Saving Willowbrook

by Anna Jacobs

  Recent Titles by Anna Jacobs from Severn House

  CHANGE OF SEASON

  CHESTNUT LANE

  THE CORRIGAN LEGACY

  FAMILY CONNECTIONS

  A FORBIDDEN EMBRACE

  AN INDEPENDENT WOMAN

  KIRSTY’S VINEYARD

  MARRYING MISS MARTHA

  MISTRESS OF MARYMOOR

  REPLENISH THE EARTH

  SAVING WILLOWBROOK

  SEASONS OF LOVE

  THE WISHING WELL

  This eBook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

  This first world edition published 2009

  in Great Britain and in the USA by

  SEVERN HOUSE PUBLISHERS LTD of

  9–15 High Street, Sutton, Surrey, England, SM1 1DF.

  Copyright © 2009 by Anna Jacobs.

  All rights reserved.

  The moral right of the author has been asserted.

  British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data

  Jacobs, Anna

  Saving Willowbrook

  1. Family farms – Fiction 2. Real estate development – Fiction 3. Love stories

  I. Title

  823.9’14[F]

  ISBN-13: 978-1-78010-026-5 (ePub)

  ISBN-13: 978-0-7278-6738-4 (cased)

  ISBN-13: 978-1-84751-120-1 (trade paper)

  Except where actual historical events and characters are being

  described for the storyline of this novel, all situations in this

  publication are fictitious and any resemblance to living persons

  is purely coincidental.

  This ebook produced by

  Palimpsest Book Production Limited,

  Falkirk, Stirlingshire, Scotland.

  With love and gratitude to my niece Louise and her family, husband Kevin, children Archie and Scarlett, who have helped me with the research for Spinal Muscular Atrophy and given me an understanding how it affects people.

  And with warmest wishes to all families whose children have been affected by SMA.

  One

  Ella picked up the mail from the post office box, muttering in annoyance when she saw how battered and torn the largest envelope was. Whoever had sent it should have used more secure packaging.

  It was addressed to her husband and Miles really hated anyone to open his mail, even circulars. She’d found that out the hard way early in their marriage when she accidentally opened one of his letters. It had been their first quarrel – but not their last.

  As she walked out of the post office, a youth running past bumped into her and knocked the letters flying. Before she could pick them up a policewoman chasing the lad trampled on them. Ella was pleased to see a passer-by trip up the fugitive and end the chase.

  The torn envelope had burst open and its contents were jumbled up with the other mail, some pages marked by a dirty footprint. As she sat in the car, smoothing out a crumpled letter, the words on it jumped out at her:

  With regard to finalizing the sale of Willowbrook . . .

  She couldn’t move for a moment, so shocked was she, then she read the letter carefully, close to tears at what it revealed. Miles was trying to sell the home that had been in her family for centuries, and without telling her! When had he shown these people round? Oh, yes. Two months ago he’d insisted she and Amy spend a weekend at the seaside while he went away on a business trip. It could only have been then.

  She’d been touched by his thoughtfulness, only he’d been lying to her, tricking her!

  By the time she’d finished reading, blazing anger had taken over from the urge to weep. She’d learned to control her temper years ago, so she breathed deeply and did nothing till she was calm enough to think straight. That took a while.

  She and Miles hadn’t been getting on for some time, didn’t even share a bedroom any more, but she’d hung on to the tatters of their marriage for their daughter Amy’s sake – and with a vague hope that things might improve. And he could be charming when he wanted, even now. But Ella had never thought he’d try to cheat her. Had he forged her signature? What did ‘finalizing the sale’ mean? They couldn’t do that without her, surely? Willowbrook was hers alone. She’d owned it before they married and made sure it would stay hers legally.

  At first Miles had pretended to love the country lifestyle, but he’d gradually grown weary of commuting and had suggested she sell the farm and invest the money. She’d refused, of course she had, because the farm wasn’t hers to sell. It had been in her family for several generations and she regarded it as a sacred trust. She was merely the person who looked after it in this generation of Turners, as her daughter Amy would in the next.

  She shook her head in bafflement. How could Miles expect to get away with this? Perhaps he thought she’d change her mind if he presented her with a good enough offer. He was always optimistic about his own powers of persuasion – and about the power of money. It was what made him a good salesman and ideas man – well, ideas that might make money, he wasn’t interested in any other sort.

  In the end there was only one thing to do. She went to see the lawyer who’d dealt with her family’s business until – stupidly, in the first flush of love! – she’d let Miles persuade her to move her affairs into the hands of his London lawyer and leave things to him. At least she’d never signed anything without reading it, even if that had caused more quarrels. She wasn’t that stupid. Not quite.

  Grimly she started the car and drove to the other end of the village, parking outside the old-fashioned ‘rooms’ where the Hannows had done business for as many generations as the Turners had farmed at Willowbrook.

  Arthur Hannow came out of his office, walking stiffly but still escorting a client to the door with his usual old-fashioned courtesy. Then he turned to her with a beaming smile. ‘Ella, my dear girl, how delightful to see you again!’

