Mystery at Oakfield Hall

by Irena Nieslony

  “I thought I wouldn’t get a chance to talk to you today, Rachel,” James said. “You’re doing a great job, but I haven’t been able to get near you.”

  “I’m sorry,” she replied. “George’s friends wanted to thank me for holding the wake and then they all reminisced a little about him. You looked pretty busy yourself chatting to them.”

  “I do know some of them from when I lived here. They were a bit surprised how I’d turned out.”

  “I bet they were. You’re a different person now from when you were a child, James.”

  “As long as you think so, Rachel, that’s all that matters,” James spoke more seriously before continuing in his usual light-hearted manner. “A lot of George’s friends are quite taken by you. Mind you, who wouldn’t be? You’re both a brilliant actress and the most gorgeous woman in the room.”

  Rachel smiled at James, but she was certain she was blushing as well. This was not what she had planned, not so soon after Aidan. James was sweeping her off her feet and she needed to keep them firmly placed on the ground.

  However, just as she had thought of something witty and clever to say to James, Arthur chose that inopportune moment to come and speak to her.

  “At last, you’re free to talk.”

  “What am I?” James remarked. “Invisible?”

  Arthur looked at him in disdain and then ignored him.

  “The food was good, Rachel,” Arthur said. “But of course you did use caterers.”

  “As you said, Arthur,” Rachel replied, not looking at all flustered. “It would have been difficult for me to go to the funeral and do the catering. I have friends who run a catering business so I asked them to do the food. Luckily they were free.”

  “I presume you employed cleaners as well?” Arthur asked.

  ‘No, of course not. I had plenty of time to do that myself.”

  “We’re not giving up on challenging the will,” Barbara interrupted.

  She had been hovering behind Arthur and listening to the conversation.

  “So don’t get too settled here,” she continued.

  Rachel had no interest in continuing another conversation with her family about this so she excused herself.

  “Well, we'll see, Barbara,” Rachel said. “Nicholas Fairweather seems to think differently. If you’ll excuse me for a moment, I must pop upstairs. I won’t be long.”

  With that, Rachel left the room quickly and went to her bedroom. Apart from wanting to get away from Arthur and Barbara, she also needed to freshen up. It had been a long morning on a particularly warm day and she didn’t feel as if she was the most gorgeous woman in the room as James had said. She knew she had to play it a little cooler than she had been with James, but nobody could deny that he was a particularly good looking man and there was nothing wrong with her looking her best for him. .

  After about ten minutes, Rachel felt ready to face the world – and James - again. She had completely redone her make-up; put on a little more hairspray and a dab of perfume behind her ears and on her wrists. As she walked down the enormous staircase, Rachel imagined women centuries before walking down these very stairs in their long ball gowns. Then suddenly she started falling down the stairs. She let out a scream, but it was too late for anyone to help her, not that it was easy for them to hear her in the sitting room. She went tumbling down and then all was black.

  * * *

  A couple of hours later Rachel began to slowly wake up. The room seemed unfamiliar and for a few moments she couldn’t remember anything. Where was she and why was her head hurting and her body aching? As her eyes began to focus, she saw her Uncle Sam, Mary and James sitting around her bedside. She tried to sit up, but it caused her too much pain. All of a sudden she remembered falling down the stairs at Oakfield.

  “Rachel, don’t try and sit up,” Sam said. “You’ve had a nasty fall down the stairs. You need to rest.”

  ‘I’m so glad you’re alright,” James exclaimed, jumping up. “I’ve been thinking all sorts of awful things sitting here, willing you to wake up.”

  “Me too,” added Mary, who had also stood up.

  Rachel tried to smile, but it hurt too much. However, she ignored Sam’s advice and did pull herself up a little.

  Sam shook his head. He knew what a stubborn girl Rachel could be if she wanted.

  “Have I broken anything?” Rachel asked.

  “No,” Sam replied, “However, you’ve got lots of bruises so you’ll be sore for a while.”

