‘I’ll never forgive him for what he did to Mum. He played around all his life. She never told you the half. Take my word for it, his so-called generosity is conscience money. That’s all it ever was. What do you fancy doing now? Pub?’
Ryan shrugged. ‘If you like. Too early in the season for the usual crowd to be down.’
Brother and sister walked the short distance to the village pub. A sea mist was blowing up, causing a chill dampness in the air. They pushed open the door of the public bar and walked into the warmth and hum of conversation. There was a sudden silence as the pair were recognised. The gossip had been buzzing all day.
‘Nice to see you again, Julia, Ryan,’ said the landlord Jim Willis. He always remembered his customers at the Miner’s Arms. ‘Down a bit earlier than usual this year. Sorry to hear about your spot of bother. Now, what can I get for you?’
‘I’ll have pint. What about you, Jules?’ Ryan asked.
‘Half a pint, please,’ Julia replied. She only ever drank beer when she was down here. It always seemed the right thing to do.
‘Have they identified the body yet?’ asked Jim, as he poured their drinks.
‘It seems likely that it … that he … was one of the regular vagrants. The Misses Smythe said they recognised the umbrella. Someone called Harry?’
‘I thought I hadn’t seen him around for a while. And did the Smythe sisters try to get you enrolled in their petition? Rehousing the vagrants and working hard to clean up the village.’
‘They did mention it,’ Julia smiled.
‘Quite a double act, aren’t they?’ Jim grinned. ‘God knows what will happen if either of them should kick the bucket without the other.’ He passed the drinks over and Ryan handed him a note.
They sat down at a table near the fire. There was no one in the bar they recognised. None of the younger locals had appeared and as Ryan had suggested, it was too early for most holidaymakers. After just one drink, they decided to leave and have an early night. Neither of them had slept much the previous night and the day had been traumatic to say the least.
‘We’ll see this Davies chap tomorrow, shall we?’ Julia suggested. ‘I don’t fancy finding any more bodies at the cottage. He might also know something about the burglaries.’
‘I suppose it couldn’t have been this Harry character? Doing the burglaries?’
‘Hardly. Myrtle at the shop didn’t think so. He was in his own paradise once he found the booze. Poor old thing. I wonder what his background was? Even tramps had to come from somewhere, once upon a time.’
Neither of them expected to sleep well. There was too much to think about. Ryan chewed over his own future. He knew his father despised him and he did not want to work in his father’s company. Granted, he had his degree, a modest pass, but it meant little or nothing these days. Without a decent chunk of nepotism, he’d stand little chance of a decent job and certainly not one that would pay for his current lifestyle. He could possibly rub along with his father, as long as they didn’t see each other too much. But for now, his sister came first. He had to help her through this, at least until she could come to terms with their mother’s death. He needed time to grieve himself, without his father despising him. Why was it always so hard to live up to one’s parents’ expectations?
In the next room, Julia was also lying awake. She knew she could never work with or for her father. She disagreed with everything he believed in, though she had the sense to realise that she had been dependent on her father for her way of life. What sort of job was she qualified for? She had a degree but had done nothing since leaving university. Her father had insisted she took a Cordon Bleu course, so, if nothing else, she could produce decent meals for the husband she would doubtless find someday.
Meanwhile, she had generally wasted time with friends in London. She had occasionally worked in the garden with her mother, just to give them an excuse to talk. In recent months, she had learned about their parents’ sham marriage. But she would never understand her mother’s philosophy of acceptance. Now, the mother she had adored was gone. Her sense of bereavement went deeper than she realised. Could she bear to stay here where there were so many memories?
If she did stay here, what could she do to earn a living? Even though they owned the cottage outright, there were still bills to pay. The small cash inheritance they had received, would go nowhere towards long-term upkeep of the place. Besides, she had to live and feed herself. Maybe she could get a job as a chef somewhere? What a prospect! Cooking from dawn to dusk every day. It could be a stopgap though, until she had decided on her future.
