On the drive home Seranne and Babs compared notes. ‘There’s a cracked window in the kitchen and in the bathroom,’ Seranne reported. ‘The curtains in the café need a wash and the cheap, carelessly laundered tablecloths are a disgrace.’
‘The faulty heater in the café seriously needs attention,’ Babs warned. ‘And the kitchen wouldn’t pass your inspection or mine. Crumbs and flour on the floor and piled up in the corner as though it hadn’t been properly cleaned for days. A haven for mice and creepy-crawlies.’
‘What can I do?’
‘Wait a while. I can’t imagine your mother spending much longer sitting about being “spoilt” by Paul, who’s a bit of a creepy-crawly himself, don’t you think?’
‘Perhaps I should come home.’
‘A better idea would be to get your mother involved. She doesn’t seem aware of the state of the place.’
‘He seems to have changed her completely. Love is said to be blind, but surely she can’t look around and not see what happened to her once beautiful tea rooms?’
‘I’ve never understood that saying, unless it means that a person needn’t be beautiful to be loved.’
‘If Paul doesn’t have a job, what are they living on? The café can’t be taking enough to pay Pat Sewell and give them enough to live on. He must be using my mother’s money. Money left to her by my father. Blind? She has to have gone crazy if she can’t see what he’s doing!’
Neither mentioned the closeness of Paul and Pat Sewell when they had made their unexpected entry. Seranne because she was desperately trying to persuade herself it was nothing important and Babs because she believed it was.
Seranne was thankful to return to Badgers Brook and allow its serenity to calm her mind and help her to put aside worries about which she could do nothing.
Tony and his father went to see an architect about building a new bake house. The money they had been putting aside, together with a small mortgage was enough for the large premises they envisaged and they were excited. As a family firm, the bakery was jointly owned by the four of them and with a majority of three out of four, they could at least start the process before trying once again to convince Babs that it was the right way forward.
Keeping her unaware of their plan was underhand and dishonest, but after many harsh battles in which Babs stoutly defended the principles laid down by her grandfather that small and reliable was better than risky adventures, she remained adamant that nothing should change. Tony and his parents eased their troubled consciences by assuring one another that, once there was something definite to show her, Babs would understand.
Her father and Tony were in the habit of going out in the evening for a drink before returning at eight, and she had been unaware of their lengthy discussions. Now, as she worked at the café and no longer drew a wage, they found it easy to talk and meet the accountant and the planning officers; the preparations were well in hand.
Betty and Alun kept Ed and Elsie’s guest house running, as well as managing the Ship. It meant rising early and working late and using every spare moment between opening times and deliveries to go and attend to guests. Laundry, bed-making, shopping and cooking were all dealt with by staff but on days off and when someone was sick, they coped between them. It went on and on and there was no sign of Elsie being well enough to return home. That meant Ed being at the hospital during visiting hours and between times he seemed incapable of doing anything to help.
Alun didn’t complain and Betty was grateful. ‘I know it sounds hard,’ she admitted, ‘but the business will be Ed’s when Elsie passes away and I have to keep it running efficiently for him.’
‘I understand that,’ Alun said.
‘But it’s for my brother and you shouldn’t be landed with all this extra work.’
‘You’re doing it for Ed,’ he said with a smile. ‘I’m doing it for you.’
‘Thank you.’
He shrugged away her thanks, then looked at her with concern. ‘You look worried and you haven’t see Elsie for a couple of days, so why don’t you go and see her this afternoon? Go straight after we close at two o’clock and I’ll see to the clearing up.’
Betty found Elsie in a bed with the sides pulled up and she looked so small and pale sleeping in what looked like a baby’s cot, that Betty felt great pity. She had not approved of her brother marrying Elsie Clements, because she had not revealed how ill she was until it was too late for Ed to back out. He told Betty he hadn’t wanted to cancel the wedding, but it was impossible for Betty to forget how Elsie had lied.