  “And the doctor believes you hit your head,” James added. “That’s why we’re all so worried about you. They’ll probably keep you in hospital overnight for observation.”

  James took Rachel’s hand and squeezed it. She tried to smile again, thinking how lucky she was to have him by her side, but then it all came flooding back and she went cold. Was her mind playing tricks on her? She didn’t think so.

  “I need to call the police as soon as possible,” Rachel said, the color having drained from her face.

  Sam and Mary looked at her in astonishment and James spoke immediately.

  “Why, Rachel?” he asked. “Whatever for?”

  “I didn’t fall down those stairs. I was pushed.”

  * * *

  Almost as soon as Rachel had told the others about being pushed down the stairs, the nurses came round with her medication and ushered the others away from her bed. Rachel fell asleep again immediately after the nurses had left and an hour later, woke up again, feeling groggy.

  While she was sleeping, Sam, Mary and James discussed what Rachel had said. James was sure she was imagining being pushed down the stairs, but Mary and Sam wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt and Sam went to call the police.

  As Rachel’s eyes opened, she was confronted by a pair of brown eyes staring at her. Expecting to see James’s sparkling blue eyes, she woke up quickly and saw a tall, brooding man with dark wavy hair standing in front of her. Her head still hurt and she felt confused. Who was this man? For a brief moment she even forgot where she was, but then she saw Mary chatting to Uncle Sam and she remembered everything.

  “Detective Chief Inspector Peter Taylor,” the stranger spoke. “I hope I’m not wasting my time here, madam.”

  Well really, Rachel thought, who does he think he is? He’s barely given me a chance to wake up.

  “I gather you believe that somebody tried to push you down the stairs at your home?”

  “I don’t believe somebody tried to push me down the stairs,” Rachel said indignantly, annoyed by his abrupt manner. “I know someone pushed me down the stairs. I’m not stupid. I felt a hand on my back.”

  “Somebody must have seen this happen,” the Inspector said. "It was at a wake. There must have been people milling around.”

  “No, there weren’t. It’s a big house and the stairs aren’t where the guests were. The people were in the sitting room and I was at the top of the stairs. I shut the door to the sitting room when I left to go upstairs so nobody would have been able to see me. The bathroom for the guests was through another door which isn’t anywhere near the stairs.”

  “Have you any idea who would want to hurt you?”

  “Hurt me? Kill me you mean,” Rachel said, having taken an immediate dislike to the cold and distant Inspector Taylor. “Well, most of the family, apart from my Uncle Sam here, were angry that I inherited the house from George Robertson, my mother’s cousin. In particular, I would say his brothers Arthur and John, Arthur’s son, Mark, and John’s wife, Barbara, were the angriest. There’s a codicil in the will that says if I die within a year, Arthur, John and Uncle Sam get the house between them. Well I know Uncle Sam wouldn’t hurt me, but George’s brothers are a different matter.”

  “What happens if you live past the first year?”

  “The house is mine to do what I want with it.”

  Taylor turned to look at Sam, but Rachel spoke quickly.

  “Don’t even think it was Uncle Sam. He’s a High Court judge and we
’ve always been very close. Anyway, what would he want with a rundown old house? In fact what would I want with it? I was going to give it to George’s brothers until they were so obnoxious to me, but now I’m going to keep it.”

  “Don’t you think that’s a bit mean?” Taylor asked.

  “Mean?” Rachel exclaimed, her voice rising. “George left the house to me, not them and he obviously had a reason for doing so. Anyway, it’s none of your business. Your job is to find out who tried to kill me.”

  Inspector Taylor looked as if he was about to explode, while James was grinning in the background.

  How dare this woman speak to me like this? Who does she think she is? Taylor thought, but tried to be more polite. After all, Rachel Fisher was in pain.

  “There is no need to be so rude Miss Fisher. I don’t know what line of work you’re in, but I take great pride in following every case through to my best ability.”

