Mystery at Oakfield Hall
Irena Nieslony
Chapter 1
Rachel Fisher was flabbergasted. Why on earth had her cousin George Robertson left her his house? They hadn’t spoken or seen each other for years, nor had they parted on good terms. Had he forgiven her for not lending him the money he wanted, or was what was seemingly a generous and kind gesture going to turn out to be completely the opposite?
Rachel didn’t dare look around the room. She could feel the eyes of her other relatives boring into her. The solicitor, Nicholas Fairweather, carried on reading the will regardless of the discontent in the room, but there was little else of substance to be divided out amongst the rest of the family. Rachel wondered momentarily if George had wanted to cause problems between her and her relatives. This could well have been the reason he left her the house.
Strictly speaking, George wasn’t Rachel’s first cousin. He was her mother’s, and he had also stopped speaking to Liz Fisher when Rachel had refused to lend him the money. He carried on ignoring Liz even when she became ill with cancer and had a few months to live, his stubbornness not allowing him to make peace with the cousin he had once cared for.
Rachel’s mind drifted as Nicholas Fairweather carried on speaking. They were in George’s home, Oakfield Hall, which is where George had wanted the will to be read. The house was in bad need of renovation, but Rachel couldn’t help but remember Oakfield from when she had been there as a child. It was a large old property and had been beautiful and well-kept at that time.
George Robertson had been a well-known stage and film actor. He had been rich and always had the best that money could buy. He had been a handsome man, with exciting ideas and he always had a beautiful woman on his arm. Rachel had been plunged into the thrilling world of show business and she remembered meeting many of George’s colleagues. She wanted to follow in his footsteps, a dream which she had achieved. Rachel eventually became a popular television actress who was rarely out of work and for this she always thanked George, despite their estrangement.
Rachel had loved her cousin George in those days and it later pained her to refuse him money, but Rachel was no fool. As George aged, too much alcohol and living the high life damaged his looks and acting parts became few and far between. He still wanted to live the life of the rich and famous and soon got into debt. Before long, Oakfield started to crumble around him.
George asked Rachel for a loan to renovate the house, but both Rachel and her mother were convinced he was going to waste the money. There was nothing that George liked better than sun kissed beaches, cocktails and beautiful women. George had borrowed from Rachel once before, telling her he wanted to have new bathrooms fitted, but this never happened. However, he managed to sweet talk Rachel round that time; after all he was charming and had always been her favorite relative, but she refused to be burnt again, deciding that he wasn’t going to get another penny. This was the last Rachel and Liz saw of George or his brothers, John and Arthur, who both stayed loyal to George, hoping to be mentioned in his will. .
Rachel’s first thought at inheriting the house was that she didn’t want it. However much she had loved it as a child, it was in a terrible state now and needed a great deal of renovation. Yes, she could probably afford it, but did she really want a house in the Buckinghamshire countryside? She loved living in London and was definitely a city girl. Also, in the long term, while she could pay for the renovations, could she really afford to keep two homes running? Oakfield was large and would cost a lot to maintain and it was much too big for her anyway. To begin with, there were eight bedrooms and even more bathrooms.
On top of everything, Rachel didn’t feel entitled to Oakfield. George had never married or had children, but he had his two brothers. It wasn’t important that she didn’t particularly like them. Surely they were the people who should have it, not her?
After the initial shock, Rachel dared to look around the room. She saw that both John and Arthur were glaring at her and so was George’s son, Mark. If looks could kill. she thought. Then Arthur spoke up, interrupting the solicitor.
“We’ll fight this, you know. John and I are his brothers. We should have inherited the house, not her,” he hissed, looking at Nicholas Fairweather, but the tone of his voice obviously directed at Rachel.
‘She’s got enough money,” John added.
“You haven’t let me finish,” Nicholas Fairweather said. “There is more. If Rachel Fisher should die within a year of George’s death, the house will be divided between Arthur Robertson, John Robertson and Sam Nightingale, his cousin. If she lives past this time, she can leave the house to whom she wishes. During the year Rachel has the house, she cannot sell it or pull it down, but she can renovate it or use it as a business.”
