Emily stiffened. Phillip still sounded madder than hell.
Brian merely glanced over his shoulder at him. “I’ll be with ya in a minute.” He turned back to face them. “He can wait. Already ’eard quite enough from ’im for one day.”
Emily asked for a white wine, but no sooner had the words left her lips than Phillip was at their table. He grasped the back of an empty chair and glowered at Mr. Tremmond, ignoring the rest of them. “And that’s another thing. Surely the will isn’t legal if it isn’t in her legal name?”
To his credit, Mr. Tremmond didn’t appear in the least bit flustered. “Excuse me? What makes you think Phelps wasn’t Jane’s legal name?” Emily marveled at his calm manner.
Phillip sneered. “She just called herself Phelps when she moved that… that woman into the house. Christ, they even wore wedding rings.”
Mr. Tremmond’s gaze grew icy. “That woman had a name. Clare Phelps. And of course they wore wedding rings. They were married, after all. Jane changed her name by deed poll shortly after the wedding.”
Emily didn’t know who was the more shocked—her or Phillip.
I had no idea. The revelation hit her hard. Why didn’t they tell me?
“Rubbish.” Phillip scowled. “It isn’t true.”
Mr. Tremmond gazed at him calmly. “I was a witness. They were married in 2014 in a registry office in Bath. Clare had wanted them to consider a civil partnership back in 2005, but Jane always believed the law would change, so she held out for marriage. She was sixty-nine and Clare was sixty-six. And as soon as that license was signed and dated, she asked me to go about changing her name to Phelps by deed poll. She said she had no wish to keep the name of Drummond, or for Clare to take her name, because it had never brought her happiness.”
Emily could almost hear Jane saying those words.
Phillip swallowed, drew himself to his full height and strode out of the pub.
For a moment there was silence.
Brian cleared his throat. “I’m just gonna bring a pint for Ted, a sweet sherry for you and Doreen ’ere, and a bottle of white wine for the ladies.” And with that he left them and returned to the bar.
Ted, Doreen and Fran regarded one another in silence.
Emily finally found her voice. “Why didn’t they tell me? I would have come to their wedding. I just thought…. They’d worn rings as far back as I can remember. Jane always said it was because that was how they thought of each other, as married.” She shook her head. “I had no idea they’d done it for real.” God, that hurt.
“Emily.” Mr. Tremmond’s voice was gentle. “What was happening in your life in the summer of 2014?”
She cast her mind back, trying to remember. “Nothing I can think of. Certainly nothing that would have prevented me from—” She froze. “Oh.”
He nodded. “You were in the middle of a lawsuit. Jane told me. She said you needed to keep your focus on your legal battles. And she was right, wasn’t she? After all, you won your case.”
“But I still don’t understand why they didn’t tell me.”
“You said it yourself. They already viewed themselves as married. Nothing had changed, except they now had a piece of paper to make everything legal. Life merely continued.”
Emily turned to look at Fran. “Did you know about this?”
Before Fran could reply, Mr. Tremmond interjected. “No one did. It was a secret. They felt it was no one’s business but theirs.” He took her hand in his. “I know you must feel slighted, as though they didn’t trust you, but believe me, it wasn’t like that. And it was the lawsuit that first gave Jane the idea of leaving you the house.”
She blinked. “What?”
Brian cleared his throat as he approached their table, carrying a tray. “’Ere. There’s sandwiches, sausage rolls, quiche and crisps. That’ll keep ya going for a while. I’ll bring the drinks over.” He left them once more.
Absently, Emily reached for a ham sandwich and bit into it. The others followed suit, and minutes later Brian returned with the drinks. “I’ll just… leave you all to it,” he said, withdrawing.
There were still questions to be answered.
She put down her half-eaten sandwich on a paper plate. “Can I ask how you knew Jane and Clare?” she asked Ted and Doreen.
“You first, Dor,” Ted said before taking a large gulp of beer.