  She tried to smile back, couldn’t, and saw his eyes narrow. He might look like everyone’s favourite grandfather, but he was as shrewd as they came. She let him usher her into his cosy office overlooking the main street of the village and sighed as she sank down on the worn oxblood leather armchair.

  ‘Something’s clearly wrong, Ella. Can I help?’

  ‘I hope so. Will you take me back as a client, me and not my husband?’

  ‘Yes, of course.’

  She explained to him what Miles was trying to do and, by the time she finished, she was in tears again. She couldn’t take the end of her marriage lightly.

  Mr Hannow pushed a box of tissues towards her and waited quietly until she’d stopped crying. ‘I’ll have to ask my nephew to handle this, if it’s all right with you, my dear.’ He gave her a wry smile. ‘I’ll be seventy-five next month and it’s more than time I retired.’

  ‘I’m sorry you’re leaving. You’ll be greatly missed. I didn’t know you had a nephew working with you.’

  ‘Ian’s only been with us for a few months. He’s young but he’s smart. He’s been in London for a few years gaining wider experience. You’ll be safe in his hands.’

  Ian Hannow joined them, a slimmer, younger version of his uncle, mousy hair already thinning, but with the same gentle smile. ‘Young fellow’ was a misnomer. He must have been at least forty, ten years older than her.

  ‘I’m happy to help you, Mrs Parnell.’

  ‘It’s Ms Turner from no
w on. I’m resuming my maiden name.’

  ‘What exactly do you want to do about this?’

  She sighed. ‘For Amy’s sake I’d rather settle everything quietly. Miles is still her father, after all. I just want him to leave Willowbrook and not come back.’

  ‘Do you hold the property as joint tenants?’

  ‘No, it’s mine alone. I inherited it from my father before I even met Miles.’

  Old Mr Hannow leaned forward. ‘We drew up a list of property and possessions before Ella married and he signed it.’

  Ian nodded slowly and thoughtfully. ‘Good. And you never authorized your husband to sell Willowbrook, or gave him the impression you might be interested in considering selling, Ms Turner?’

  ‘Please call me Ella. And I definitely didn’t authorize Miles to sell the property, though he’s suggested it a few times. It was one of the things we quarrelled about. It might not be a legal trust but it’s a sacred trust, which is why my father left Willowbrook to me, not my mother.’ She frowned and added, ‘Miles put money into the tourist chalets we’ve built at Willowbrook. I can’t pay that back now, obviously, so we’ll have to come to some arrangement about it.’

  ‘Very well. We can’t keep these papers, of course. You should send them back to your husband, including the torn envelope with the sticker “damaged on receipt”, explaining how they came to be opened.’

  ‘I’ll send them via his London lawyers.’ And she’d make photocopies of the papers first. But she didn’t say that.

  Ian cleared his throat, looking suddenly very wooden-faced. ‘You’re not still – um, sharing a bed?’

  ‘No, we haven’t been for a while. Miles comes down every second or third weekend, but he has a service flat in London. He said he was sleeping badly, didn’t want to disturb me. We both knew it was a lie, but there was Amy to think of. Now . . . Well, I’d like to get a divorce as soon as I can.’

  ‘I see.’

  She shrugged. The anger was subsiding, her main emotion sadness that it should come to this – and to her surprise, she felt deeply relieved to be done with the pretence. Miles’s visits over the past few months had been full of arguments and bristling silences. Even four-year-old Amy had noticed that and no longer hurried to meet her father or show him things.

  Ella would never forgive Miles for this. Never! He wasn’t just trying to steal the inheritance from her, but from his own daughter. She was quite sure he’d have been getting a huge kickback from any sale of Willowbrook. He’d not have bothered to arrange it otherwise.

  The thought of all the lies he’d told recently made her feel physically sick. She’d seen him use his charm on others, hadn’t realized at first that he was using it on her too, that there was nothing behind his endearments.

  She looked at her watch. ‘It’s time to pick Amy up from my cousin’s. Is there anything else we need to do now?’

  ‘We’ll need to have an in-depth discussion about the details of the divorce – and the money your husband invested in Willowbrook. Perhaps you could make an appointment to do that?’

  After she’d said goodbye to old Mr Hannow, Ian escorted her to the door in the same way his uncle did. That was comforting. A small continuity in a changing world.

  A couple of weeks later Ella heard a car drive up to the farm and come round towards the rear. Putting down the potato she was peeling, she went to peep out of the window at Amy, who was playing with the dog. When the car came into view, Ella exclaimed, ‘Oh, no!’ She wasn’t ready for this confrontation.

  Miles parked and walked towards the back door. He waved to the child, who had turned towards him, a hopeful smile on her face, but he didn’t stop to speak. The dog had stiffened into an alert, watchful stance. Porgy had never accepted Miles, nor had her husband liked having a dog around.

  It hurt Ella to see Amy’s face crumple with disappointment as her father walked briskly past. What would it have cost him to stop and say a few words to his daughter?

  He came into the huge kitchen without knocking, smiling as if nothing was wrong. ‘Hi.’

  She folded her arms and glared at him, waiting.

  He cocked one eye at her questioningly. ‘Surely we can talk about this in a calm, adult way?’