Ryan was finishing a huge cooked breakfast by the time Julia came down the next morning. The grumpy waitress informed her that the breakfast chef had gone off duty but she could manage some coffee and pastries, if that would do. Julia said she rarely ate breakfast and that coffee would be fine. The girl shuffled away and the brother and sister pulled faces at each other.
‘I’ve been thinking,’ Ryan began. ‘We’ll see the Davies character soon. Find out about his security. Once we’ve had a bit of a holiday, we’ll need someone to look after the cottage. When we go back, I mean.’
‘I shan’t be going back. I told you. I thought you realised I meant it. I’ll have to go and collect a few things but I shall certainly never live at The Gates again.’ She poured a cup of coffee from the pot which the waitress had dumped unceremoniously on the table. Her brother stared at her.
‘You can’t really mean it? Where will you go? What will you do? The old man will never keep doling out money if you’re out of his reach.’
‘I’ll get a job. I want to stay here, for a while. If you don’t mind, that is. The cottage is half yours. Maybe you’d like me to pay rent on your half?’
‘Don’t be ridiculous. But what will you do? I mean, you’ve never done a day’s work in your life.’ Ryan looked troubled. He’d never cope, left alone in the house with his father. But he could see that circumstances might make it necessary.
‘And just what do you think I was doing in Kenya? I cooked for a dozen people every day on camping stoves. I’ll become a chef.’
Ryan stared in disbelief. Was this really his sister talking? The one who could get through a whole month’s generous allowance on one trip to the West End?
‘Everyone wants a decent chef during the season. No problem.’
‘You’d never exist on what you’d earn.’
‘Don’t bank on it. We’ll go and see this Davies chap anyhow. He may have some clues about this insurance and robbery scam.’ Julia’s expression remained impassive.
‘He’s probably another Daddy in the making. Build up an empire and see where you can go from there.’ Ryan’s voice held a tinge of bitterness.
Whatever he actually wanted to do with his life had always been irrelevant to his father. His destiny lay with the family business, regardless of any of private, personal ambitions. He would never dare to breathe a word about his creative side. If his father even suspected his love of poetry, painting and books, Ryan would never hear the end of it. He tossed up between writing poetry or painting. After enduring Public School, he knew better than to let anyone know of this wish.
‘So, how do we find this Mr Davies?’ Julia asked, draining her cup.
‘Call in at the estate office, I guess.’ Ryan yawned. ‘I’m knackered already.’
‘Stress,’ Julia diagnosed instantly. ‘I’ll grab my bag and we’ll go.’
The estate office was situated quite near to the older houses which made up the Trengillyn Holiday Village. The complex had not been custom-built but was series of local houses purchased by Bryce Davies, almost before anyone knew they were being put up for sale. Many of the older residents had wearied of the constant coming and going of holidaymakers during the summer months and were only too pleased to sell their properties, as soon as he made an offer. This was usually below a fair market price but generally he managed to complete a deal before an estate agent was called in, thus c
onvincing vendors they were saving money.
The outer office was small and unprepossessing. There were a couple of plastic covered seats by the wall, and a small desk. A receptionist raised a bored glance as the Rentons entered. Lucy was the typical local girl, with a certificate of typing competence from the nearest college. An engagement ring on her finger, she was interested only in whiling away the weeks till her wedding. She was quite pretty in a way but clearly totally disinterested in anything going on in this office.
‘How can I help?’ she parroted to the visitors.
‘We’d like to see Mr Davies, please,’ Julia said politely.
‘Do you have an appointment?’ the girl asked automatically.
‘No. Do we need one?’
‘Mr Davies is a busy man. He only sees people by appointment.’
‘Then we’d better make one.’ Julia’s tone was brisk and business-like, in contrast to the girl’s bored responses.
‘He may be able to fit you in next week sometime, though I can’t promise anything. I’ll get his diary.’
Ryan looked at his sister and hesitated. ‘We can’t really wait, can we?’ he whispered.
‘Course not. She’s an idiot anyway.’