There were visitors at most of the beds, but the place was very quiet. The only sounds the subdued voices, the distant tapping of nurses feet as they went about their tasks and the rattling of paper as gifts of fruit and sweets were handed over. Heads nodded as she went in but there were no cheerful greetings from the few people she recognized, the ward was hushed by grief and despair.
Ed was dosing in an armchair nearby. He woke when Betty approached and whispered, ‘She seems better today, but she’s sleeping a lot, so if you can stay a while, I’ll go home and get changed and see if anything needs doing.’
‘Everything is all right but I’ll certainly stay with her and give you a rest.’
‘I don’t want a rest from my wife, as you put it!’ he hissed irritably. ‘I just want to go home and change then I’ll get back as fast as I can.’
‘Of course. I didn’t mean that to sound like it did.’
‘You don’t have to pretend. I know you’ve never been happy about my marriage. But I’ve been happy. Elsie has made every day a wonderful experience. You wouldn’t understand about loving someone, would you?’
His harsh voice and the unkind words hurt, but she said, ‘I’m sorry. For goodness sake, Ed, I’m doing all I can and Alun too. Just go and see how well we’ve looked after things and stop picking a fight!’ Elsie stirred but settled again. ‘Go on, and for goodness sake take your time. There’s no rush,’ she said, patting his arm to show her brief irritation was spent.
Alun had lent Ed his car and as he drove home, Ed was thinking about how he would manage if Elsie didn’t come back home. It was easier when she was there even though she did practically nothing. She sat in her chair or in bed and managed the place, giving instructions and reminders, and praise. She was in charge and nothing was forgotten.
Spending so much time going to and from the hospital and not having her there when he got home was distorting everything and making the hours race by at times and at others seem to drag so he stared at the clock, willing it to hurry, waiting to leave for the hospital instead of catching up with some of the work. Betty would cope. She had never understood about Elsie, but she’d cope.
Elsie had been ill for all of their time together but he loved being with her. When her time came, he silently promised that the guest house would continue in exactly the same way as she had always run it. The business could afford an assistant and the cleaner could do extra hours. The rest he could manage. Betty was always there and she’d support him until he had learnt to cope without Elsie. Betty had time to spare and she loved being needed.
At the hospital Betty sat watching Elsie sleep. A nurse came and asked if everything was all right.
‘How is she?’ Betty asked. ‘Will she be coming home again soon?’
‘You can never tell of course, but she is very ill.’
After the nurse had checked the patient was comfortable and left them alone again, Betty moved and stretched. Elsie reached out through the rail of the bed and Betty held her hand. The grip tightened and then relaxed. It was several minutes before she realized that Elsie had died.
The nurses came and drew the curtains around the bed and after a few minutes they took her away. Betty walked up and down wishing Ed would come. She telephoned the guest house and the Ship but there was no reply. Then, when she tried the guest house again, desperate to see Ed and tell him the sad news, it was Alun who answered. ‘I’ll go and find him,’ he promised.
‘Wait there and we’ll come and join you.’
Ed had taken Betty at her word and taken his time. Elsie would be pleased to see someone different when she woke. It would be a nice change for her to talk to Betty. He went through the house making sure everything was neat and orderly and checked that the kitchen was prepared for late-night drinks. Betty was so good at organizing. Perhaps she’ll continue to come when Elsie came home? he wondered. She had Alun to help out and running the pub wasn’t that hard. He was the one who’d need help. Elsie would need all his time, some spoiling, being reminded how much she was loved.
He went to have his hair cut and stayed for a chat with a few friends, before going back to the guest house to collect the few treats he had bought to take into the hospital. The phone rang as he was leaving, but a glance at the clock reminded him of how long he had been away and he ignored it. If it was important they would ring back. He didn’t think it would be about Elsie. She was sleeping and would have Betty for company when she woke. And he would be back with her very soon.