  ‘I’m past the talking stage. Just take the rest of your things and get out! And don’t ever come here again. I want a divorce.’

  He studied her and sighed. ‘Very well. But we should make this divorce amicable, for Amy’s sake, don’t you think? How about a coffee? It’s a long drive from London.’

  ‘I’d not give you a drink of water if you were dying of thirst.’

  ‘Dear me. How melodramatic!’ His smile didn’t falter, but his eyes were cold and watchful. ‘You always were rash, Ella. Typical redhead. That temper of yours will be your undoing one day.’

  ‘How could you possibly think I’d sell Willowbrook?’

  ‘I thought when you found out how much they were offering, you’d see reason. We could have made a fortune.’ He looked out of the window towards the six holiday chalets they were building as the first stage of a venture into tourism. ‘I started those chalets to tempt buyers to the farm and they’ve done that. If you read those papers you opened—’

  ‘I did not open them!’

  ‘However you came by the information, you’ll know what a big fish we had on the hook, Skara Holdings was offering enough to set you and Amy up in comfort for the rest of your lives, even after I’d taken my spotter’s share. Look at that!’ He gestured to the view. ‘A private lake, woods, land zoned for agriculture that can’t be built on. It’s perfect for a major tourist development.’

  ‘We had trouble getting even limited development permission from the council.’

  ‘But those chalets got our foot in the door, planning-wise. That’s how it’s done these days, create a precedent. It wouldn’t be hard to push the council for more if someone went about it the right way. As it is, you’re going to be left in the mire, Ella, my pet. How are you going to finish the chalets without my money? I’m definitely not paying for something which won’t benefit me.’

  She’d been worrying about that. ‘None of your business now. I’ll manage.’

  ‘You’re being stupid as well as stubborn. What about Amy? She’s only going to get worse. Wouldn’t a disabled child be better facing life with money behind her? She may never be able to work and—’

  ‘How many times do I have to tell you there’s nothing wrong with Amy’s brain? Her problem is physical and children like her are usually smarter than average, so she’ll be able to do a desk job as well as anyone else, probably better than most. And if by the time she grows up, she’s using a wheelchair to get around – which isn’t always necessary for people with her problem, remember – well, the world is used to people with disabilities and technology is getting better at helping them all the time.’

  She clamped her lips together. It was no use talking to him about their daughter. The minute they’d found out that Amy had spinal muscular atrophy, in her case the milder version known as SMA3, Miles had withdrawn mentally and physically, not only from their daughter but from Ella as well. And yet, the defect only showed up if both parents were carriers, so why he always blamed her for it, she didn’t understand.

  Actually, she did understand. She’d come to realize that he never admitted being in the wrong, always found someone else to blame. It was part of the way he dealt with every aspect of life.

  ‘The child would get help more easily, if you had money,’ he said slowly and with heavy scorn, as if speaking to someone stupid. ‘You do realize my medical insurance will no longer cover you from now on?’

  ‘You’ll cut Amy off it too? I was hoping . . .’ Ella bit back further words, annoyed at having betrayed her feelings.

  ‘Now that you have ruined this project, I’m damned if I’m helping you in any way. You’ve not only turned down a good offer – you always were stupid financially – you’ve lost me a top job with the same com
pany. It’ll be a while before certain people have confidence in me after this fiasco.’

  ‘So why did you waste petrol money coming down here?’

  ‘Haven’t you been listening? We need – to reach an agreement – about the chalets. You and I, not some damned lawyers. I borrowed the money to build them, so I could still close you down and force a sale if I demanded repayment.’

  ‘And if you did that, I’d tell Skara Holdings you were trying to sell my house without my permission, which would further damage your reputation in that wonderful business world you inhabit.’

  The look he gave her was briefly vicious but was quickly replaced by a cool expression. ‘You won’t do that, though. For our dear daughter’s sake. Anyway, I’m not going to foreclose. I’ll treat it as an investment and let the money you owe me stand for the moment, for Amy’s sake – I do care for my child, whatever you believe. But you’ll need to buy me out one day – and not in twenty years’ time, either. Let’s agree that you’ll pay me back within five years – with annual interest at current mortgage rates? What could be fairer?’ He looked at her questioningly.

  ‘Ten years would be better.’

  ‘I’m not a bloody philanthropist. And what’s more, I’m not paying maintenance for Amy as well as losing the chance to use my own money. Is it a deal or not?’

  ‘Probably.’ She’d manage somehow, pay Miles back, do whatever it took. She didn’t intend to be the Turner who lost Willowbrook, even though she was the first not to farm it. She’d no interest in raising beef cattle and had leased the fields out after her father died, keeping only the land around the lake. Her mother had moved back to Lancashire to be near her elderly parents and was now remarried, to a great guy.

  Miles smirked at Ella and she pulled her attention back to the present.

  ‘You’ll have to get the chalets up and running without my help.’ He reached into his inside pocket. ‘I’ve drawn up an agreement. If you could just sign it and—’

  ‘Send it to my lawyer.’

  ‘I thought we were going to keep this between ourselves. It’s all perfectly straightforward, just read it.’