Mystery at Oakfield Hall

by Irena Nieslony

  Then there was that awful codicil to the will. It was an open invitation to John, Arthur or Uncle Sam to kill her. Of course she trusted Uncle Sam implicitly. He had been like a father to her since her own dad had died when she was only five. However, Arthur and John definitely didn’t like her one bit and if they didn’t overturn the will, which they had little chance of doing so according to Nicholas Fairweather, goodness knows what they might get up to.

  Rachel was dying to ring her best friend, Mary, to tell her all about her morning, but she wasn’t sure what shift Mary was on at work. Despite having been in show business since her early twenties and meeting all sorts of exciting and famous people, Rachel hadn’t dropped her friends from school. Although she could be a tough cookie as she often had to be to get on in the entertainment world, Rachel believed that true friends were for life.

  Rachel; and Mary Knight had gone to school together from the age of eleven, but their lives couldn’t have turned out any more different. While Rachel had never married, nor was that bothered about it and certainly didn’t want children, Mary had been married twice, both unfortunately ending in divorce. She’d had one child from the first marriage, Kevin, who was now fifteen and two from the second, Gillian, twelve and Simon, eight. All the children lived with her and she was doing well as a single mum juggling a busy household with working as a midwife. Rachel wondered how she did it. She worked long hours in the TV studios, but she couldn’t imagine doing it with children in tow.

  Rachel decided she would give Mary a ring. After all, she had nothing to lose. If Mary had been on night shift, she would usually pull the plug out of the land line and switch her mobile off.

  The phone rang a couple of times before a sleepy Mary answered.

  “Rachel? I was just about to turn my phones off. I’ve been on nights and was off to bed.”

  “I’m sorry. I wanted to tell you about the will reading, but I can ring back later.”

  “Was that today? I’d completely forgotten. I’m such an airhead! Well, that news has certainly woken me up! Tell me what happened. I’m all ears!”

  “You’ll never guess,” Rachel spoke, getting quite excited now she was able to share the news. “I inherited George’s house.”

  “No! I don’t believe it,” Mary exclaimed. “His brothers must be furious.”

  “They were livid. And so was John’s wife, Barbara. She’s very fierce. However, I wonder if George left it to me because he was fond of me when I was a child or to pay me back for not lending him the money to renovate Oakfield. It’s in a terrible state, but I’m still not sure he would have used the money on the house.”

  “What do you mean, pay you back?”

  “He may have wanted to cause trouble within the family.”

  “I can’t imagine George being so mean.”

  “I can. He didn’t speak to me for years because I didn’t lend him the money.”

  “Well, you may be right. You knew him better than me. Anyway, you’ve got the house now. What are you going to do with it?”

  “I really don’t know. My first thought was to give it to George’s brothers as I believed they should have it.”

  “No, you can’t do that,” interrupted Mary.

  “I changed my mind when they said they were going to contest the will.”

  ”Do you think they have a chance of winning?”

  “The solicitor says not.”

  “Thank goodness for that. You need to do something exciting with Oakfield, Rachel.”

  “Hold your horses. There is a codicil to the will. If I die within the first year, the house goes to the two brothers and Uncle Sam. I can do what I want with it during that year as long as I don’t sell it or pull it down. ”

  “Now I see what you mean about George being mean. Your Uncle Sam’s trustworthy enough, but Arthur and John... well, they could try and kill you off.”

  A shiver ran down Rachel’s spine before she spoke again.

  “Don’t say that – it has crossed my mind,” Rachel said, trying her best to laugh the suggestion off. “Anyway, back to Oakfield, I would love to restore it, but what would I do with it then? I could try and rent it out for a while I suppose, but it is large and I would have to charge a fortune even to break even as it would be expensive to run as well. I know I earn quite a bit, but to keep that and my home here in London might be pushing it”

  “Hmm,” Mary said, contemplating. “You need to turn it into a business.”

  “What sort of business?”

  “Oh, I don’t know... oh, what about a hotel?”

  “A hotel. When would I have the time to run a hotel, Mary?”

  “Well, you’d have to get a manager of course, but you could open it in-between T.V. shows. The house is ideal. I mean, didn’t all the bedrooms have their own bathrooms?”

  “Yes, George did borrow money from me to renovate the bathrooms, but that never happened. Oh no, what if he had the same idea. Perhaps he would really have used the money the second time around to renovate Oakfield and turn it into a hotel. Mary, I could have ruined his plans. Oh dear, I feel awful.”

  “Don’t, Rachel. He didn’t tell you what he wanted the money for. If he really wanted to have a hotel, he should have said. It was more likely that he was going to fritter the money away like before.”

  “Yes, you’re right. He probably still would have spent the money on other things.” Rachel paused for a moment before her mind went back to thoughts of a hotel. “This is beginning to sound like a great idea. I have six weeks off before I start filming again so it will give me a chance to get started on the house. Oh, by the way, guess who was at the will reading today?”

  “Surprise me.”

  “James Parker.”

  “Oh no, is he as horrible as he was back when we were kids?”

  Mary had sometimes gone with Rachel to George’s house and had met James.

  “Far from it. In fact he’s rather gorgeous and not rude at all anymore.”

