As he walked towards the house, he saw Craddock’s car parked outside.
Good! Craddock was home. His driver was giving the car a polish with a huge piece of chamois leather, slowly, almost lovingly, caressing the chrome on the bonnet.
‘Good morning, Ian, nice day for it.’
‘Morning. It is. Love of my life, this car, and it’s going today. Selling it, he is. If it’s him you’re wanting to see, watch your step; he’s not in a good mood. Anyway, it’s going and I’m reduced to driving a four-by-four from the farm.’
‘Whoops! That’s a bit of a come down.’
‘Too right.’ Ian turned back to the car to hide his feelings from Johnny. ‘Then it’ll be me being sold off, so to speak: driving himself, he says he is. Rotten driver, too. Thinks he owns the road and everyone should move out of his way. No patience, you see, none at all, worse since . . . well . . . yer know . . . ’aving to sell.’
‘I’ll watch my step. Thanks for the advice.’
His secretary was still there, her face lighting up like a Catherine wheel when she saw who it was.
‘Good morning, Sir Johnny, lovely morning.’
‘Good morning.’ He nodded his head towards Craddock Fitch’s office door. ‘Is he free?’
‘I feel really sorry for him this morning. It’s all getting him down, but yes he’s free. I’ll tell him you’re here.’
‘Thanks.’
She came back into the hall holding the office door open for him. ‘Please go in.’
Johnny tried hard to disguise the shock he experienced when he saw Mr Fitch. He seemed to have lost weight. Normally bristling with energy, he was sitting lost in thought, slumped in his big leather chair, his eyes downcast, fiddling aimlessly with a ruler.
‘Good morning, Mr Fitch.’
There was no response.
‘It’s Johnny Templeton.’
‘I’m not blind.’ Even his voice had lost its vibrancy.
‘Come to see you on business.’
‘Come to gloat, then.’
‘No, not gloat; that wouldn’t be gentlemanly.’ Instantly Johnny regretted using that word. It implied . . .
‘You’ll know all about that, being an up and coming fly-by-night from the seamier side of South American business life.’
Johnny was furious. ‘Not up and coming; we’ve arrived, my brothers and I. We own the largest and the best hotel chain in South America.’ He found he was trembling at the slur on his character, but his business brain controlled any further outburst.
‘So what are you doing here in this village, then?’
‘Taking up my inheritance. That’s why I’ve come to see you on business matters.’
‘You’re very like him. Same aristocratic nose from which to look down on everybody, same fair hair, same nut-brown eyes. God! I hated that uncle of yours. Got his own way about everything because of his title, and never needed to hand over a sweetener.’ Somewhat wryly he expanded on his statement. ‘Oh! No, not Sir Ralph! It would be beneath him. Not the action of a true gentleman. I expect your family persuaded you to come and take up your inheritance, did they? I bet their eyes glistened at the thought of a title in the family. Must have been very tempting.’
Johnny pulled out a chair and sat down, ignoring Mr Fitch’s anger at his familiarity. ‘They tried hard to dissuade me. Why go to a third-rate country; stay here where it’s all happening, they said!’
He thought Mr Fitch was going to explode.
‘Third-rate country! England! A third-rate country! How dare they. Us? A third-rate country! My God! What arrogance.’
‘From where we stand, it is.’
‘You’ll be saying next that you want to buy the estate!’ He peered at Johnny through screwed up angry eyes and realisation dawned. ‘My God! I’m right, you damn well do! That’s why you’re here. Blast you for your temerity!’
‘Yes, you are right, I am.’
‘I wouldn’t sell it to you if you were the last man on earth. I wouldn’t soil this hallowed place with a jumped up . . . with a jumped up . . .’ Lost for words he got to his feet and shouted, ‘Get out. Go on, out!’
Johnny calmly stood up and leaning his hands on Mr Fitch’s impressive desk he said softly, ‘You know where I live when you’ve reached the end and need my money. I’ll pay whatever price you ask, but don’t go to excess. I’m not a fool.’
