Bay Tree Cottage

Home > Historical > Bay Tree Cottage > Page 9
Bay Tree Cottage Page 9

by Anna Jacobs


  She unfolded the top sheet of paper and spread it out on top of the others. It had been crumpled up, then smoothed out again, as if someone had nearly thrown it away. She read it aloud.

  To my daughters, Keziah Geddes and Abbie Turrell.

  ‘Geddes?’ Abbie looked at her sister. ‘Isn’t that your maiden name? Perhaps this was written a few years ago.’

  ‘Not necessarily. I kept that name even after I was married,’ Keziah said. ‘My husband hated that. And I registered Susie as a Geddes too, so that’s one thing I haven’t had to change since the rat scuttled away.’

  ‘Right. I see.’ She continued to read the letter.

  If the relationship between you is news, I’m sorry that you’re finding it out via a letter, but on the other hand, I’ve never been good with the spoken word, so maybe I can do it better this way.

  I gather that I am borderline autistic, so I hope you’ll have your children tested for that. Psychologists can help people with autism or Asperger’s adjust to society much better these days if they start when the children are young.

  I’m writing this in case I drop dead suddenly, and because I don’t have long to live whether I die suddenly or not. I’ve been diagnosed with heart trouble and things are getting worse rapidly. But I expect and hope that I’ll still have time to introduce the two of you properly before I die.

  My lawyer has my will, so you’ll need to see him as your first port of call. His details are listed in these papers.

  What my will amounts to is that I’m dividing everything I own into two, half for each of you. That seems the fairest way to do it. I think you’ll both find your inheritance more than adequate for your needs. I’m much better at making money than I am at dealing with people.

  I wish you well in your lives and hope you will do better with your personal relationships from now on. You’ve both had the chance to make one big mistake. Please don’t rush into anything from now on. I made two big mistakes and couldn’t find it in me to try again. I often wished that I had because life can be lonely.

  But still, this gave me two daughters in the end, not just the one I’ve always been glad of.

  All my love,

  George Turrell

  ‘How sad!’ Keziah said softly. ‘He didn’t even sign it “Dad”!’

  Abbie let out a snort of anger. ‘How like him!’

  ‘He couldn’t help it.’

  ‘If he couldn’t say it to our faces, he could have written before now to tell us about one another, don’t you think? This is a very lucid communication. Why didn’t he try writing to tell us earlier, for heaven’s sake?’

  And suddenly she was sobbing, rocking to and fro with the intensity of her feelings. ‘He should have tried, damn him! I didn’t get a chance to make it up before he died.’ She would always regret that.

  It was a while before Abbie realised someone was holding her close.

  Her sister.

  She had a sister now!

  She pulled back a little and they looked at one another.

  Keziah brushed wisps of damp hair from Abbie’s forehead. ‘He gave us one very important gift. I hope that you value it as highly as I do.’

  ‘Oh? And what’s that?’ But she knew really, just needed to hear the words before she accepted the gift, she didn’t know why.

  Keziah’s voice was gentle. ‘He gave us each a sister. Don’t pretend you aren’t as glad about that as I am.’

  ‘Oh, I am. You know I am.’

  And then they were both crying again, but this time these were healing tears and hugs.

  ‘Oh, what fools we are!’ Abbie said at last, blowing her nose and grabbing another tissue from the box to clean the smears from her glasses.

  ‘I won’t tell anyone if you don’t.’

  ‘There’s nothing to tell about you. I’m the one who fell apart. Anyway, let’s carry on with this stuff. What does the next paper say?’

  ‘It’s a list. The heading is: Things you need to deal with after I die.’

  Abbie covered it with her hand. ‘Let’s have a cup of coffee to help us go through it. I think I need a caffeine jolt to the brain to help me concentrate.’

  ‘I agree. I’ll put the kettle on. While it’s boiling, why don’t you phone the lawyer for an appointment? We need to see him as soon as possible.’

  ‘I have to register Dad’s death, too. Within five days, the woman at the hospital said.’ Abbie phoned the lawyer and when the receptionist realised what this was about, she was able to offer them a preliminary appointment the following afternoon.