Doreen’s face flushed. “What? Oh. Okay then.” She sipped her sherry. “I suppose I’d better start at the beginning. In 2000 I was eighteen and working in an office in Bath. Not exactly a well-paid job; I used to make the tea, empty the bins, a bit of filing. I’d travel to and from Bath every day on the bus. Well, then I met this lad…” A tide of red rose up her neck from beneath the collar of her cream blouse. “The long and the short of it is, he got me pregnant. Once he found out, he didn’t want anything to do with me. Said it wasn’t his.” Her face darkened. “Now, right from the start, I never wanted to get rid of it. But once Maisie was born, money got a lot tighter. There was just me and my dad at home—we lost Mum when I was twelve—and he couldn’t help look after the baby. He’s a carpenter by trade. So I had lots of people in the village who helped out when they could, but it meant that there were days when I was late, or I couldn’t even get into work. Well, the company I worked for took a dim view of that, and I was fired.”
“Just like that?” Fran was aghast. “They can’t do that.”
“By this time, I’d met Jane, and she said they were using the lateness and the absences as an excuse. What was it she called it? Oh yeah, ‘constructive dismissal.’”
“Now that I can believe,” Mr. Tremmond remarked.
Doreen nodded. “Anyhow, she and Clare offered me a job. They said they really needed a cleaner about the place, and that I could bring the baby to work with me. It was like a gift! I started working at the house, and I was there until Jane died.” Her face flushed. “They were two wonderful ladies.”
“But…” Emily was confused. “How come I never saw you at the house?” Granted, her visits had been few and far between, but she felt she would have remembered them having a cleaner.
“Jane made sure I was never around when you were due to visit. I got the feeling they didn’t want you to think they couldn’t cope.”
Emily had to admit, that did sound like them. “And what about you, Ted?” He could only have been a few years younger than Jane.
“I used to have a very different life,” he said quietly. “I had my own company that I set up with a business partner. Unfortunately, he turned out to be the sort of man you couldn’t trust, and I ended up bankrupt. I lost my company, my home in the village….” He sighed. “Not how I’d pictured my old age. That was when I met Jane. She told me there was a little cottage that was part of the farmhouse’s estate.” Ted chuckled. “She wasn’t kidding. It might have been a gamekeeper’s cottage at one time, and it was tiny. But you know what? She brought in a bloke to fix it up, made it real cozy he did. And then she said I could live there. Well, by this point I was just starting out as a jobbing gardener. It kept me busy, and I was good at it too. Jane charged me a peppercorn rent, and put me to work tending to the gardens.” He smiled, his whole face crinkling. “It was a great job. Jane and Clare loved their garden, and as the years went by, I added more places for them to sit and enjoy it. When they mentioned they liked the sound of running water, I got out my spade and started digging.”
Emily stilled. “The benches? The pond? That was you?” He nodded, and she laughed. “That sneaky pair. They never let on that they had a gardener. And there I was, worrying that they were overdoing it.” Everyone around the table chuckled at that.
“I’m still flabbergasted, to be honest.” Fran poured herself a glass of wine. “I don’t really know what I did to deserve that bequest.”
“I do,” Mr. Tremmond said promptly. “You looked after them. You were the one who always picked up their medication from the chemist. You did the shopping. If they had problems
with the heating or the plumbing, or anything around the house, you made sure someone came their way who could help. You cared for them, and they appreciated everything you did. And don’t think they weren’t aware of what you were doing.”
Fran blinked. “Excuse me?”
Mr. Tremmond looked at her over his rimless glasses. “You were keeping an eye on them for Emily, weren’t you?”
Emily sighed. “Damn it. You saw through my cunning plan.”
Ted downed the rest of his pint. “I’d best be getting back to work.” Then he smiled. “That was real kind of them. I won’t deny it’ll make things easier. I can cut back on a few jobs, begin to ease down a little.” He shook his head. “God bless ’em.”
As he got to his feet, Emily held out her hand. “Thank you for all you did for them. I’m glad I got to meet you.”