  “Oh no, you haven’t fallen for him, have you Rachel? I know that tone of voice too well.”

  “I must admit my heart did miss a beat or two.”

  “People don’t change you know.”

  “Oh, I think they can do from when they’re children. I’m certainly willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.”

  “Don’t come crying to me when it all goes wrong.”

  “Don’t be so cynical, Mary. I have a good feeling about this. Anyway, to change the subject, the funeral’s on Thursday. If you’re not working, why don’t you come? You knew George after all.”

  “As if happens, I am free on that day, so alright, I’ll come.”

  “Then you can assess James for yourself.”

  “I’ll try and keep an open mind,” Mary laughed.

  Almost as soon as Rachel put the phone down on Mary, it rang. To Rachel’s surprise, it was Arthur Robertson. Even more surprising, he sounded quite friendly, but Rachel knew better and he soon revealed the true purpose of his phone call.

  ‘Well, George would have wanted his wake to be held in his home, dear,” Arthur said, sounding sickly sweet. “Being the eldest brother, I was going to arrange this, but as the circumstances have changed and you have inherited the house, it seems only right that you organize the wake and provide the food and drinks. I’m sure you won’t mind, will you, dear?”

  Rachel knew Arthur would love it if she blew a fuse. It was a bit much expecting her to arrange this at such short notice, but she wasn’t going to give him the pleasure of hearing her fall apart on the other end of the phone. How hard could it be anyway? The family wasn’t large at all was it?

  “That will be fine,” Rachel replied confidently. “How many people will I be catering for?”

  “Oh, around fifty.”

  Rachel almost dropped the phone. Who on earth were these people? She paused for a moment to get her breath.

  “I didn’t realize we had so many relatives. It will be lovely to meet them all,” Rac
hel spoke, trying not to sound bothered about the number she would have to cater for.

  On the other end of the phone, Arthur was getting agitated. Would nothing faze that woman?

  “George had a lot of friends,” he snapped.

  Rachel smiled to herself, pleased that she was irritating him, not the other way around.

  “In fact it may be difficult for you to do the catering and to go to the funeral as well.”

  “Oh, don’t worry, Arthur, I’ll manage. There’s no way I’d miss George’s funeral, but the food will be ready when everyone gets here. So I’ll see you on Thursday.”

  “Fine,” Arthur snapped again and put the phone down, not happy that things hadn’t gone the way he’d wanted.

  Throughout the call, Rachel’s mind had been working overtime. She was nothing if not efficient. She had friends, Carol and Bill, who were caterers, but they worked mainly at weekend events, plus the odd private dinner during the week, so after a call to them, she had them booked for catering at the wake enabling her to go to the funeral. She’d buy the drinks; wine, beer and soft drinks would suffice, and she and Mary could serve them. Then there was cleaning. She’d do that herself as well. As most of the house was run down, she’d sort out one large room for the wake and make that look nice.

  I’ll go to Oakfield early tomorrow and get started. I’ll stay over so I can make the most of my time and don’t have to rush down on Thursday morning. A quick ring to Gladys to ask her to feed the cats while I’m away and I’m all set. I think that’s one up to me, Arthur, or should I be saying George. I have no idea why you left me this house, but I’m going to make a success of it despite all the obstacles you knew would be standing in my way

  Chapter 2

  Rachel glanced around the church. Nobody in the family seemed to be overly upset by George’s death apart from Joan, Arthur’s wife, who was sobbing quietly. Arthur was doing his best to ignore her and looked quite embarrassed. Barbara’s face was as severe as it had been at the reading of the will and Rachel wasn’t surprised that she hadn’t acknowledged her when she had come in. However, Sarah had smiled at her.

  Rachel had brought her friend. Mary Knight, with her and they sat together. On the other side of Rachel was her Uncle Sam and his son, Tony. Tony was following in his father’s footsteps and was currently working as a barrister.

  Rachel couldn’t help but notice that the other people, presumably George’s friends, seemed to be more distressed by his death than his own family. This certainly didn’t come as a shock after the performance of some of her relatives at the will reading.

  The service was long and she could see that both Arthur and John were becoming restless. The family was Catholic although Rachel doubted if any of them practiced their religion. She knew for a fact that even when she was a child, George hadn’t gone to church. However, although he had lived with a number of women over the years and had never married, his will had stated that he wanted a Catholic service.

  Rachel did like to go to church and when it came time to receive Holy Communion, she was one of the few who went up. Returning to her seat, she caught James’s eye and couldn’t help but smile. To her delight, he smiled back. She hadn’t seen him when she had arrived and had been afraid that he might not turn up after all, but there he was and he looked pleased to see her.

  Rachel felt a little guilty. She certainly shouldn’t be thinking about James in church, but she couldn’t help it. He did look so handsome today with his black suit and that gorgeous mop of blonde hair framing his tanned face. His eyes were still smiling and she couldn’t wait to talk to him again at the wake.

  Stop it, Rachel. she said to herself. Not only are you in church, but you’re at George’s funeral. You should be thinking of him, not James.