  Keziah brought the coffee in. ‘Here. It’s only a cheap sort. That’s all I can afford.’

  ‘I can’t afford the fancy sorts either.’

  They sat and sipped, then Keziah asked abruptly, ‘Do you like your job, Abbie?’

  ‘No. I hate it. If Dad has left us anything worthwhile, I’m giving that job up and buying a B & B in the country, or whatever else I can find that will give me a more peaceful life.’

  ‘What exactly do you do that’s so bad?’

  ‘I’m a general office dogsbody because I can’t work full-time on account of Louis, so I do whatever they consider necessary, like the minor computing stuff entering the accounts, filing papers – there are still a lot of papers to deal with even in a digital age – not to mention going to the post office, relieving the receptionist, picking up the lunch orders and so on. Boring, but at least it’s still necessary to have a human to do those things. And of course, whatever we do today, I have to pick up Louis from after-school care at four-thirty.’

  Her phone rang just then and she frowned as she answered it, not recognising the number.

  ‘Abbie Turrell.’

  A man’s deep voice said, ‘Emil here.’

  ‘Emil?’ For a moment she couldn’t think who that was.

  ‘Emil Kinnaird. We met yesterday when I took you to pick up your son.’

  ‘Oh, yes. I’m sorry. Things didn’t register very well yesterday, given the circumstances. I think I was in shock.’

  ‘Perfectly understandable. I’m glad I’ve caught you. We have some of your father’s things at the office, and of course, we owe some money for his unpaid wages and holiday pay. Are you the heir?’

  ‘My sister and I are joint heirs.’

  ‘Sister? George didn’t list anyone but you as his next of kin when he started working for us.’

  ‘It’s a long story, but I have a sister I didn’t know about because he didn’t know about her either until recently. We are, apparently, joint inheritors.’

  ‘Is this causing you trouble?’

  ‘No. She’s great. And it’s nice not to have to cope alone.’ She realised she was confiding too much and was surprised at herself, but he was so easy to talk to.

  ‘Then it might be useful for you to have the money owing to your father now.’

  ‘Yes, I suppose it might.’ It’d be a godsend but she wasn’t going to admit that.

  ‘OK. I could drop it off with your father’s possessions later today or in a day or two, whenever best suits you both. You must have a lot to do, so I’ll fit in with you. And I meant what I said: if I or anyone from our company can help with anything at all, you only have to ask.’

  ‘I’m fine, but thanks for the offer. I’ll take your phone number and let you know when it’ll be convenient to bring everything round. Just a minute.’ She entered his phone number, said, ‘Thank you for your call,’ not waiting for his response.

  She explained to Keziah who had just phoned and what he’d offered, then looked round. ‘I haven’t been here before. I gather Dad only moved in a few months ago. He let Mum know his new address and she told me. But I was stupidly angry because he didn’t contact me directly. Um, how many bedrooms are there?’

  ‘Three, four if you count the office. It’s quite big for a flat.’ She cocked her head on one side. ‘Are you thinking what I am?’

  ‘Yes. Would you mind me moving in with you?’

>   ‘Not at all. I’d like it.’

  ‘Could you show me round?’

  But before they could make a start, Abbie’s phone rang again. Due to a cancellation, her father’s lawyer could fit them in for half an hour at twelve o’clock if they could get to his office on time.

  ‘We’ll be there. Thanks.’ Abbie looked at Keziah. ‘Oh, sorry. I’m so used to doing things on my own, I didn’t think to check that with you. Are you all right to go round to Mr Corshaw’s rooms at noon? There’s a cancellation. I know Dad said we inherit jointly, but the sooner we confirm that officially the better, don’t you think? We’re going to need some money to pay for everything.’

  ‘Yes, I can come. I’ll have to take Susie with us but she’s usually good when we’re out, especially if she can have her crayons. I’ll give her a quick snack, then it’ll only take me a few minutes to get ready. If we go in my car, I’ll have her child seat.’

  She looked at Abbie. ‘Oh. There’s Dad’s car to deal with too. Why didn’t we remember that? Perhaps your Mr Kinnaird could have it brought round?’

