The Soulmate Agency

by Ivan B

  An acerbic looking woman with a sharply pointed nose and the minutest of chins swivelled her translucent green eyes onto Cameron. Cameron immediately felt like some sort of unwelcome garden pest. She wrinkled her nose, “Now that Riona and,” she gave a delicate pause, “her companion are here we can get started.” It was as if she’d been waiting for a loathsome child to come out of the loo.

  A portly bald-headed man sniffed and picked up a sheaf of papers, “This is the last will and testament of Lord Hardcastle…”

  Cameron whispered to Riona, “Who is everybody?”

  Riona wiggled in the pew and Cameron enjoyed the feeling of being beside her. She whispered directly into his ear. “Woman with green eyes is my stepmother, thick looking man next to her on the settee is her solicitor. Directly across from them the pale woman in the green dress is my aunt Hester and next to her is aunt Kitty.” Cameron surveyed the two women, who were obviously twins as they had identical high cheekbones and wrinkled brows; they even seem to fidget in the same way. Riona continued, “Bald headed bloke in the armchair doing the talking is Aubrey, my father’s solicitor and the ratbag of a woman dressed to kill in the other armchair is my step-mother’s daughter, Dervla Kingston-Yeal. Woman in the white blouse on the wooden chair is my solicitor, Fluffy.”

  “Who are the couple on the third settee?”

  “Mr and Mrs Almscott.”

  She didn’t explain who Mr and Mrs Almscott were as the balding solicitor had started to get to the interesting part of the will. He laid down his papers for a moment. “As you all probably know Lord Hardcastle’s will is a rather long and complex one and contains a large number of clauses to cover a series of eventualities. Rather than plough through the whole document I will take the liberty of just mentioning the clauses which currently apply.”

  He sought reassurance from Lady Hardcastle, who gave him the merest of nods. “I’ll deal with the tile first if I may.” He cleared his throat, “Due to the birth of Winston Yaxley to Mrs Yaxley who is the daughter of Mrs Katherine Jellow-Smyth, the full sister of Lord Hardcastle, the title of Lord Hardcastle will pass from the deceased Lord Hardcastle’s line to that of his sister Katherine and Winson.” He looked at the aunt, “Even though he is currently only three days old, he is now the next Lord Hardcastle.”

  Aunt Kitty beamed with delight, Riona’s stepmother frowned, she barked, “What of Jonathan, Dervla’s son?”

  Aubrey looked up, “I’m sorry your Ladyship, but as the previous Lord Hardcastle did not actually sign any adoption papers he cannot be the male heir to the title.”

  She barked again, “But it was his intention to adopt him, you yourself drew up the papers!”

  Dervla squirmed her over-dressed body further into the armchair and venomously added, “It doesn’t seem right that a three day old baby who was brought into the world by pre-term inducement should inherit the title.”

  The solicitor gave a very weak smile, “I’m sorry, but intentions don’t count and it doesn’t really matter how young Winston arrived on this earth, by law he is now the rightful heir to the title.”

  Her Ladyship snorted her full disapproval. The solicitor went back to his papers. “We now come to the material beneficiaries.”

  He cleared his throat as if he’d just swallowed a live honey-bee. “The bulk of the estate passes to Mrs MacLeod with the exception of certain…”

  “Who the hell is Mrs MacLeod!” Shouted the green-eyed aristocrat and the dreadful daughter in unison.

  Riona said in a quiet, but firm, voice, “Actually I am.”

  In the ensuing silence Cameron was sure that he could have heard a dust-mite drop. Her Ladyship’s mouth fell open and she stared at Riona as if it were her dying moment, which in material terms it partially was. Suddenly she regained her composure and announced, as if it were the end of the matter, “Has to be a legal marriage not a common-law marriage.” She vented her displeasure by emphasising the word ‘common.’

  Riona smiled like a basking shark, “Oh I really am married and to a real man in a real church by a real vicar and have a real marriage certificate to prove the point.”

  Her Ladyship went deadly pale, the solicitor decided to pick up his declarations. “The exceptions are: To Lady Hardcastle, the Cottage at Southwold and the Georgian Silver Tea-pot bequeathed to the family by the Earl of Dunreath.”

