by Valerie Tate
“And how old are you?”
“Thirty-three.”
“Thirty-three? Hmph! It seems to me young man that if you want to get ahead in this world, you’d be better off back in Toronto, not burying yourself here.”
“You sound like all my fast-track friends. I’ll tell you what I told them. There are many ways of ‘getting ahead’, Mrs. Dunbar. I had the rat-race of Bay Street for eight years. It wasn’t for me. I only stuck it out that long for my parents - they were so proud of their ‘wonder-boy’. But in the end you have to live the life you want and I couldn’t see spending the rest of mine somewhere I hated doing a job that left me daily more cynical. I learned a lot in those eight years. Much of what I learned about people and the ways of the world I’d like to be able to forget.” He looked her in the eyes and added firmly, “I wasn’t running away or hiding when I came here. I wanted a cleaner life, air that I could really breathe, and space. I mean to buy a house, when I find the right one, marry a nice girl, when I find the right one, and raise some kids. I’ll never be rich or powerful. I’ll never decide the fate of people or nations. And that’s just fine with me!” He took a deep breath, feeling a little foolish, but he was tired of having to justify his decision in leaving a top, multi-faceted law firm and the high-powered lifestyle that went with it, for a country practice in a small, farming community.
She met his look steadily and he had a strange feeling that his future was being decided in that look. After a further moment of scrutiny, she nodded.
“Well, as I said, I think you’ll do. For that matter, you’ll have to, since David Jukes is a nincompoop and I never could abide the sight of that Conroy fellow.”
He smothered a smile and looked at her expectantly. Such was the force of her personality that it was then, for the first time, he realized she was ill. The roses in her cheeks owed more to art than nature. The eyes were as bright and as sharp as those of a much younger woman, but there was pain in them, and a pinched look to nose and temple that showed the strain this meeting put her under.
As if she read his thoughts, she went on quite matter-of-factly. “Mr. Mallory, I’m dying. No, don’t say anything kind or soothing. There’s nothing to say. Facts are facts. It’s my heart. I need surgery but the doctors feel I wouldn’t survive it. There is nothing more that can be done. I can’t say that I mind. I’m eighty seven and I’ve had a full life. I married a man I adored and we raised two fine sons. Our oldest, Robert junior was killed in an automobile accident which James, fortunately, survived. Well, my husband’s been dead for over twenty years now. My brother and sister and all of my old friends are gone too, anyone who remembered me when I was young, the person who I was then and still am in my mind, not the stranger I see in the mirror.” She sighed. “Old age isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, Mr. Mallory.” Then she straightened and looked at him sharply. “You’re too young for me to keep calling you Mr. Mallory. What’s your first name?”
“Chris,” he said, smiling.
“Hmph! Well, Christopher, before I go I want to change my will.”
“That’s easily arranged,” he assured her. “If you will just tell me what changes you want made I’ll have them processed and ...”
“NO! That’s just what I don’t want! This must be done immediately, in the utmost secrecy. I don’t want one word of what I’m doing to get back to my family. Do you understand? I’ve written my own will and have arranged for Wilf Mitchell and another old servant to be here this afternoon to witness my signature. Both can be relied upon completely. Wilf is the least communicative person I know and Celia understands why secrecy is absolutely essential. Also, my doctor, Raymond Harris, will be here to sign an affidavit attesting to my mental competence. What I want you for is to check the will over, add any necessary legal language and then notarize it. I don’t want them breaking it once I’m gone. I’ve arranged for all of them to be out this afternoon so that they’ll know nothing of your visit. You and I are the only ones who can know what’s in it.” One crippled hand clutched his arm convulsively, and he wondered what was so shocking about her will that she should go to such lengths to ensure her family would know nothing about it. Little did he imagine.
“You might as well know right now, Christopher, there’s little love lost between my family and myself. Oh, they make up to me all right, especially that Alice. It’s ‘Mother, dear,’ this and ‘Mother, dear,’ that. But I know it’s just because of the money. My husband, Robert left everything to me. He was ten years older than myself and already a wealthy man when I married him.