‘Looks as if there’s a possibility on Tuesday morning. Shall I pencil you in?’
‘Forget it. We’ll go elsewhere. Come on Ryan. We’ll have to go into Penzance after all if the locals aren’t interested.’
Ryan stared at her. He opened his mouth to say something but seeing her expression, he shrugged his shoulders and glanced back at Mr Davies’s guard dog. She smiled at him but thought better of it and went back to her tapping on the word processor. Just as the Rentons were leaving the office, the inner door opened. Bryce Davies appeared. He was younger than she expected. Early thirties maybe? Good looking and very smartly dressed.
‘Did you need any help?’ he inquired.
‘Apparently you don’t have a window until next Tuesday. We can’t wait that long,’ Julia replied curtly.
‘What’s it in connection with?’ he asked.
‘A property we own in the village.’
‘I see. Come right in,’ he said, opening his private office door. ‘Coffee for three, Lucy.’ The secretary gave him a look of pure hatred. The sooner she was out of this place, the better, she told herself.
Bryce Davies’s office was quite different from the reception area. Comfortable leather chairs formed a corner seating area. The low polished table in front boasted expensively produced brochures, advertising Trengillyn Holiday Village. His desk was large. The inevitable computer system was set at an angle, carefully positioned so that he could swing round to access it with the minimum effort. He motioned them towards the seats and sat beside them.
‘Bryce Davies,’ he said, holding out his hand. He held Julia’s hand momentarily longer than Ryan’s, smiling with a languid, suggestive gaze. She felt a slight shiver run through her body, wondering about its cause. Apprehension? Probably not.
‘Julia Renton and my brother, Ryan,’ she murmured, stressing the word brother, for some unknown reason.
‘Ah yes, the Rentons. I’d heard you were in the area.’
‘Really?’ Julia said incredulity evident in her voice.
‘Small village. News travels fast. Now, how can I help?’ Bryce continued.
‘We have a property. A cottage. Our mother has recently died and has left it to us, jointly.’ Ryan spoke for the first time, his voice sounding uncertain and hesitant.
‘You’re speaking of Crofters, I assume?’
‘Well, yes. How did you know?’ Julia was surprised.
‘I knew it would be. I know all the residents around here and I also heard about your problems. Sorry you’ve had such a poor welcome. Most unfortunate business.’ His eyes were gleaming, his glance flicking from one to the other of his visitors.
‘Yes, thanks. It’s all been rather traumatic. You know about the burglaries, I suppose?’
‘Bane of my life. I’ve put alarms in all my places and have even got closed-circuit surveillance cameras along the road. Not that they’ve been much use so far. I’ve lost a packet over it all. My insurance premiums have shot sky high. Bad business… Bad for the area.’ He shook his head, as if despair.
Why don’t I quite believe him? Ryan wondered.
‘So, you’re a victim too?’ Julia said grimly. ‘And the police haven’t been able to do anything?’
‘I expect you’ve met our highly esteemed local sergeant. Need I say more?’
‘Solutions in direct proportion to cups of tea? Yes. We know him. Kindly man.’
‘They’ve identified the body, I gather?’ Bryce asked casually.
‘They know he was a local tramp but not who he really was. They could only identify him by his umbrella and what some of the local characters could tell them. They assume it’s “misadventure”, whatever that’s supposed to mean. Pretty final, whatever they call it. Looks as though he drank himself to death. Some folks might consider that to be a rather pleasant end.’
‘Indeed,’ Bryce said. ‘Well now, Julia, how can I be of help? Are you selling the cottage? I could certainly make you a reasonable offer, once I’ve viewed it of course.’
‘We haven’t yet decided what we’ll do. I at least plan to live here awhile. We were interested in your security arrangements. You say you’ve been burgled despite the closed-circuit television. Don’t you have any idea who did it?’ Julia stared at his grey eyes and did not miss the flicker of discomfort that crossed his face.