  “You don’t know who Rachel Fisher is, sir,” Detective Sergeant Helen Wilson said. “She’s a famous actress. Been in lots of T.V. series. I think you’re marvelous,” she nodded to Rachel.

  Rachel smiled in her professional way, never failing to be kind to her fans. Taylor looked slightly embarrassed and then spoke.

  “I’m sorry, I don’t watch much television, only a bit with the kids... I don’t suppose anyone knows how long Miss Fisher was lying at the foot of the stairs?” he quickly changed the subject.

  “About half an hour’ Mary said. “I know that because I looked at my watch when you left the room, Rachel, and saw it was half past one. Later I realized you’d been gone ages, so I looked at my watch again and saw it was two. I was about to go out and find you when we all heard the scream from the girl who found you in the corridor.”

  “Well, you’re almost right, Mary.” Rachel said. “I was only upstairs for ten minutes. I must have been lying at the foot of the stairs for twenty minutes, out cold.

  “Well, that’s been very helpful, thank you,” Inspector Taylor said without smiling.

  “I’ll leave you to rest now, Miss Fisher. I’ll need a list of everybody at the wake. I’ll have to question them all.”

  “It’s Ms. Fisher if you don’t mind, Inspector,” Rachel said.

  Taylor gave Rachel a strange look, thinking how silly Ms. sounded when you said it out loud, but he supposed that these modern women had to be respected.

  “I’ll sort the list of people out for you,” Sam replied and walked the police officers out

  “Well, what a rude man,” Rachel said when Taylor had left.

  ‘But gorgeous,” Mary commented, with a grin on her face.

  “Do you think so?” Rachel asked. “His personality ruins his looks for me.”

  “I’m pleased to hear it,” James said and came and sat at the edge of the bed. “He’s obviously married though.”

  “Could be divorced,” Mary said.

  “You wish,” Rachel laughed.

  “You’re sounding a lot better,” James commented.

  “I feel it. My head hardly hurts at all now, but I expect they’ll want to keep me in overnight.”

  “It’s best with head injuries,” Mary said.

  “I’m afraid I’m going to have to leave you,” Sam popped back in. “Got to get back up to London after sorting out the list for Inspector Taylor.”

  “Of course, Uncle Sam; it’s good of you to stay so long.”

  “I’ll have to be going back to work as well," James said, “though I’d much rather be here with you.”

  Rachel felt herself blushing and hoped that nobody could see. She was feeling a whole lot better now that the interview with Detective Chef Inspector Taylor was over.

  “I’m surprised that detective didn’t put a guard in here to protect you,” James continued. “After all, someone did try and kill you.”

  “He didn’t believe me though, did he? It was written all over his face.”

  “Well, he’d better interview everyone, or he’ll have me to deal with,” Sam spoke sternly. “Mind you, I wouldn’t put it past Arthur or Barbara. They’re both vicious people.”

  “Alright, alright,” Mary interjected. “You two are frightening Rachel. She’ll probably stay up all night worrying that someone is going to get in here and finish her off. I’ll stay a little longer. Paul’s having the youngest two this evening.”

  Rachel was relieved that Mary was going to stay for a little while. She had begun to feel a little worried that if one of the family were so desperate for a share of the house and wanted to kill her, they would probably try again.

  Sam and James took their leave and Rachel looked longingly at James as he exited.

  “Your eyes will pop out of your head if you stare like that, Rachel.’ Mary whispered.

  Rachel laughed.

  “I can’t help it. He is so handsome and funny. I think I’m falling for him, Mary.”

  “Oh no, Rachel. You barely know him. All you do know is that he was an obnoxious kid and if that’s anything to go by, he’s probably still got some awful traits.”

  “Nonsense. He’s been lovely with me. He’s all grown up now, you know and he’s grown up very well in my opinion.’

  “You’re always telling me not to rush into another relationship, so for once, I’m telling you the same.”

  “I won’t, Mary. I mean he hasn’t even asked me out yet.”