Ted’s smile faltered, but he shook her hand. “And that, right there, is the difference between you and….” He flicked his head toward the door where Phillip had exited. “…’im. When I got to Mr. Tremmond’s office, he was already there. He never even bothered to ask me who I was, how I knew his mother…” Then he smiled. “Jane and Clare were always talking about you. When she knew you were coming for a visit, I swear, she was buzzing with excitement for a week beforehand.”
That knowledge did little to assuage Emily’s feelings of guilt.
Ted gave a nod to them, and then headed for the far end of the bar. As he passed Jake, the younger man greeted him and they talked. Emily did her best not to watch: Jake’s careful scrutiny had unsettled her.
“I must be off too. Maisie will be home from school by now.” Doreen extended a hand toward Emily. “I’m happy I got to meet you, Miss.”
“Me too.” They shook, and Doreen left them, walking in Ted’s direction. When she gave Jake a huge hug, both smiling, Emily wondered what was wrong with this picture. Then it hit her.
It’s the first time since I saw him at the funeral that Jake has smiled. What perturbed her was that she’d noticed.
“I’ll see you back at the house,” Fran said, rising to her feet. She winked. “After I’ve bought a couple of bottles of wine from Havers on my way home.” She bent down to kiss Emily’s cheek, and then straightened, nodding toward Mr. Tremmond. Fran slung her handbag strap over her shoulder and headed for the door.
“Actually, there is a matter I should mention before you leave.”
Mr. Tremmond’s grave tone caught Emily’s attention instantly. “Is there something wrong?”
He sighed. “Your cousin voiced the belief that it is against the law to disinherit a child.” He paused, and Emily’s stomach rolled over. “Certain recent changes in UK law may mean that he has a case if he does choose to contest the will.”
Emily stared at him, her chest tight. “But the house should go to him, shouldn’t it? I mean, he is her son.” Regardless of what she thought of Phillip personally, it still felt wrong that she should inherit.
Mr. Tremmond sat back, his fingers around the base of his sherry glass. “I know I’m not speaking out of turn when I say you know how Jane felt about Phillip.”
She nodded. She’d been about fifteen when she’d heard the story for the first time, and had reasoned later that Jane had waited until she’d been old enough to understand all of it.
Mr. Tremmond was nodding too. “When Jane told me what she intended to do with the house, I told her the new law would probably not allow her to do so. She glared at me, put her hands on her hips, and said the new law wasn’t set in stone, not yet, and that if it went to court, I had certain… evidence at my disposal to back up her demands.” A heavy sigh rolled out of him. “I hope it doesn’t come to that. It would make for very… unpleasant proceedings.”
Emily was dying to know what he meant by evidence. Then she realized what he referred to. “Then you still have it?”
Mr. Tremmond nodded. “It has been in my hands since Jane gave it to me, and bade me keep it safe.” He glanced toward the bar. “I need to settle up with Brian before we leave. I should like to continue our conversation, if you don’t mind.”
“I’d like that.” There was still so much that she wanted to know.
He eased himself out of his chair and walked slowly over to the bar.
Emily took another drink of wine and gazed out of the window at the village beyond. In that moment, the clouds broke, and weak rays of sunshine spilled over the green and its environs.
What came to mind was Jane humming a song as she hung out washing in the garden. A Beatles song. Emily smiled. “Here comes the sun…” she sang quietly.
The moment was broken when she realized she was no longer alone.
Jake Matthews was sitting beside her. “Do you have a moment now?”
Emily eyed him incredulously. “You’re persistent, I’ll give you that.”
“I’m sorry, but this is important.” Jake leaned forward. “I hear Jane left you the house and its land.”
She didn’t believe she was hearing this. “What business is it of yours?”
“I’ll tell you, if you’ll actually sit there long enough to hear me out, and not fob me off again.”
Emily narrowed her gaze. “Are you always this rude?”
“I prefer to think of it as being determined.” He flashed her a tight smile.
She got the feeling Jake wasn’t about to give up easily. “You have until Mr. Tremmond returns, so I’d start talking if I were you.”