Johnny went out, closing the door softly behind him. He’d seen desperation before in a strong man’s face and he’d seen it again this morning. His heart went out to the man. He sensed the shame of the collapse and that it was killing him from the inside and he sensed the fear. Poor old Fitch, now no longer the generous benefactor. Johnny clenched his fist and shook it at the sky. ‘Yes! Yes!!’ he said quietly so Ian wouldn’t hear. ‘See you around, Ian. It’s rather good fun driving a four-by-four. You might find you enjoy it.’
‘Not the same as driving the finest car in the district.’
Johnny stopped for a moment. ‘No, you’re right, it isn’t. Treat him with care. It’s a stupendous blow for him.’
‘You’re a gentleman, just like Sir Ralph. Did you ever meet him?’
‘Never. I wish I had.’
‘Lovely man, gracious you could call him. Yes, that’s right, he was gracious was Sir Ralph. No one has a wrong word to say about him. He’d have liked you, and you’d have liked him. I remember once he gave—’
Mr Fitch shouted from the front door as he emerged from the house, ‘I’m ready to set off, Ian. Right now. This minute.’
They left in a swirl of gravel and squealing tyres, leaving Johnny to stand alone admiring the house he hoped, no knew, would soon be his. That modern extension that housed the swimming pool would have to come down; how he’d ever got permission for it Johnny couldn’t begin to imagine – it was so ugly, so out of character. It must have been a sizeable sweetener to achieve that. The temptation to go back inside and persuade the secretary to take him on a tour of inspection was so great his feet took him inside again before he knew it.
‘I can’t show you his flat, you know. His wife is at home today. Half term.’
‘You mean he has young children?’ The surprise in Johnny’s voice amused the secretary and she giggled.
‘No! She’s the headteacher at the village school.’
‘Oh! Right, of course, I’d forgotten. I just want to see the historic parts.’
‘The whole building is historic.’
‘Of course yes, but the best bits, if you know what I mean.’
‘My name’s Anne.’
He offered his hand. ‘Call me Johnny, everyone else does. I haven’t got used to the Sir bit yet.’
‘You will, given time.’
The next ten minutes he spent filled with awe at the wonderful Tudor stairs, the splendid panelling, the lovely, gracious sitting room, kept just as it had been for hundreds of years with some of the original chairs and sofas still in situ.
‘These of course are priceless, literally. Mr Fitch had the upholstery renewed using the same design as the original, specially woven for the job. No expense spared.’
‘A house like this deserves that level of care.’ Johnny was overwhelmed with the beauty of the house and if anything he was even more determined to own it. A door opened somewhere. He heard quick footsteps and then a woman appeared. She had a kind of sparky determination about her and he knew she’d be straightforward, that there’d be no pretence with her.
‘Anne! Will you introduce me to your visitor, please?’ She must have been in her fifties, but you never would have thought it.
Johnny stepped in to explain. ‘It’s Johnny Templeton, we’ve met before, at the youth club. I’ve been to see Mr Fitch on business, and before I left asked if I could look round and Anne agreed. Sorry if we’re intruding.’
Anne began to apologise but was interrupted by Mrs Fitch.
‘How do you do!’ Her handshake was strong. ‘I remember you, of course.’
‘I
’ve just been speaking to your husband. He—’
‘What do you think of the house?’
‘It’s truly magnificent.’
‘It is, isn’t it? We shall be very sorry to leave it. Architecturally the one we are moving to is a horror, but beggars can’t be choosers.’
‘You appear more philosophical about the move than your husband.’
‘Anne, could you organise a tray of tea for Sir Johnny and me? Would that suit? We’ll have it in the flat.’
So Johnny saw the private sitting room and listened quietly to Kate Fitch’s explanation of the situation they found themselves in, while he sipped his tea.
‘Frankly not a single buyer in the whole world will please him. He pulled himself up by his shoe laces from nothing, literally nothing, every penny hard earned, and this house is his reward. He adores it. Who wouldn’t? Having to leave it is killing him. Eating him away from the inside, but it has to be done. It has to be sold to whoever. If it’s not to be ours then I don’t care what kind of Philistine buys it; at least they can’t pull it down or change it too much because it’s a Grade II listed house and there are rules.’ Every fibre of Kate Fitch’s body pleaded with him to answer ‘Yes’ when she asked after a pause, ‘Do you really like it?’