  Dervla virtually exploded, “A cottage and a teapot for twenty years of marriage!”

  Riona whispered to Cameron, “She gave the rest of the tea-set away to some aristocratic boot sale, father never forgave her for that.”

  The solicitor sighed and fixed the daughter with a stare, “I’m afraid that I’m only the messenger madam, please don’t shoot me.”

  He went back to his papers, “To John Butler, for good and faithful service, and to his wife, who has taken admirable care of my only daughter, while at times under great and undeserved pressure from my spouse, the rear gate house and the Jowett Javelin Motor-car John has so faithfully driven during his time in my service.”

  Riona chuckled and whispered, “The old goat, Dervla expected that gatehouse.”

  Aubrey ran his hand over his bald patch and read off a series of small bequest to people Cameron assumed to be other staff, finally he stared at the Almscotts, “And to Mr and Mrs Almscott Lord Hardcastle leaves his villa is Southern Spain, and the Deft pottery dinner service complete with matching tureens.”

  Lady Hardcastle’s solicitor stirred, “May I ask the total value of the personal estate?”

  Aubrey looked up, “As Lady Hardcastle called this meeting at short notice I am unable to give an exact figure, but the Lord Hardcastle’s personal estate is worth somewhere in the region of forty million pounds, and the family holdings, which pass along with them, are around three hundred millions pounds, the majority of which is tied up in overseas assets and companies.”

  Cameron suddenly felt physically sick – three hundred million pounds!

  Lady Hardcastle’s solicitor persisted, “But is it not the case that the family holdings can be shared out with the consent of Lord and Lady Hardcastle?”

  “That is true,” replied Aubrey dryly. “But as Lord Hardcastle is only three days old and Mrs McCleod now controls a 51% share such a division is doubtful.”

  Lady Hardcastle’s solicitor still wouldn’t give up. “And what actual proportion of the sum will be used for the declaration of death duties.”

  A wry smile sprang to the face of the bald solicitor, “As you would expect Lord Hardcastle has made maximum use of The Stately Homes, Royalty and Hereditary Peerages act of 2003, The 1721 Peerage Act, and various Companies Acts, to minimize such duties and I rather doubt that the total will amount to more than a few thousand pounds.”

  Lady Hardcastle suddenly gave a vicious smile and leant forward, “The caveats if you please.”

  Old baldy sighed, “As you are well aware Lady Hardcastle I doubt that his Lordship’s caveats are enforceable in law, but since you ask.” He consulted his file, “Caveat One is that if Miss Riona Hardcastle is married at the time of his death the estate should only remain with her if her marriage lasts for more than seven years, excepting widowhood, or following the birth of a male heir. Caveat Two works out as: if Miss Riona Hardcastle is married at the time of Lord Hardcastle’s death then Mrs Yaxley is at liberty any time until her son comes of age to forfeit the right of her son to be Lord Hardcastle for the sum of three hundred thousand pounds, in which case the title shall go to the husband of Miss Riona Hardcastle .” The solicitor paused and looked up tapping his file with a pair of unused glasses, “In my opinion that is legally possible, but would be a travesty of the Hereditary Peerage System and an unwanted use of what can only be termed as mediaeval precedents.” He resumed reading, “Caveat Three now reads as: Lady Hardcastle forfeits the right to the Southwold cottage should she contest the will, and Caveat Four: under no conditions will any of the horses currently owned by Lord Hardcastle’s estate be put down, excep
t for reasons of infirmity or unmitigated constant pain.”

  Silence once again descended on the room and Cameron could almost hear Lady Hardcastle grinding her teeth. Riona suddenly thwacked her sandals together causing everybody to jump and look at her. She spoke very softly, but with an assumed authority, to the assembled attentive audience. “As mistress of this house I ask that Lady Hardcastle retire to her new home in Southwold or to her personal estate in Sussex and that Dervla remove herself and her goods from the rear gate-house by the forthcoming weekend.” Her cut-glass accent, or as Cameron called it, her ice-glass accent, added weight to her statement.