“That’s crazy. She could turn it into a theatre and then drop dead,” Arthur spoke. “What would any of us want with a theatre or something like that?”
“She’s not going to die,” Barbara, John’s wife, spoke. “She’s only in her thirties and she looks healthy to me. Best we fight this.”
“I doubt if you’ll win” Nicholas said. “George Robertson was of sound mind when he wrote the will.”
John turned to Rachel and spoke.
“If you had a conscience, missy, you’d give us the house now. I mean, you earn enough money. You don’t need it. And have you any idea what are you going to do with it?”
Rachel said nothing. By now, all her thoughts of giving away the house were slipping away. Why should she let her inheritance go to two money-grabbing elderly men? And what had it got to do with Barbara? Uncle Sam was different however. She had always been close to him and he wouldn’t even want a third of the house.
“You’ll regret you ever inherited this house, young lady,” Arthur said. “And you, Sam,” he said, turning, “Why he’d want you to have part of the house, I don’t know.”
Rachel almost laughed at their condescending attitude; young lady indeed. She was thirty five years old, not fifteen, but George’s brothers still seemed to see her as the shy girl who visited Oakfield Hall many years ago. Well, that girl was gone now and a confident woman had replaced her. If they wanted a fight, she would give them one.
“Well,” Nicholas interrupted. “You all have my card if you need to ask further questions. I’ll be on my way then.”
He got up quickly and grabbed his papers, not wanting to watch the arguments between the relatives. He had seen this sort of thing too many times before and had no doubt that George’s brothers would be in touch with him again in due course despite him telling them it was pointless. What the hell; it was easy money.
When he had gone, Rachel got up to leave. The atmosphere was fraught with tension and she had no desire to continue arguing with her relatives, but Arthur stopped her from leaving
“I think we still have things to discuss, Miss Fisher. I presume that’s what you want to be called, you being a big star and all that.”
Rachel shook her head. Arthur certainly didn’t like her and any feelings of benevolence she ever had towards him had disappeared. Still, she didn’t want to stoop to his level and decided to be polite, if a little distant.
“You may call me Rachel. After all, you were my mother’s cousin.”
“Ah yes, Lizzie. She had ideas above her station as well.”
Rachel was about to protest. She didn’t like anybody saying anything derogatory about her mother. However, a rather handsome and suave blonde haired man interrupted them.
“Are you going to monopolize the most attractive woman in the room, Arthur? There are others of us who’ve been dying to speak to her, you know.”
Rachel turned and was quite struck by the man standing nex
t to her. He must have been around her age, mid-thirties or so. He was tall and tanned and, most of all she was captivated by his smiling eyes. However, he was probably another relative who felt hard done by, although who he was exactly she didn’t know.
“James Parker,” Arthur bellowed.” Stop trying to chat up Rachel. I’m sure you won’t get round her the way you did my brother George.”
Rachel’s ears pricked up. Things were starting to get interesting. There was obviously family discord. It wasn’t only her they disliked. But who was James Parker? His name did sound familiar, but how was he related to her?
“Don’t you remember me Rachel?” James asked, smiling at her and sending a very unexpected shiver down her spine. "Uncle George, as I called him, though we weren’t related at all, fostered me for a while, back in the days when he was living with Aunt Carlotta. You and I used to play together with some of the other kids from the village. I know it was a long time ago.”
They stared into each other’s eyes and Rachel felt another spark of electricity. She was totally surprised with herself now that she knew who he was. After all she had never liked James Parker as a child. He used to be quite horrible to her, but she decided not to bring it up at the moment.
“Yes, yes I do remember you. You were always getting into trouble. I think that’s why George liked you so much. You were so alike.”
“Probably why George left him the only valuable painting in the house,” Barbara interrupted
“They make a right pair,” Arthur put in. “They’ve both taken what should be ours, mine and John’s.”
