener at Lady Harris’s establishment on the outskirts of Newcastle, and Lady Harris’s father is in such a home and apparently is very happy. I had a talk with my friend about it.’

  Joseph did not speak, but gnawed on his bottom lip for a few seconds; and then he laughed, and when John laughed with him, saying, ‘It could be done, sir,’ Joseph said, ‘Yes, yes indeed, John, it could be done, but…but at the moment I’m amazed at your suggestion. It would never have crossed my mind, and yet it should, because I sold a house last year not half the size of this for exactly the same purpose.’

  ‘Well, what do you say, sir?’

  ‘What do I say, John? What do I say? I just don’t know. The only thing that strikes me at the moment is that it would keep us all together and that we couldn’t lose much by it. There would have to be alterations, I suppose.’

  ‘No, sir, but there would have to be an addition, and that would be a lift up to the first floor. But that could be in an alcove to the side of the stairs where the clothes closet is now. It would be a simple job, sir.’

  Joseph started to laugh again and was about to say something when John put in, ‘If you only had two or three clients, sir, it would cover expenses. And the people who can afford to take up residence in places like this can afford to pay well, and if things improved you could have at least ten bedrooms occupied, even m
ore if you wanted. But as I said, the idea stemmed from you in the first place, sir, and your talking of bringing your friend here. By the way, when will that be, sir?’

  ‘I’m not sure now. I thought it might have been next week, but they are talking about another operation.’

  ‘Will she eventually be able to walk, sir?’

  ‘I’m not sure, John; nor are the doctors. I think this business of operations is just trial and error. But one good thing, she is much brighter in herself and is looking forward to getting out of hospital. So she’ll submit to anything that’s going to happen.’

  ‘We will look forward to her arrival, sir.’

  ‘That is good of you, John. Knowing the circumstances, that is very good, very good of you all.’

  ‘May I be bold enough, sir, to enquire if the mistress has decided to live with her mother?’

  ‘As far as I can gather, John, that’s her decision. Otherwise I wouldn’t have thought about bringing my friend here. And I may tell you now, I’m going to ask my wife for a divorce.’

  ‘I’m sorry, sir…well, what I mean is, that all this had to happen.’

  ‘So am I, John, so am I. But there’s one thing that I’m glad about and that is, in the main…I say, in the main, my family understand the situation; and as I’ve pointed out before, there will be only Willie and I in the house. Well, that’s just as it is at present, isn’t it, as Alice is staying with her mother for the time being and the rest have returned to school. Anyway, you can tell the staff, if we can work out this new plan, things will remain as they were.’