‘Sadly, no. We assumed it was someone local. Someone who knows the routine for the holiday lets. We’ve interviewed all our staff and turned up nothing at all. The current favourite is a gang from one of the local towns. A systematic route round the holiday lets in the area. They know we put in plenty of equipment for the luxury end of the market and it gives rich pickings. We intend to leave the places clear of everything worth taking, once we get to the end of the season. Keep it in a more secure place. You know, I’d love to see your cottage and I can certainly make you a substantial offer.’
‘If we do decide to sell, we’ll be in touch,’ Julia said suddenly. Ryan stared at her. He had remained silent throughout the discussion, sensing that his sister could deal with these things so much better than he could.
‘Anyway, I’ll be pleased to help in any way I can,’ Bryce said with a smile. ‘Keep in touch.’
He held out his hand and shook first Julia’s and then her brother’s. As they were about to leave, Julia stopped suddenly.
‘You might be able to help,’ she began. ‘I’m looking for work in the area. As I said, I’m planning to base myself here.’
‘I’ll keep my eyes open. Exactly what sort of work are you looking for?’
‘Office work. Receptionist or something. Or maybe even a chef.’
‘Perhaps you’d like to come out for a drink one evening and we’ll discuss it. I’ll have a think and give you a call. Do you have a number?’ Julia gave him Ryan’s mobile number. She still had not replaced her own. He jotted it down on a pad. Ryan glared at her. He felt an instinctive dislike for the man. How she could even think of socialising with him?
The receptionist glared at them as they left. Ryan gave her one of his most charming smiles as he closed the door. The girl looked away. She hated this job and especially hated her boss. She could hardly wait for the end of the month when she could leave, ready for the wedding. She smiled as she thought of the dress she would soon be buying and the flowers and all the rest of the fuss she intended to enjoy to the full.
‘Stuff Bryce Davies and all his snobby visitors,’ she muttered.
Chapter Three
After the couple had left, Bryce called Lucy into his office.
‘I didn’t like the way you treated those two,’ he said sharply.
‘Dunno what you mean,’ she muttered. ‘You told me: “No appointment, no interview”.
‘You must learn to discriminate. Th
ere are times when it’s important for me to meet certain people. They could be very useful clients. They own a very important property and might be willing to sell with a bit of the right persuasion. I’ve told you, anything you hear about the listings in that area, I want to know immediately. I’ve got to get hold of anything and everything eventually, so use your common sense. If you actually have any.’
Lucy scowled. She was leaving soon and wondered how rash it would be to tell him to stuff his job right now. But she had committed to that beautiful wedding dress … far more expensive than she intended. Her Wayne was going to be over the moon when she walked down the aisle.
She grimaced and nodded. ‘Right you are. Anyone that looks as if they’ve got money, you want to see them.’
Bryce sighed. He couldn’t wait to be rid of this useless girl but if he sacked her she’d expect a decent package and he wasn’t prepared to offer her anything. Somehow, he needed to persuade her to hand in her notice … once he’d got a replacement. If the Renton girl was really looking for a job, maybe he could offer it to her. If he could get close enough, maybe he could also persuade her to sell the cottage. He had good reason for wanting to get to know her. He’d invite her for that dinner date sooner rather than later.
Julia was certainly an attractive girl. It would be a very pleasant task to take her out. Probably do him some good to be seen with a quality lady like that and besides, she’d be a handy contact. The brother was a bit of a misery but, from what was said, wouldn’t be around for long.
He pulled out his property portfolio and studied the local maps and his grand plans for the future. His business partner had given him carte blanche to buy anything he could. With such sound financial backing, their plans would make him rich. Very rich. He’d done all right for himself so far. A local boy made good in a big way but he was greedy and still wanted a great deal more than his lovely beach side home in the next village. He spent too much time working at present and wanted to buy himself time to travel. See the world and find himself a lovely woman. Julia Renton might just be the one. Maybe he could persuade her to give up her current plans and move in with him. That would be the solution to everything.
Dangerous Secrets Page 3