John had stepped up behind his brother and nodded vigorously and then his wife, Barbara spoke again. Rachel had forgotten how domineering Barbara could be.
“I don’t care what that solicitor said. We can prove that George wasn’t of sound mind. The man was going crazy. He was doing all sorts of dangerous things, like balloon rides and parachuting. A man in his late sixties. Ridiculous.”
“George always lived his life to the full,” Rachel said firmly. “Not to mention the fact that he had cancer. I bet he had a bucket list of all the things he wanted to do before he died.”
A smile crept onto Rachel’s face as she imagined George jumping out of a plane.
“You would say that,” Mark, Arthur’s son, put in. “Mind you, you did let him down, didn’t you; you wouldn’t lend him the money he wanted. Why he left you the house after that betrayal, I don’t know.
Rachel’s smile quickly faded. Yes, everyone was bound to pick up on that and it did look bad, but she still stuck by her decision. George would have frittered the money away. Perhaps if he had rung her when he had been diagnosed with cancer and admitted that he needed money to do certain things before he died, things would have been different, but he hadn’t. Perhaps George had been too proud to ask her for help.
“Furthermore, to go back to George’s state of mind,” Barbara continued, bringing Rachel back to the present. “He kept having raucous parties and inviting all these young women. I mean, a man his age.”
“And how do you know that, Barbara?” Rachel asked.
‘We came over one evening and there they were, half dressed. Disgusting.”
“That probably means they were wearing mini shirts and little tops,” James whispered in Rachel’s ear.
Rachel tried not to smile. She was relieved that at least one person in the room didn’t hate her, even though that person was James Parker, someone who had disliked her immensely as a child. She was still trying to grasp how absolutely gorgeous he had turned out to be and that he was seemingly on her side.
However, not everyone had expressed an opinion about Rachel yet. Joan, Arthur’s wife, was still sitting down and looking very embarrassed. She didn’t seem to want to be there. Rachel wondered if perhaps she didn’t share her husband and son’s feelings about the house. Mark’s wife, Katie also didn’t seem to want to be involved and had gone to sit with Joan. John’s two children, Steven and Sarah looked bored, but Rachel guessed that both were in their teens or early twenties and probably had been brought along under duress. Rachel thought that John must have had his children late in life. He was at least in his early sixties. Rachel momentarily felt sorry for them having Barbara as a mother. She seemed harsh and domineering to say the least.
“Well; I’m happy for Rachel.” Sam Nightingale piped up. “George was very fond of her when she was a child. I think that’s why he left her the house. She always loved it here when she was young, didn’t you darling?”
Rachel looked behind her and saw her uncle, her mother’s only brother. He had such a look of her mother about him that it brought a lump to her throat. She was glad he had come. When she had arrived he hadn’t been there and she had been disappointed, but he had turned up just after the solicitor had started to read the will and sat at the back.
“Yes, I did love this house,” Rachel replied, “particularly when I was little. George would invite other children from the village and we would play together. Hide and seek was the best, especially as there are secret passages. You were good at that game, James.”
James Parker grinned.
“What sentimental nonsense,” Arthur interrupted.
“This sentimental nonsense is the reason George left me the house, not you and your greedy brother,” Rachel said with a cold hard edge to her voice.
“”Well, why didn’t you lend him the money he wanted for the renovations? I’m surprised you didn’t seeing as you supposedly loved this house so much,” Barbara spoke smugly, feeling as if she’d got one up on Rachel.
“Because I had already lent him money to renovate the bathrooms, but he frittered it away instead, while the house disintegrated. I wasn’t going to do it again. By the looks of things, he obviously forgave me.”
“I believe that’s one more thing we have in our favor for contesting the will,” Barbara continued. “George was not a forgiving person and he wouldn’t have forgiven you for not lending him the money. He had obviously forgotten about the whole thing because he was losing his mind and we will prove it. Come on John, children. Time to go.”