  Dervla stood up and put hr hands on her hips, “But I’ve only just moved in, I’m not even unpacked.”

  Riona smiled and met Dervla’s eyes with a hard stare, “Then you will find it easier to move out because you won’t have to re-pack.” The tension between them was palpable.

  “Cow!” Screamed Derlva before she trounced out of the room.

  Her departure caused everybody to stir, the solicitor’s left, along with the Almscotts, all giving their commiseration’s to Riona and ignoring Lady Hardcastle. The two aunts then cackled at each other and walked past Riona, patting her on the shoulder as they went. Finally Lady Hardcastle rose to her feet and walked over to Cameron, she gave him a vicious smirk. “Seven years!” She snarled, “Murders get less.” She turned and strutted out the door as if she was about to attend a royal function.

  Riona’s solicitor stopped and mumbled something, Riona gave her a reassuring smile. “Promise we’ll talk next week, in the meantime you tell old Aubrey that you’re managing the estate now and to get his grubby fingers out of it.”

  She left and Cameron looked at Riona, “What’s between you and Dervla?”

  Riona flashed a smile, “She’s two years older than me and was head girl at my Swiss boarding school; she made my life a living hell.”

  Cameron looked around the room, it was probably larger than his entire parent’s shop; “I did hear right did I, you get well over three hundred million pounds?”

  She patted his shoulder, “It’s not ‘I get’, it’s ‘we get.’”

  She gave a bright smile, “Most of it is land or in trusts, vast majority is probably unspendable, but believe me I could go on a wonderful shopping spree.

  Cameron grimaced at the thought, he hated shops to a degree that was only superseded by people who smoked in restaurants. “Now what?”

  “Now we go and talk to the staff, follow me.”

  Riona led Cameron along the corridor, through a double-hinged doorway into a bare walled dining room with a large scrubbed table and an assortment of wooden chairs; it seemed full of people and as soon as they entered the murmur of conversation died away. Riona took natural command of the situation as Cameron tried to merge into the nearest door-frame. She waved a hand around, “Thought you’d all be here and by now you’ll all know the contents of my father’s will, probably better than I do.”

  There were smiles all round and it became obvious to Cameron that Riona had some sort of rapport with the staff. She glanced around the room, “First things first you’re all staying on.”

  There were smiles turned to smiles of relief. “Secondly let me introduce my husband Cameron, he’s a Scot, but I’m sure you’ll forgive him for that.”

  She started to go round the room and Cameron tried to memorise the people as she went, “John and Blanche Woodhouse you’ve met. This is Mrs Hammond (Wiry woman with stick-out ears), known as Cook to us all.. Mr Maurice Champ (Charlie Chaplin look alike dressed in casual green county-wear) keeps our gardens in immaculate order and the contractors under control. Miss Penelope Tunly (Piggy eyed portly woman stuffed into a frilly black dress two sizes too small) looks after our household matters assisted by Mrs Joan Greene (thin thirty-something blond with huge brown eyes and tremendously bony legs).”

  She turned to the last person in the kitchen, a diminutive young girl with unruly brunette hair, a spotty face and hearing aids in both ears, “And you must be Miss Howard who assists just about everyone here.”

  She nodded. Cameron shook hands with everybody, John coughed politely, “As you are aware madam, I said I would like to retire when Lord Hardcastle died and I’d rather like to do so.”

  Cameron blinked, was this man asking permission to retire? Riona patted him on the arm, “I know John, and you’ll be sorely missed, but don’t hide in the gatehouse, you know you and Blanche are always welcome here.”

  She turned to the Housekeeper, “What’s on the calendar?”

  “Nothing much madam, charity car-boot sale on lower meadow Saturday week and Annual Church fayre in three weeks time, Lady Hardcastle cancelled everything else.”

  Riona nodded and turned to go, Cook made a sort of clucking noise and Riona turned back, “Yes Cook?”

  “Do you intend to live here madam?”

  She glanced at Cameron, “I’ve not yet had time to discuss that matter with my husband, but we’ll let you all know before we tell anyone else.” She grinned, “Who knows I may even be able to beat the under-stairs’ gossip.”