  ‘Yes. Good idea. We’ll phone him after we get back.’ She frowned. ‘And why didn’t he mention it?’

  After Emil put the phone down he looked round the office and grimaced. It was a dingy place. They really needed better premises than these to make it the regional headquarters. He was surprised that business was increasing but apparently some people preferred to arrange their insurance face-to-face and lots of customers were just walking through the door.

  He didn’t intend to spend another night in that horrible little bedsitter, either. He’d go and look for a hotel.

  With a feeling of relief, he locked up and went out to explore the town.

  He found a small hotel, lugged his things upstairs and lay down on the bed for a rest. He didn’t wake for a couple of hours. He grabbed something to eat and went back to the office, feeling guilty to have left it shut without an explanatory sign.

  Fortunately, only a couple of people popped in and he found brochures for them to take away and study.

  It was a relief when the afternoon ended, and he could go back to the hotel.

  The following morning, Emil felt a lot better after a good night’s sleep and a hearty breakfast. He opened up the office and it wasn’t long before the doorbell tinkled.

  A woman came in and looked at him. ‘You must be Emil. I’m Jenny Dalby!’

  ‘Oh! Sorry. We’ve spoken on the phone a few times. Am I glad to see you!’

  She gave him a sad smile. ‘I heard about George’s death and thought I might be needed.’

  ‘You are. What about your holidays, though? You’re not due back for another week, according to the records.’

  ‘My husband is ill so we couldn’t go to Cyprus as we’d planned. After what’s happened with poor George, I thought I might as well come into work and see if you needed a hand. I can take the rest of my holidays another time, if that’s all right with you. I know “staycations” are becoming popular but I’m not one to spend my holidays at home.’

  ‘That’ll be such a help! I can’t thank you enough. You couldn’t come full-time, could you?’

  ‘Happy to. I’ve been wanting to work full-time since my youngest son left home and George promised I could do that as soon as the office was reorganised.’

  ‘Yes. My father mentioned that too. If you’re still interested, you can start full-time from now onwards. Would you be all right to manage the office? I don’t know enough about it yet and I have other things to do, like finding somewhere more permanent to live.’

  ‘Happy to. I’ve been working here for years and I know the job backwards.’

  ‘That’s great. And since you’ll be managing the office, we’ll pay you at a higher level, of course.’

  She looked delighted, flushing slightly. ‘Thank you. You don’t often get rises without applying for them.’

  ‘I’m sure you’ll earn it. Turrell always spoke well of you. I wonder …’ He hesitated, then beckoned to her to follow him and went into the manager’s office. ‘Look, can you hold the fort from now on, do you think? Hire a temp to help you, if you need one. I’m still recovering from a major operation and I need to take it easy sometimes.’

  ‘Yes, of course. I’ll be fine. I’ve taken over before when Mr Turrell was away.’

  ‘Thank goodness! Now, I was going to use the bedsitter on the top floor but it’s a miserable place and I’m not even sure it’s safe. I spent half last night waiting for an emergency electrician after the power cut out, and he said the place needed rewiring.’

  ‘Mr Turrell was actually looking round for new premises. I can give you the name of the estate agent he was dealing with, if you would like to look that over at the same time as hunting for a place to live.’

  ‘Good thinking. If I can’t find myself a flat straight away, I’ll stay on at the hotel. I’d go mad in that nasty little bedsitter, anyway.’

  ‘You’ll probably have to sign a lease for several months to get a flat.’

  ‘Doesn’t matter. I’m planning to stay in the area for a while. I really like Wiltshire.’ A quiet year or two was what the doctor had ordered. Emil had only told his parents why and they’d promised to keep it to themselves.

  The estate agent was all over him when he found out Emil wanted a good-quality flat as well as new and bigger business premises.

  ‘There is, as you must know, Mr Kinnaird, a general shortage of rental accommodation, but if you’re prepared to pay a higher-than-average rent, I’m sure I can find you something suitable.’

  A woman at the next desk called across, ‘There’s The Quartet. Two of the flats have just been refurbished and are ready to rent. I was going to list them this weekend.’

