The Shadow of Langley Hall

by Dilys Xavier

  The next morning she met with Josie and Ruben Lombard to discuss some contingency plans. They agreed to help her find someone to take over the general running of the estate before returning to their respective homes. Ruben drafted an advertisement to be placed in a number of country-life magazines, and promised to interview any prospective applicants.

  Once Catherine was able to sit back and relax a little that evening, she rang Louise and told her that she was ready to accept her invitation. She replaced the phone, and then settled down to watch the television in an effort to take her mind off things, but nothing appealed to her and she became restless again. She went to the sideboard and poured herself another drink and then flopped onto the chair once more and immediately slipped into a disturbed sleep. She awoke with a start and staggered into the bathroom.

  The face that looked back from the mirror was drawn and tired, but still very attractive. There were very few people who would have guessed that she was fast approaching a thirtieth birthday. She smiled sadly at herself before snapping off the light.

  ‘Only six days to go. I hope nothing goes wrong in that time.’

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Who’s that at this time of the morning? Richard frowned as the doorbell rang a second time.

  Hurriedly wiping away the remains of the shaving foam, he opened the front door to find Tom Clancy standing on the doorstep. He had completely forgotten the builder was to start work on the renovations today.

  ‘Morning, Mr Carlisle.’ The man nodded to his off-sider. ‘This is Dermot, he’s going to help me with the heavy stuff.’

  Richard finished dressing and gulped down his coffee as the two men carried their tools into the house. When he had made sure that Clancy knew exactly what had to be done, he left them to get on with the work. As soon as he reached the office, he phoned his accountant to check if he had given the okay to the lease of the new premises, and then he spoke to his bank manager confirming a possible extension to his overdraft. He put the phone down with a deep sigh of satisfaction, and walked into the outer office. ‘Well, it looks as if everything is settled; and with a bit of luck we should be in the new place by the beginning of next month. He rubbed his hands together and grinned broadly. ‘Like you said, Nicole, everything’s coming up roses.’

  Their conversation was interrupted by a cheery good morning from the postman. He dumped a bundle of letters on Nicole’s desk with the rejoinder, ‘That’ll keep you out of mischief for a while.’

  She picked them up and rifled through them quickly. There were no official envelopes or anything that indicated their requests for information had been answered.

  ‘I can’t imagine why they’re taking so long, I really can’t,’ she said. ‘You should have had everything back by now.’

  Richard looked at the wall calendar and slammed his balled fist into the palm of his hand. The circled date seemed to leap out at him; the deadline was imminent. If he did not present his evidence to the courts within the next twenty-four hours, it was all over. He would never have another opportunity to claim his birth right.

  ‘You’ve run out of time, haven’t you.’ Nicole’s question made him wince.

  ‘Yes, it’s looks like it.’ He gave a small, bitter smile. ‘Oh, well, maybe it’s just not meant to be.’ He looked at the calendar again. ‘Tomorrow’s the last opportunity. There’s nothing more I can do now, but just hope something turns up in the morning post.’

  ‘But even that may be too late,’ Nicole said. ‘You mightn’t get things dealt with in time.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Even if you appear to have anything needed to make the claim something might be missing. Any number of things can stop it being processed. Someone might query one of the documents; you may be required to provide additional proof of identity.’ She looked genuinely distressed when his face fell. ‘I’m sorry, I really am. I know how much it means to you. But I don’t know what else you can do.’

  ‘Forget it, I suppose.’

  ‘No don’t give up.’ She brightened up immediately. ‘I’ll phone my old boss and see if he has any ideas, okay? Maybe there’s some way of appealing for extra time.’

  ‘Thanks Nicole, I appreciate your concern. In the meantime we’ve got to keep the wheels of commerce turning smoothly.’ He glanced at his watch. I’m off now. I’ll grab a bite somewhere after I’ve seen Phil Harriman.’

  As Richard came out of the man’s office an hour later he saw a small pub diagonally across the road. The interior was a bit dingy, but the smells coming from the kitchen were enticing, so he ordered a hamburger with trimmings. His mind wandered back to his conversation with Cecile a few days earlier. She had asked him point blank whether he had any connection with Langley Hall.

  ‘Catherine thinks you may be related to Sir Hugh and have the right to claim the inheritance.’ Before he had a chance to respond she had continued. ‘Catherine and I have been friends since childhood, and although we don’t appear to have much in common we’ve stuck by each other over the years. I’m very concerned about her.’ She had grabbed at his hand. ‘If we are to continue seeing each other I need to know more about you, and I want you to tell me the truth. You’ve never told me anything about your family. Are they related to Sir Hugh? When he had hesitated, Cecile promised, ‘I won’t ring up Catherine and blurt it out.’

  With a great deal of reluctance, Richard had told her the whole story from the time he had seen a photo of Sir Hugh in the local paper. How he had noted his likeness to the man’s portrait hanging in Langley Hall and begun to question that resemblance. How he had searched through his mother’s odds and ends and found letters from his Aunt Judith that clearly linked them to the Williams family. Then he went on to explain that he had traced his mother’s lineage in an old but well preserved bible.