He nodded briskly, the merest hint of relief showing in those pale blue eyes. “During the last few months, I was in discussion with Jane about buying some land from her.”
“Are we talking about the land that goes with the house?”
Another brisk nod. “Namely, a couple of acres down by the lake. She was going to sell them to me.”
Emily became very still. When was I last down there? She couldn’t remember. Then she stiffened. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Because I want to know if you’ll honor Jane’s wishes.”
She opened her eyes wide. “What wishes? This is the first I’ve heard of it. Was this in writing?”
“No, we didn’t get that far, we—”
“Do you mean, you expect me to agree to a sale that was never in writing? Who else knew about this?”
Jake paled. “No one. We were still discussing it when she… died.”
Emily had had enough. “You have nothing to prove any of this. No documents. No witnesses. And to be quite honest, I’m finding this whole conversation distasteful. We buried Jane a few hours ago, for God’s sake. The will hasn’t even gone through probate.”
“I know, and forgive me, but this is important. This is my livelihood we’re discussing here.”
Emily glanced over his shoulder at Mr. Tremmond who was walking toward them. “I have news for you. We’re not discussing anything. Your time’s up.”
Jake flinched as though she’d struck him. “I see. Thank you for your time, Miss Darrow.” He got up and walked stiffly toward the exit.
Emily sagged against the chair back. The nerve of the man.
“What did Jake want?” Mr. Tremmond stood beside her.
“Nothing worth discussing.” Then she had second thoughts. “Did Jane ever mention to you the idea of selling off some of the land?”
Mr. Tremmond frowned. “Three years ago, some developers approached her, with the aim of purchasing land to build a small estate of twenty or so houses.” He chuckled. “Jane gave them short shrift.”
Somehow Emily could picture that very clearly. “And that was the only occasion?”
“That I know of.”
An idea had begun to percolate: something Jake had mentioned had set thoughts in motion. “I have a big favor to ask you.”
“Ask away.”
“Could I… could I see the house?” There was an ache in her heart that she felt could only be eased by seeing the house she’d loved so much.
Mr. Tremmond’s manner grew hesitant. “U
ntil the will has been through probate, I have custody of the keys. I cannot allow you to simply go there.”
“Oh. I see.” It made sense, of course.
“But….” He smiled. “What if I were to accompany you there? Stay with you while you walked around the place? I cannot see a problem with that.”
Lightness suffused her body. “Would you? That would be wonderful. I just want to see it again.” If Phillip got his way, it might be her only chance. Emily wanted one last look at a place steeped in memories.
“Then let’s go. We can stop by my office to pick up the keys.”
She stood up, nodding eagerly. “We can take my car.”
I’m going to the house.
Chapter Five
It’s true then. You can never go back.
The house wasn’t the same. At first Emily couldn’t put her finger on what was so different, but as she walked through each room, it slowly dawned on her that an air of decay had crept in. Windows that had once been airtight, now let in drafts. Floorboards creaked with every step. Wallpaper and paint peeled with equal measure. And there was a smell about the place that hit you as soon as you walked through the door. An odor that hinted at dry rot.
How come I never noticed before? Had she been so blinded by her own problems that she simply hadn’t seen the state of the house? The last few visits had been hurried, that was true, but she couldn’t believe she could have missed so much. Then she considered what had been going on in her life. The pressure, the stress, the feeling that she no longer had a life outside of the company. All of that added up to one huge pair of blinkers.
What nailed it was the realization that she hadn’t seen Jane since before her stroke. I let her down.
Mr. Tremmond regarded their surroundings, shaking his head. “So sad. I watched her give up in the months following Clare’s death. Instead of taking care of the house, she… retreated into herself.”
Emily gazed at the paintings hanging on the walls. The times she’d spent, staring up at them as a child. Her grandmother, Rachel, had been an exceptional landscape painter, and her work was in virtually every room in the house, on the landing, in the hall….
Pulled by a Dream Page 4