“Do you know anything of the history of this town, Christopher?” He nodded and she continued. “Then you’ll know that it was built on two things: the harbor and lumber. The harbor meant that the Great Lakes ships could dock. That meant access to markets in the rest of the country and the US. Lumber meant jobs and ultimately wealth for this area. At one time there was a mill and two large furniture companies in this town. The Dunbars owned the mill and one of the furniture companies. They owned the ships that took their products to market. Robert’s grandfather built the company into a well-respected firm and Robert’s father continued to develop it when he inherited it. He was the one who had this house built. The finest one in the area. When Robert inherited the company, he sold the mill. The ships were long gone by then. He turned the furniture company into one of the largest in the country.”
Chris nodded. Not only had it been one of the largest, but also one of the finest as well, renowned for fine quality and craftsmanship.
“What’s more, he had a flair for finance. He didn’t believe in putting all of his eggs in one basket. ‘Diversify,’ he used to say, ‘Make your money work for you.’ He bought early into companies such as I.B.M. If he hadn’t died so suddenly I’m sure he’d have been one of the wealthiest men in the country by now. And Robert junior was just like him. Top marks in school, athlete, popular. He had it all. Robert had always planned on turning the business over to him, but it wasn’t to be. With Robert junior gone that left only James.” She sat for a moment, eyes distant, remembering.
“James runs the company now, does he not?” he asked gently.
She started, then snorted. “Runs it into the ground’s more like it. He has no drive, no ambition. It’s not his fault, though. He was a man, once, before that woman got hold of him. I knew the minute I saw her she was wrong for him. But James was smitten. She was a beauty all right, I’ve got to give her that. Big blue eyes and a pile of golden hair. They made a handsome couple. Alicia, my grand-daughter, has her mother’s hair, but those blue-green eyes, they’re her grandfather’s. It gives me a turn every time I look at her. It’s too bad she didn’t get a little of his spunk, too. She had plenty of it when she was a youngster, always in some scrape or another, but lately I’ve begun to wonder if the girl’s all there. She’s bright enough. She took her degree in English Literature and Theater at Guelph University, but then her mother wanted her home and home she came. At least she was educated, though, I saw to that. My daughter-in-law wanted to send her to one of those fancy schools in Europe and then give her a ‘season’ in London or New York, but I’d have none of that nonsense, and since I hold the purse strings there was nothing she could do about it. She might be able to manage my son, but not me!”
He could see she was tiring and so he said, “Mrs. Dunbar, you don’t need to tell me all this ...”
“Oh, yes, I do. You’ve got to know all this if you’re going to be able to do what I want. Now, where was I? Oh, yes, Alice and James. James was always a gentle man, and he really loved that woman, so gradually she alienated him from me. While I was still able to get around, I let them go their way and I went mine. But once I was confined to this chair, I moved up here to be away from them. I put in that lift, though, just to be able to keep an eye on what they were doing.”
She winked mischievously and was about to go on when there was a scrabble of claws on the vine growing up the side of the house and an enormous or
ange cat leapt in through the open window. He darted across the floor and then, surprisingly, climbed very gently into the old lady’s lap and made himself comfortable.
Seeing Chris’ expression, the lady chuckled and announced, “Mr. Christopher Mallory, I’d like you to meet Marmalade. Marmalade, say hello to Christopher.” The cat opened one large green eye, looked at him for a moment, then, yawning, dismissed him as of no consequence.
“Marmalade, I gather, is your cat.”
“Well, actually, you might say that I’m his person. He climbed in that window one day five years ago when he was just a kitten and made himself at home.” She stroked the sleek head. “We hit it off right from the start. I can’t say the same for the others, though. He detested Alice from the moment he first laid eyes on her and he never sees her now but that he spits. For James he has only contempt and he treats Alicia with an affectionate tolerance. Since that is precisely how I feel about them, we get along swimmingly. He’s the only friend I’ve got now and I’m glad to see he doesn’t dislike you.”