  He spoke of the chance encounter with a man in the Wheatsheaf Inn who told him that there was a relative of Elisabeth’s still living in a nearby village. Told her how he had driven to Crickleburn and met and talked with Agnes Frobisher whose brother had eloped with the heiress of Langley Hall. Finally, he told her how he had pieced everything together and had come to the conclusion that he was the son of the Lady Elizabeth Williams and rightful heir to the estate.

  ‘I have no doubt in my mind that my claim will satisfy the courts,’ Richard had told her. ‘I know it will be a terrible shock to Catherine, but she’s not Sir Hugh’s natural daughter. Besides, he had the opportunity to change his will completely in her favour, but he didn’t.’

  ‘How soon will you know if you can claim the inheritance?’

  Richard had laughed bitterly.

  ‘It may already be too late.’ He went on to explain that the necessary documents had not arrived, and that if he didn’t receive them within the next few days, there would be nothing he could do about it. Catherine would inherit the estate.

  He had watched Cecile’s face as she wrestled with the knowledge that the future of Langley Hall had to be decided between her best friend and her lover. She had promised not to divulge anything to Catherine until Richard knew for sure, but he had his doubts whether she would keep her word. After all, their friendship had been forged over many years, and she had only known him for a few short weeks.

  Richard couldn’t help wondering whether Cecile would be able to keep her promise not to warn her friend or repeat their conversation. Well, it probably was too late by now anyway. Time had beaten him. He pushed his plate away and sighed, accepting that it didn’t really matter how it went after all.

  A motorist looking for directions pulled up beside him as he was getting into the Saab. Rather than try to explain the twists and turns involved to find the street the man wanted, he suggested that the driver follow him.

  ‘I’m heading in that general direction, anyway.’

  As the man tooted appreciation and turned off into the street he had been looking for, Richard glanced at his wristwatch; it was just after one o’clock. On a sudden whim he dec
ided to go home and see how the work was progressing. Tom Clancy seemed surprised to see him at that time of day, and was most apologetic as he explained that it had taken longer than he thought to dismantle the wall.

  ‘Sorry, but it’s all a bit of a mess at the moment.’ He gestured at the rubbish-strewn floor, ‘but we’ll soon clear it up when the skip arrives.’ He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand and then cocked his head on one side. ‘That sounds like them now.’

  ‘No problems then?’

  ‘No, it’s all pretty straight forward.’ As Richard nodded and walked towards the front door Tom called to him. ‘Oh, by the way, I found an old big envelope behind the fixed dresser when we shifted it away from the wall; it must have fallen down the back.’ He gestured at the piece of furniture. ‘I stuffed it in the top drawer. It’s bulky; looked important to me.’

  Even before Richard pulled the dusty, old manila folder out of the drawer, his hands began to shake. It was as if he knew what it contained. He carried it into the other room, sat down at the table and opened the envelope addressed to him in his mother’s handwriting. A strange sensation swept through him; he felt was as if she were reaching out to him from beyond the grave.

  He mouthed the first few words then continued to read in silence:

  ‘My dear son,

  I have taken this opportunity to tell you something about my early life; a life which, to a large degree, you know nothing about. I deliberately refused to divulge it when I was alive because I was concerned for your welfare and didn’t want to cause you any unnecessary heartache. By the time I had realised that this was a mistake it was too late and I could not bring myself to tell you.

  You may have guessed that I married your father against the wishes of my family. There was no reason to run away other than that my father refused to accept my love for a man below our class. He believed I should marry someone who would carry on the family heritage and tradition. I have never regretted what I did, but it has left its scars. He disowned me and all but cast me out of the family home.

  But the deepest hurt of all was the accidental death of your father when you were just a lad. He had not foreseen the possibility of such an occurrence, and of course he had made no provision for anything like that. There was no way to claim compensation in those days. Of course I could have appealed to your grandfather for help, but I was still angry that he’d seen fit to ban me from my home so cruelly, and of course I am as stubborn as he was.

  Our relationship had always been somewhat strained. I don’t remember very much about my mother for she died when I was quite young, but apparently she wasn’t a healthy woman. I never told him that he had a grandson, because he might have tried to take you away from me. He was a domineering man and he probably would have gone to court to apply for custody, citing my lack of financial resources.

  My life at Langley Hall was never a happy one. I wasn’t allowed to bring other children to the house and I had to sneak away to play with them in the village. The only bright spot in later years were my activities at the local church. That’s where I met your father. He was a wonderful man; it’s such a pity that you didn’t know him.’

  Richard felt his eyes mist as the words took hold of his heart. He let the letter fall onto the table as he tried to imagine the pain his mother must felt as she wrote them. Then he picked it up again, and continued to read.

  ‘But that’s all water under the bridge now. However, I was fortunate to have one relative who did understand my dilemma, and she stood by me through some very lean years. Aunt Judith was as good as her word and never revealed my true identity or my whereabouts to anyone in the family. You owe her a lot. It was her money that paid for your education. I don’t know how we’d have managed without her help.