John and Steven did as they were told, but Sarah quickly went over to Rachel and whispered in her ear.
“I’m glad you got the house. None of them deserve it. By the way, you're a brilliant actress.”
With that she was gone, leaving Rachel speechless.
“What was that about?” her Uncle Sam asked.
“I think I have a fan.”
“Steven and Sarah are surprisingly nice kids. Don’t know how it happened having parents like John and Barbara! Steven is studying to be a doctor, while Sarah wants to be an actress like you, but Barbara will hear none of it. Of course, she will be eighteen very soon and is determined to leave home. Barbara says she’ll be cut off from the family money if she doesn’t choose a sensible career....”
“Poor girl. There must be something I can do to help her.”
“What, and come up against the evil Barbara?”
“Oh, I’ve met worse, Uncle Sam, much worse.”
“Well. I unfortunately have to go back to work,” James interrupted. “It’s been very pleasant seeing you again, Rachel.”
“Actually, James, I’ve remembered more about you. You were horrible to me as a child. You teased me no end.”
“Boys of ten or eleven can be awful. I’ve grown up now,” he replied with a twinkle in his eye. “As you have.”
He looked Rachel up and down, making her blush. Even though she was wearing a black suit, it fitted her figure perfectly and Rachel did have a perfect figure. Her skirt was above the knee showing her slim long legs to best advantage. She was tall, five foot ten and looked even taller with her high heels, but James didn’t mind as he was six foot one. Her long dark brown wavy hair matched her soft brown eyes and when she smiled, her whole face lit up.
Before James left, he took Rachel’s hand in his and she again found herself trembling. She couldn’t believe he was havi
ng such a profound effect on her. After all, he had been a terror and sometimes she’d hated him when they had been young. He had pulled her pigtails and called her names, but as he had said he had just been a boy. Now he was a man and a particularly gorgeous one at that.
“You’ll be coming to the funeral, won’t you James?” Rachel asked.
“Of course I will. How could I not?” James replied, almost crossly.
However his tone became gentle again.
“Uncle George was the nearest I had to a father, Rachel.”
Rachel smiled sympathetically and rested her hand on his arm, feeling another spark of electricity. She wondered if he was feeling it too, but his eyes weren’t giving any secrets away.
“Well, I must be going too,” Uncle Sam said. “I have a case to hear early this afternoon and I don’t want to get stuck in any traffic.”
Samuel Nightingale was a highly respected High Court Judge.
‘It’s been lovely to see you again, Uncle Sam. I’ll see you at the funeral,” Rachel spoke as all three walked towards their cars.
As Rachel got into hers, she looked back at Oakfield Hall. Yes, it was falling apart now, but she remembered it in its’ former glory and she smiled. It would be like that once more. For the first time that day she was truly happy that it was hers.
* * *
When Rachel got back to her home in London, her two sleek black cats, Macbeth and Hamlet immediately wove themselves around her legs.
“I know what you two want,” she said, picking up Macbeth, the oldest of the pair. “I can see your bowls are empty.”
Rachel opened a cupboard and got out the gourmet brand of cat biscuits they both loved and filled up their bowls. Hamlet deserted her immediately, but Macbeth wanted a final stroke before leaving to start on his lunch.
“Cupboard love, that’s all it is with you, Hamlet,” she laughed. “Mind you, I’ve just realized how hungry I am as well. Breakfast seems ages ago now and so much has happened since then.”
Rachel went to make herself a cheddar and tomato sandwich and poured herself a glass of chardonnay. Taking her lunch into the lounge, she collapsed onto her settee and took a long sip of wine, feeling she needed it after the morning she’d had. It all felt quite unreal; both inheriting cousin George’s house and seeing James Parker again. And what a surprise James had been. She had almost come to hate him as a child, but now.... well she was more than a little confused. He was absolutely gorgeous and so charming, but could she get over the way he had treated her when they had been children?
Mystery at Oakfield Hall Page 1