“He doesn’t seem to have much use for me either,” Chris remarked dubiously.
“I’m hoping that will change once he gets to know you. It would be quite awkward otherwise because, you see, once I’m gone, Marmalade will be your client.”
She waited for the impact of what she’d said to sink in, watching him with impish eyes. Chris could see by her satisfied, Cheshire cat grin that he hadn’t disappointed her.
“Do you mean to tell me that you’re leaving part of your estate to that cat?” he asked, astonished, rapidly reassessing his impressions of the old lady.
“Not part of it, Christopher, all of it! And I want you to manage the estate for him. Act as his trustee.” She was clearly enjoying his amazement.
“But ... why?”
“I’ve told you why. They’ve been waiting like vultures for the day I die so they can get their hands on my money. Once they have, they’re going to sell my house to a developer, shut down the furniture factory and move to Toronto. It’s all that Alice’s idea and I won’t have it! One of the reasons I’ve kept such a tight rein on the finances is because I knew they’d squander it. I won’t see the things my husband spent a lifetime building destroyed by that woman!”
Her angry excitement woke the cat who mewed reproachfully, sprang to the floor and dashed off down the stairs.
In a calmer tone she went on. “I know you’re thinking, I’m a vindictive old woman, and to a certain extent I suppose I am. But I still can’t help feeling there’s some hope for my son and grand-daughter, if not for my daughter-in-law, and giving them the money isn’t going to help them. I know James’ company is in trouble, and has been for some time, but I’ve refused to bail him out. I’ve been hoping and praying that he’d find his own solution and save it himself, become the man his father and I knew he could be. As for Alicia, somebody’s got to snap her out of that somnambulist state she goes around in. She’s sleepwalking through life, living in some imaginary world. Once she had dreams and ambition but then something happened that last year of college - she never would say what. She just came home when her mother called, a shadow of herself. And a shadow she’s remained. Plenty of young men have tried to break down the wall she’s built around herself, but none has succeeded. If I were to leave the money to her she’d simply use it as a cocoon, except that pretty butterfly would never come out. I want my grand-daughter to become the woman I saw her becoming before that last year at school - a strong, confident, determined woman with a kind heart and an impish sense of humor. So I’ve found a way to put all their noses out of joint and, perhaps, help them at the same time. Now you know enough about us to get started. You can make your own evaluation once you’ve met them. After all, as Marmalade’s trustee, a great deal of what happens will be up to you. So you see, you were wrong when you said you’d never decide the fate of people’s lives. You’ll have to use your own judgment in many ways. My only stipulation, other than what is in the will, is that you hold the reins firmly. And don’t be bamboozled. Remember, things, and people, aren’t always what they appear to be.”
Chapter 3
There was a stunned silence when he finished the reading, and then all hell broke loose - hell in the person of Alice Dunbar. She looked like a woman whose girdle had just shrunk two sizes. ‘Do women still wear girdles?’ he wondered incongruously.
“The cat! She left it to that damned cat! All those years of waiting on her, putting up with her temper, her open contempt, and then she leaves it to the cat!” The Ice Queen had shattered.
Chris let her continue, knowing it was futile to try and stop her before she’d run down. While she ranted on, he took the opportunity to watch the others’ reactions. James looked quite grey, probably thinking he’d just seen his last hope to save the company go up in … kitty litter?
Chris smiled wryly at the thought and turned to Alicia. If she was upset by the contents of the will, she didn’t show it. She sat quietly, as before, just staring at Marmalade. Surprisingly, there was laughter in her eyes, as if she were enjoying her grandmother’s final joke.
If Chris had had doubts before about accepting this job and the awkward position it put him in, he was just beginning to realize exactly what he’d gotten himself into. Trustee to a cat! Perhaps the joke was really on him.
“And we’re still tied to that great, Victorian mausoleum.” Alice’s tirade broke in on his thoughts.