  You may not have been aware that I was the sole beneficiary in her will. She left me this house, all the furniture and a sizeable bequest as well, and it’s all yours now. Of course, I’m not belittling your efforts to help. I’ve always been so proud of you and when you got that scholarship I was over the moon with joy. It gave you the confidence to go on to university and get your degree.’

  Once again, Richard felt his eyes mist over. The letter continued.

  ‘Yes, I’m very proud of what you have achieved and you did it without any outside assistance or influence, and that counts for a lot. If your grandfather had known he would have tried to shape your life to his way of thinking and probably driven a wedge between you and me. He wanted someone to carry on the heritage name, but only on his terms.

  As I said earlier, I never regretted marrying your father, but I feel remiss that I’ve kept the truth from you all these years. I ask your forgiveness for that. Your grandfather refused my offer of reconciliation when I asked for it. It was much later that he sent word to me that he was prepared to forgive and forget, but I knew him too well, so I never accepted his offer to have me back at Langley Hall.

  So although I could have claimed my inheritance immediately after he died, I was reluctant to do so because I worried that it might spoil the special relationship we’ve enjoyed as mother

  and son. Maybe I was wrong; maybe I should have given you the chance to prove that wealth and status wouldn’t change you. But I was too frightened to find out. And of course I didn’t want to go back there again. I had come to hate the place.

  I don’t know why, but there has been a shadow over Langley Hall for generations, and I didn’t want that shadow to blight your young life. Again, if I was wrong, then you’ll have to forgive me. However I did what I thought was right at the time. So now you know the story and of course you may wish to claim your birth right. As far as I understand, the estate is legally mine and you are next in line, and I have bequeathed everything to you.’

  Richard choked back a sob and rubbed his eyes before continuing.

  ‘You will find all the necessary documents to justify your claim in the envelopes contained in this folder. The choice is yours, but remember that Langley Hall has not been a happy place. However, you might be the one who can lift the spectre that has blighted the lives of those who have lived there in the past.’

  Richard swallowed hard as he read his mother’s closing words.

  ‘God Bless you, my son. May your life be a happy one.’

  It was simply signed, ‘Your loving mother.’

  He sat staring at the letter until he heard Tom Clancy call his name.

  ‘I’ll be off now, Mr Carlisle,’ the builder said, poking his head around the doorway. ‘We can’t do much more today so I’ll see you first thing in the morning.’

  ‘That’s fine,’ Richard replied, without thinking, and then he looked at the clock. ‘Good grief, is that the time?’ He grabbed the phone and dialled his office. When Nicole came on the line, he shouted. ‘I’ve got them, all the documents, everything.’

  ‘That’s incredible,’ she replied, excitedly. ‘How wonderful for you.’

  ‘Now look, we may just have enough time to get to the court before it closes. Can Juanita handle everything for an hour or two? Yes, of course she can.’ Richard’s voice rose higher and higher. ‘I want you to drop everything, jump in a cab and meet me outside the courts. I need you to guide me to the right people. I can’t afford to waste time or make a mistake now.’

  He shoved everything back into the manila folder and rushed out of the house. Then he raced back to slam the front door. The traffic seemed to be twice as heavy as normal. He cursed and swore at everyone who got in his way, and tried every trick he knew to make up time. Nicole stepped out of a cab just as he pulled into a parking space. He grabbed her arm.

  ‘You’re on a double bonus if we pull this off in time,’ he cried, excitedly. ‘Come on where do we go first?’

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  They took the steps two at a time and almost ran into the foyer. Richard was counting on Nicole’s knowledge of the building to lead him through the maze of corridors in the right direction. Fortunately, she was acquainted with
all the short cuts and did not waste any time explaining where they were going. All those trips to the court delivering solicitor’s briefs were now paying off. He felt a sudden surge of gratitude for her; she had been so understanding and so helpful in his effort to gather the documents.

  He trusted her blindly as she ducked around corners and through doorways., then, suddenly they were there. He murmured a thanks to Nicole as he banged the pile of documents on the counter. After a few minutes a member of the staff sauntered nonchalantly across to where he waited. When Richard began to explain what he wanted to do the man glanced at a clock on the wall and muttered something about closing time being near.

  ‘I can’t record this now, it’ll take too long. You’ll have to come back tomorrow,’ the man said, pushing the documents back across the counter.

  Richard looked at him in amazement. He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry; whether to abuse the man or offer him a bribe. At that moment, James Watt, the head of the department came through the door and glanced idly at the trio by the counter. When he recognised Richard, he paused.

  ‘Hello, Carlisle. What brings you in here?’

  Richard spun around and stared open mouthed at the silver haired president of his golf club. As he acknowledged James Watt’s greeting, a smile lit up his face. Help was at hand.

  ‘I’ve brought these documents in to have them processed, James,’ he said, then he went to explain the situation more fully. When he had finished the man pushed the pile of documents back across the counter towards the sullen-faced clerk.

  ‘I want you to process this lot immediately ... understand?’

  The man looked pointedly at the clock on the wall and then said, ‘But it’s ...’

  ‘I don’t care what time it is and I don’t care how long it takes, just make sure you dot every ‘i’ and cross every ‘t’.’