  There were knowing smiles and she led Cameron from the room.

  Later, after an exquisite lunch of salmon pate with melba toast, Cameron looked out of the window at the fields that appeared to slope down to some sort of water feature. He sighed, Riona looked up from inspecting her mobile phone, “You alright?”

  He shook his head, “I’m sure when I woke up on Monday I was a poor bachelor living in a rented cottage and I can’t quite believe that I’m now married to a millionaire heiress and living in what passes for a stately home. I’m beginning to wonder if I’ve inadvertently slipped into a parallel universe.”

  She sat down next to him, “We can go back to your cottage if you want to.”

  He held her left hand with his right and examined the rings on her finger as if he’d never seen them before, “No, we’ll stay here, it just takes some getting used to.”

  He gently massaged her hand, “Excuse me asking, but where did all the money come from?”

  She squeezed his hand, crushing his index finger between her new rings and her thumb, “’Course you can ask. Ever heard of Krïndel?”

  Amazement crossed his eyebrows, “You mean Krïndel Chocolate, Krïndel Car-Hire, Krïndel Travel and so forth?”

  She nodded, “My great-great-grandfather started Krïndel Chocolate and it’s all grown from there. These days we just hold a large stake in the parent company. Father also had his fingers in many other financial pies as well, but Krïndel provides the bread and butter. The Almscotts and the solicitors, between them keep track of all the money.”

  There was a knock at the door and Howard the young maid entered clutching a dress covered in a plastic protective cover, she looked terrified. She virtually squeaked in terror, “Mrs Woodhouse said that while you were here I ought to act as your personal maid.”

  Riona gave her a glorious smile, “Annie isn’t it?”

  She nodded as if her head would come off. Riona continued her smile, “Well we shall not be staying here for the next few days, but when I return I would be grateful of your assistance.”

  Annie put the dress down and fled. Cameron almost held his head in his hands, “How on earth do I talk to your staff without scaring them half to death, and what on earth do I call them?”

  Riona tut-tutted, “Our staff. Call them what you like, you are the master here, but if you want to follow the easy convention they are all usually referred to by their surnames by each other and by you if your referring to them in the third person, except that Cook is Cook to everyone. When you talk to them directly I find it easier to use their first names although my father and my step-mother never did.”

  “You know them well?”

  She shrugged, “When I stayed here I usually hung about with them, my parents didn’t really want me around and it used to annoy my father no end.”

  He shook his head, “I can’t even remembe
r their names and I’m sure that I’ll make an ass of myself.”

  Riona laughed, “They’re all discrete, although they gossip fearfully amongst themselves, so you could run naked around the garden wielding a dead chicken and no-one would bat an eyelid.”

  They were interrupted by another knock and John delivered a cardboard box with a special delivery stamp on it to Riona and then turned his grey eyes onto Cameron. He droned, “While you’re her sir, would you like me to make myself available to you?”

  Cameron’s mouth fell open and no reply sprung to his lips. Riona patted John’s arm. “You know very well John that we’re not staying and you are retiring, but doubtless when we return Cameron would like to discuss with you a suitable replacement.”

  John smiled as if he’d won the lottery and left, once again Cameron had the idea that he had bowed before going. Riona offered Cameron the parcel, he opened it and his bushy eyebrows rose. He fingered the piece of Tartan inside the parcel and almost whistled, “This is top notch stuff,” he delved deeper and pulled out an expensive ceremonial dirk that had his clan crest engraved on the hilt as well as a ladies evening sash in the McLeod tartan. “Wherever did you get this?”

  “”Shop in Inverness, had it stuffed on the first plane to Norwich and then whistled round here. I thought that we were going to have a formal dinner this evening you needed the right stuff and I wanted to wear an evening sash, now that I’m a MacLeod.”

  Cameron examined the dirk closely and was far better quality than the old dirk he’d had since a child. He lifted her hand and kissed it. He was uncertain of what lay ahead, but he resolved to back up Riona as best he could even though he really wanted to run down the drive screaming for normality

  Chapter 32

  Formal Dinner