  Mary looked at Rachel and shook her head. Rachel had always had long breaks between men, but when she met someone she liked, she fell hook, line and sinker and nothing else mattered. Although she had troubles of her own with her ex-husband, Mary resolved to keep a sharp eye on Rachel and an even sharper one on James.

  Chapter 3

  After lunch the following day, Rachel sat in the front passenger seat of Mary’s car travelling back from the hospital to Oakfield. She was quiet and not surprisingly, Mary was a little worried about her.

  “Are you sure you want to go back to Oakfield so soon, Rachel? You can come and stay at my house if you like. I don’t want you fretting about what happened. It would be better if you were with friends.”

  “I’ll be fine, Mary. Thanks for the offer.”

  In fact Rachel hadn’t even been thinking about who had pushed her down the stairs the previous day. She was holding onto a large bouquet of roses which were from James and had arrived at the hospital that morning. All she could think about at the moment was him.

  “You must admit that these flowers are absolutely beautiful, Mary.” Rachel said, changing the subject completely. ‘It was very kind of James to send them. Do you think he’s fallen for me? I mean, you don’t send red roses to anyone.”

  “I have no idea, Rachel, but I can’t believe how much you’ve changed your tune about him since we were kids. He was a horrid little boy and I certainly haven’t forgotten what he was like then. I remember the time he tore up your English homework. It was an essay you’d spent all weekend writing.”

  “I’d forgotten all about that, but it was a long time ago,” Rachel replied, wishing that Mary hadn’t mentioned it. She didn’t want to be disillusioned about James. Mind you, the way she was feeling, it would take a lot more than that to put her off James Parker.

  However, Mary had brought back some unpleasant memories. As Rachel looked out of the window a voice in her head kept whispering that James hadn’t been a nice child.

  “Anyway, he wasn’t nasty to you, was he?” she asked Mary, hoping to have some positive feedback.

  “Yes, I’m afraid he was. He used to whisper snide comments in my ear about my weight. He called me fatty, porky and all sorts of names.”

  “I didn’t know that,” Rachel gasped.

  “He always made sure nobody could hear and I was too ashamed about my weight anyway to tell anyone, even you.”

  “You shouldn’t have been. We were best friends. And you definitely should have told George.”

  “He seemed to dote on the boy and was always telling us to be nice to him because
he’d had a terrible early childhood, so I kept it to myself.”

  “Well, then you should at least have told me”

  “I knew you’d tell George. You’d never have let James get away with it.”

  “Yes, I probably would have done and James would have been punished as he needed to be.”

  “You didn’t tell George when James was horrid to you.”

  “That was different. We were like family then. You were a guest. If I’d have known what he was doing, I wouldn’t have invited you to Oakfield. You would just have come to my house.”

  Mary shook her head. Rachel always did make up her own rules.

  Rachel became quiet again, telling herself that James was different now. He had been a young, confused boy and she had to make allowances for that. Now he was charming, kind and generous and that was all that mattered.

  As they approached Oakfield Hall, Rachel put James to the back of her mind as a sense of excitement built up. She wasn’t a woman to give in to fear and she knew she couldn’t brood on the fact that somebody had tried to kill her. They had failed and she now planned to concentrate on renovating the house. Anyway, the police were involved so whoever had pushed her down the stairs might be a little more wary.

  It wasn’t long before Mary parked up near to the front door at Oakfield Hall. Rachel was relieved as she felt a little sore after the car journey.

  “Are you coming in, Mary?” she asked.

  “I’d love to, but I have to go and pick up the kids from their Dad’s. I’ll ring later to see how you are.”

  “Alright. Thanks so much for the lift.”

  With Mary gone, Rachel went into the house. As she looked at the stairs, she burst into tears, all thoughts about putting what had happened to her to the back of her mind disappearing in a flash. Fishing about in her handbag, she managed to find a hanky, but the more she wiped away the tears, the more they kept flowing.