Johnny couldn’t frame the words to tell her how much he wanted it, couldn’t describe the deep yearning in his heart. All he could do was nod his head in agreement.
Kate Fitch said, ‘I can see your passion for it in your face. Don’t give up hope. He’ll fight you, but it’ll be so very right for you to own it; the house coming back to its rightful owner would be wonderful. I’m sure it would sigh with relief.’ She reached across and patted his hand. ‘Not a word to anyone about this. It’ll be our secret. Got to go, I’m needed elsewhere. What this house needs is children, then it really would come alive and be a real home, and it hasn’t seen one since Sir Ralph was born here, something like eighty or ninety years ago.’
Johnny stood up to say goodbye. ‘Thank you for finding time to talk to me. I love this house and there’s nothing I’d like better than to live here. I have the money to buy it; you have my word on that. If he’ll let me.’
‘Good, I’m glad. I’m sure I’ll see you again sometime.’ Kate Fitch saw him down the stairs and out of the door. Johnny loved that big front door; he loved it all. Every brick, every room, everything about the house and in his heart he made a vow that no matter how long he had to wait it would one day be his and Alice’s.
Johnny strode off down the drive, his head full of what he’d seen, imagining his brothers coming to visit, thinking about swimming in the lake, owning a dog or two, but most importantly about how Alice would feel living up at the big house.
She’d just got in from teaching when he got back. She looked strained and weary.
‘Sit down. What would you like, a cup of tea or proper coffee?’ Johnny asked.
‘Tea, please.’ She sat on the sofa in front of her log-burning stove and welcomed the warmth of it. They still hadn’t settled on which house they would live in. Johnny favoured his own that had once belonged to his uncle, but Alice preferred living in her own house, so Johnny was playing it cool and leaving her to make the final decision.
Johnny handed her a cup of tea, and sat down opposite her on the old chair that had been left in the house by the previous owners. ‘About where we live. I know you find it hard to believe, but I have pots of money. A disgraceful amount of money, which when we marry will be jointly yours and mine.’
‘Johnny! I’ve said before I don’t want loads of money; it’s too much responsibility. You keep it. You’ve earned it and—’
Johnny placed a finger on her lips to silence her. ‘Hush just for a moment and let me finish. Turnham House. I want to own what is rightly mine and I intend to live there.’ He was interrupted by a howl of displeasure from Alice. ‘Hush! Hush! I’ve spoken to Craddock Fitch this morning and he refuses to sell to me, turned me out in fact.’
‘Oh! Good, I’m glad he did. I’m a cottage person, not a lady of the manor person. I love my cottage!’
‘But that house is where I belong; I need to be there. I’m the rightful owner and he’s just an interloper.’
‘He paid for it and as far as I’m concerned he can keep it.’
‘We shan’t move there until after the baby has arrived. Alice, when the baby is here . . .
‘Just a minute! He’s refused to sell it to you, so that’s that.’
‘Yes, I know he has, but . . .’
‘But what?’
‘Someway or another I am buying it back.’
‘You can’t just snatch it back; he has to agree.’
‘Which he will in a while, when things get even more desperate than they are now.’
‘You don’t know Mr Fitch if you can say that. He’s a very determined man.’
Johnny laughed. Alice pouted, which made him laugh even louder. ‘Not nearly as determined as I am. I have the money; he hasn’t. His whole world has collapsed and whilst I’m not willing to take advantage of that and pay much less than the market price, I am prepared to put pressure on him to sell.’
Alice drank the last drop of her tea and as she placed her cup on the kitchen table she said, ‘Well, you’ll move in there by yourself then, because I’m most definitely not.’ She laid her head against the back of the sofa. ‘I’m so tired; please don’t mention it again. In any case, you can’t possibly have enough money to buy the estate. He’ll want millions.’