  Rachel was also a little cross with herself for being so open about her attraction to James. She didn’t want to be this obvious. Her last partner had hurt her by two timing her and she was determined not to be fooled again. It wasn’t often that anyone got one over Rachel Fisher, but Aidan Fowler was a very clever man as well as a popular and good-looking actor.

  Rachel attempted to clear her mind of all thoughts of Aidan... and James for that matter and concentrate on the funeral, but instead her mind then drifted onto Oakfield. She had become very excited about turning it into a hotel and hadn’t wasted any time. She had already gone down to the town hall and put in a request for planning permission.

  Rachel had felt a thrill of excitement when she had arrived at Oakfield the previous morning. As she drove slowly up the long drive leading to the house, Oakfield still looked as splendid as it always had been. It was only when she got closer that she saw the signs of disintegration. When she went inside, the enormous staircase stood in front of her and she remembered it in its’ former glory. She loved the way it stopped halfway with an enormous window looking out onto the back garden. Then the staircase divided into two, one going left and the other, right, with the upstairs corridor going all round the rest of the house with the eight bedrooms leading off it. More than anything else, she was looking forward to having the staircase renovated.

  After visiting the town hall, Rachel had spent the day cleaning out the large sitting room and the kitchen, plus a downstairs bathroom, ready for the wake. Rachel wasn’t afraid of hard work despite having a cleaner back in London. She only had help as it made more sense as she worked such long hours. However, she could manage by herself if she had to.

  Rachel then cleaned out a bedroom for herself to spend the night in, did the shopping for the drinks and finally collapsed into bed. She was up again bright and early for the caterers to arrive.

  Rachel felt rather smug thinking that Arthur would probably expect her to have made a mess of the wake. However, she was determined to show her relatives how right George was to leave her the house, but then she thought again of the other reason George might have made her his heir and she shivered despite it being a warm day. Perhaps he did leave it to her hoping that one of his brothers or his cousin Sam would kill her for it. Perhaps he had hated her until the end for not lending him the money he wanted. She trusted Uncle Sam, but Arthur and John were greedy and she had never been close to either of them. Rachel shook her head, knowing she couldn’t keep thinking like this.

  No, I’m not thinking straight. They may be nasty and greedy, but they’re not killers. Get a grip, Rachel. This isn’t a T.V. series.

  * * *

  Mary gasped as Rachel drove towards the house after the funeral.

  “I’d forgotten how big it was, and what a long driveway it had. The house still looks amazing.”

  “Until you get up close and you can see that it really needs an overhaul,” Rachel replied.

  “True,” Mary said when they parked up. ”But I can picture it as it once was.”

  Rachel smiled, also remembering what it was like. She was glad to have these few minutes alone with Mary to reminisce about their childhood at Oakfield. They had slipped away from the cemetery a little early so Rachel could be at the house to greet the guests.

  Rachel had found the burial harder than the service in the church. Being Catholics, they all adhered to burial as the approved method of disposing of the body after death, not cremation.

  At the cemetery it suddenly hit Rachel that George had really gone and that she would now never be able to make amends with him. She could feel her eyes welling up with tears, but she pushed them back. Rachel refused to let her family see that she had a vulnerable side. They had decided to go into battle against her and she wanted to be a worthy opponent. Still her parents’ double grave was close by and she felt a stab of guilt. She tried to visit every two to three weeks, but she hadn’t been for a couple of months. Her work schedule had been tight; she had even worked weekends and hadn’t had time to do much apart from work.

  I’ll be at Oakfield so much more so I will be able to visit every week, she promised herself.

  Now she was standing outside Oakfield Hall feeling b
oth excited and a little scared. This was her first event in the house even though she had only had it for two days and she was fully expecting to be criticized for what she had done.

  “Are we going inside?” Mary asked impatiently.

  “Yes, of course. I’ve been daydreaming again. We’d better get ready for the hoards.”

  Almost as soon as she put the key in the door, Carol came to greet her.

  “All the food’s ready and the drinks are in place. It’s all systems go.”

  “Thank you so much, Carol. You and Bill are lifesavers,” Rachel replied, feeling relieved that all was going to plan.

  As she turned back round she saw a few cars coming up the drive. The wake was about to begin.

  * * *

  One hour later Rachel was feeling mentally exhausted. She had exchanged pleasantries with most of George’s friends who had all told her little anecdotes about him. Most of the food had gone, but everybody was still drinking and showed little sign of leaving.

  In-between talking to George’s friends and pouring out the drinks, Rachel hadn’t had any time to speak to either her family or to James. She stole furtive glances at James, but he was working his way round the room, making sure he chatted with everyone. Rachel thought how considerate he was, even though she would rather have had him by her side. Just as she thought she would never get a chance to talk to him, he suddenly crept up behind her and put his arms around her waist. She jumped, not knowing it was him, but then grinned when she turned round, unable to stop a shiver running down her spine. However, wasn’t he being a little too familiar? After all, they had only exchanged a few words on Tuesday. Could it be he felt the same intense attraction towards her as she did for him? Still, it wouldn’t do to make him aware of how much she liked him and Rachel released herself from his hold. However, his deep blue eyes had an extra sparkle in them and they held her eyes for a moment longer than they should.