  ‘How soon can I see them?’ Emil asked at once.

  ‘I’ll contact the owner as soon as I can get hold of him, then get back to you. All right?’

  ‘Yes, please.’ He turned back to the man he was dealing with about new business premises.

  ‘I can show you one place this afternoon, and another next week.’

  ‘Good.’

  Emil smiled as he walked out. Life seemed to move at a slower pace here and he liked that. He wanted a place of his own more quickly than he needed the new business premises, but the hotel was comfortable. He could wait.

  Chapter Ten

  Warren got back to Saffron Lane just before dawn the next morning and didn’t wake up till nearly noon. Even then he didn’t feel like getting out of bed. He yawned and stretched. It was nice and quiet here. He’d enjoy that.

  Then he realised that what had woken him was someone knocking at the front door. ‘Damn!’ He was tempted to leave it unanswered, but it might be Angus Denning come to see how he was settling in, and he didn’t want to offend the man whose largesse was going to support him for the next few months.

  He went across to the window and yelled, ‘Coming!’

  It was only when he looked round for his dressing gown that he realised he’d slept in his clothes. He remembered falling into bed and nothing till now. He rolled his eyes at his dishevelled reflection in the bathroom mirror, then shrugged and ran lightly down the stairs.

  To his disappointment it was Mrs Denning at the door. He didn’t like being fobbed off with underlings, hoped that hadn’t shown in his face. He tried to summon up his smile, but it never worked until he was fully awake. ‘Sorry to keep you waiting. I was asleep. Did you need something?’

  ‘I’m so sorry. I didn’t realise you’d still be in bed.’

  ‘I had the chance to borrow a friend’s van overnight so I didn’t get much sleep. But using that to move meant it only cost me the petrol.’

  ‘I see. Well, I thought I should check that everything is all right in the house, all the kitchen equipment working and so on.’

  ‘I’ll have to let you know about that once I’ve used it.’ He couldn’t stop himself yawning. ‘Sorry. I think I’ll go back to bed for another snooze.
I’m knackered.’

  He left her standing at the door, couldn’t be bothered to chat, was never at his best till he’d had at least two cups of coffee.

  Nell was amazed when Cutler closed the door in her face. Frowning, she stepped back from it. How rude! When she looked sideways, she saw Elise beckoning from the next house.

  ‘Fancy a cup of tea or coffee, dear?’

  ‘I’d love a cup of tea. You make particularly good tea.’

  ‘I never buy the cheap brands, that’s part of the secret.’

  Nell followed Elise into the house and found Ginger sitting in the kitchen. The genuine smile she received was such a huge contrast to the scowl with which Cutler had greeted her that she suddenly wished they’d chosen this woman. Which was silly because they had to be strictly commercial about this whole project. But each time she reminded herself of that, she felt less convinced than before that they’d made the right decision.

  ‘You look a bit upset, dear.’

  Elise looked concerned rather than nosey so Nell didn’t try to hide why. ‘I went next door to welcome Cutler to Saffron Lane but I woke him up and he wasn’t in the best of moods.’

  She explained about having the door shut in her face, feeling indignant all over again. They both looked shocked.

  ‘I told you I didn’t like him,’ Elise said. ‘I haven’t spoken to him since he moved in. He arrived late last night, didn’t even give us the courtesy of a quick knock when he arrived to say he was here and drove off again after he’d unloaded.’

  ‘I heard him return about five o’clock this morning,’ Ginger said. ‘He seemed to trip over something and cursed rather loudly.’

  ‘Well, he definitely doesn’t improve on acquaintance, does he?’ Nell studied Ginger covertly as she sipped her tea. Elise’s idea about an alternative offer of a job for her lodger might be worth following up on.

  ‘I’m having a quick check of Number 1 before I go back to the big house. Do you want to come and see the house, Ginger? It’s very interesting. There’s a secret room that was set up for communications backup during World War II in case the Germans invaded. I think its records must have got lost because it was unknown and untouched until an expert we were using to check the houses found it.’

 

‹ Prev