‘Actually I have enough and more.’
Alice’s eyes sprang wide open. ‘You haven’t! Have you really?’
Johnny nodded.
‘I knew you were wealthy, but I had no idea. Not that it matters to me, just so long as I have enough to feel secure . . . have you really got enough to buy the estate? Actually buy it?’
‘Yes, and to pull down that dreadful eyesore of a swimming pool extension. That has to go; it’s an abomination.’
Alice sat silently for a moment and then said with a smile on her face, ‘That big room with a fireplace at each end . . .’
‘Yes?’
‘That would be lovely with a grand piano in it.’
‘Yes, it would,’ Johnny answered, thinking she was warming to his idea.
‘But I still don’t want to live there. I’ve imagined feeding our baby sitting here,’ she patted the sofa cushion next to her, ‘on a cold winter’s night. Right here, with the warmth of the fire wrapping round us. Wouldn’t that be lovely? With you sitting where you are now, watching me and talking about your day.’
‘Considering Craddock Fitch’s hatred of me and my uncle Ralph, you probably will be, because it could take that long to get the finance sorted with him, even when he’s agreed to it. He’s a hard nut to crack is Craddock Fitch, but one plus is that his wife is on my side.’
Alice went on the alert. ‘His wife? Kate?’
Johnny was amused by her interest. ‘We had a cup of tea in their flat.’
‘In their flat? No one gets invited up there.’
‘I did. She wants me to buy it. The whole house, that is.’
‘She does? Has she said so?’
‘She has. Now look, you’ve not to get upset about it right now; you’ve enough on your mind without worrying about moving house. That’ll all come in time, when you’re ready for it.’
‘Johnny, what have I just said?’
‘Yes, I know, darling, but it won’t be for months yet, possibly even years, so there’s no need to worry about it right now.’
‘You are not listening to me. I don’t want to be the lady at the manor.’
‘Fine, fine. I shan’t mention it again. Honestly.’ Johnny, deep inside, was bitterly disappointed.
‘I’m all right as I am.’
‘More tea, Alice?’ he asked, as though he’d put the whole idea out of his mind. Which he hadn’t and didn’t intend doing. Somehow or other when the baby had arrived and she was more like her us
ual self he would bring her round to his way of thinking, because Turnham House was going to be his and his children’s. All he had to do was play the waiting game. He glanced across at Alice and saw she was almost asleep. He studied the beauty of her face in repose, loved her delicate, sensitive hands locked together over her bump and thought about the splendid music they created when she played the piano. His eyes lingered on her throat while he recollected her sweet singing voice. What a lucky man he was – lucky because all that rare passionate beauty belonged with him for the rest of his life.
Well, it would once the divorce had gone through. That damned Marcus with his overbearing ego, convinced the publishing world should be grateful that he had decided to grace their corridors. Johnny had looked up the publisher who’d taken him on and found it a very minor player and he’d laughed. He’d said nothing to anyone of what he’d discovered; he couldn’t be so cruel but . . . he smiled again at the thought.
Alice stirred and shuffled about on the sofa and then slipped into a heavier sleep. She slept for a whole hour, leaving Johnny to sit thinking about his beloved house and how he could persuade Mr Fitch to sell it to him. The man had all his sympathy, losing everything like he had. He knew how he’d feel if it was the hotel business about to sink into oblivion, everything he and his two brothers had worked for all their adult lives.
He became aware that Alice was waking up. ‘Feel better?’
‘Yes, thanks.’ Alice stretched elegantly. ‘You’re still thinking about Turnham House, aren’t you? I can see it in your face.’
‘I was thinking about Craddock Fitch and how I would be feeling if everything I’d worked for was swirling down the pan at this very moment. For a proud man like him that’s hard.’
‘You’re proud too, aren’t you?’
‘Regrettably, that’s something I suffer from just like him.’ Johnny smiled at her, knowing as he did so he hadn’t yet won her round to his way of thinking. And there was still Craddock Fitch to persuade.
But he would win. Eventually.
A Village in Jeopardy (Turnham Malpas 16) Page 13