“There’s no clause in the will that says you must stay, Mrs. Dunbar,” he said benignly. “That was merely an option to ensure your financial security. Should you wish to leave the house, a companion will be found for Marmalade. You realize, of course, that should you leave, any allowance would cease.”
“And just what are we supposed to live on?”
“I believe Mr. Dunbar draws a salary from the company as well as a percentage of the profits,” he reminded her.
“Salary, hmph!” She sniffed scornfully. “He draws a subsistence salary, and there hasn’t been a profit in years. No, she’s got us and she knew it. Well, we’ll just have to contest it. I’m sure no judge in his right mind will uphold it. The old witch must have been completely out of her mind when she made that will.”
Before Chris could reply, James spoke up. “No, we won’t contest it,” he said gently but firmly. “It was hers to give and she did, to perhaps the only one who never failed her,” he added sadly. The grey look was gone, and in its place was a kind of hopeless resignation.
“Not contest it? Don’t be a fool, James, of course we’ll contest it.” She shook her head in exasperation.
“You’re free to try, of course, but it will be a long, costly procedure and in the long run I’m afraid it will do no good,” Chris told her. “The will is legal. I will testify to her competence, as will her physician. Certainly the terms of the will are eccentric but they are not without precedent, and as your husband has said, she was free to leave her estate to whomever she pleased. She could have left it directly to charity, but that would not have ensured the well-being of her pet. This way, her pet’s taken care of for as long as he lives, after which the estate reverts to a family member, intact and possibly, with careful management, in even better financial shape than it’s in now. In the mean time, you have been provided for and, I might say, generously provided for. You can try to get the will overturned but I’m sure the court will uphold it.”
“Well, of course, you would say that.” She looked at him contemptuously, then stood up and moved purposefully towards the door. “Come, James, Alicia. Good-bye, Mr. Mallory. We’ll be seeing you, in court.”
James hurried to open the door, while Alicia followed behind, stopping briefly to scratch the cat behind the ear and smile apologetically at Chris.
“Mrs. Dunbar, we have a great deal more to discuss.”
She paused impatiently at the door.
“Arrangements must be made for Marmalade, and a schedule set up for my visits.” He spoke with determina
tion, trying to keep the irritation he felt out of his voice. “Now, like it or not, until a court rules otherwise, Marmalade is the legal heir and thus the owner of the house in which you are living.” He could sense another tirade about to begin and hurried on. “Unless arrangements for his care are made to my satisfaction, I’m afraid that, as his trustee, I cannot permit you to remain in the house.”
She stared at him furiously for a moment, but said merely, “Very well.”
“Good. Now if the three of you will sit down again, I have what I feel will be a workable routine.”
Basically, the arrangements consisted of a regular weekly visit by Chris, for at least the first couple of months, to see how things were going and to ensure Marmalade’s well-being. It was decided these visits would take place Sunday evenings, making him a regular dinner guest and putting the supervisory visit on a more friendly and informal footing. As well, he would conduct unscheduled visits from time to time. He would also be available any time the Dunbars needed him, should a problem arise.
Marmalade was to have the run of the house and its contents, placing restrictions on only those actions which endangered items of value. At all times he was to be treated as the owner of the house. Chris had a hard time getting Alice to swallow that one.
Chris would pay all household bills, other than personal expenses, and any changes or capital expenditures were to be approved by him in advance.
It was with a sense of great relief that Chris watched Mrs. Dunbar finally flounce out of his office, her husband and daughter following. He sank gratefully into his chair and turned to regard his four-footed client. The large green eyes were watching him intently, while the fluffy orange tail swished lazily back and forth across the desk.
“Well, my friend, what do you think of all this?”
The cat yawned widely and looked at Chris quizzically.
“It is a bit much to take in all at once, I’ll admit, but I’m sure you’ll get used to it. And I don’t think you’ll have much trouble with Alice Dunbar. She’s an intelligent woman. Once she accepts the fact that there’s nothing she can do about the will, I’m sure she’ll realize that her position is really quite a good one.”