He went to the shops and paid for his newspapers and put in the order at Mrs Harvey’s grocery shop, then drove back to the hospital.
When he walked into the hospital he saw Betty and knew at once that the worst had happened.
‘I’m so sorry, Ed,’ Betty said.
‘Why wasn’t I with her?’ he wailed ‘Why did you tell me not to rush back?’
Betty sat him down and let him rage about the unfairness of it all. She had phoned Alun again and told him she would wait until the first stage of the procedures had been dealt with, then drive her brother home.
Ed was numb with grief and was unable to gather his thoughts. She drove him back to the guest house where the young cleaner had kindly waited to see how she could help.
‘I have to go, Ed,’ Betty said. ‘We have to open the bar but I’ll be back as soon as the first rush is over.’
‘Yes, you go. I’ll have to manage, won’t I? My Elsie’s dead but you have to open the bar!’
She ignored the petulance in his voice and with relief, drove back to the Ship – and Alun. When she reached home, Alun said nothing. He just put his arms around her and held her. He rested his cheek on her head and once or twice, kissed her forehead. She was so grateful for his strength and comfort she didn’t move for a very long time.
The following days went in a blurr of activity and phone calls as arrangements were made. Betty and Alun told the staff to refuse further bookings at the guest house for the following two weeks and Ed stayed there alone. He made it clear he didn’t want people coming in offering condolences.
‘They didn’t bother with her while she was alive and you hardly bothered even when she was in hospital, so why should I have to listen to false sympathy now?’
He told everyone he wanted a quiet funeral and only a few ignored him and went anyway. Elsie had been unable to go out for several months and even before that her social activities had been seriously curtailed. Friends had lost touch, there was no family, and it was only a few neighbours and business people who followed the coffin that day. Even fewer went back to the guest house where Betty and Alun had provided a meal and at nine o’clock that night they left Ed alone as he had requested, and promised to call the following day.
‘Is there a will, d’you know?’ Alun asked, as they walked home.
‘Hardly likely. With Ed as sole beneficiary, Elsie probably didn’t bother.’
‘It makes things a bit easier, that’s all.’
‘I hope having the business to run will make things easier for Ed. He’ll have to get on with things. There’ll be no time to sit and mope or dwell on his grief. That must be a good thing.’
‘We’ll have to step back and not encourage him to depend on us too much. He’s been running the place practically single-handedly for months and we mustn’t make him feel unable to cope now Elsie’s no longer there.’
Betty shrugged. ‘I know I wasn’t pleased when he married Elsie but now I’m selfish enough to be relieved that he has the business, and a life of his own.’
Silently Alun agreed.
CHAPTER SEVEN
A few days after the funeral of Elsie Connors, Ed received a letter from their solicitor, Mark Lacy. When he opened it, presuming it would be something confirming his ownership of the guest house, he stared at the few short sentences with casual interest. It simply asked him to go and see Mr Lacy, and Ed phoned to make an appointment. Although he didn’t expect there to be any complications, he was still distressed by the death of Elsie and he asked Betty to go with him. ‘In case I miss something he tells me,’ he explained. ‘My head isn’t clear at the moment.’
Alun willingly agreed to deal with the morning preparations for opening and with Betty driving, she and Ed – still wearing mourning black – set off.
‘This will be the final hurdle,’ Betty said. ‘After this you can make arrangements for the help you’ll need and things will settle down. I’ll be there to help with any problems, although I don’t think you’ll meet any. After all, you’ve run the business on your own for a long time now.’
‘I haven’t. Not really. Elsie was ill but she was still in charge. I don’t know anything about the accounts, she kept hold of all that.’
‘It can’t be difficult. Poor Elsie didn’t know she was going to leave you so soon or she’d have shown you everything,’ Betty said, although she was puzzled about Elsie’s reticence to allow Ed to deal with the business side of things. He booked people in and managed the manual work, so why didn’t he share the rest? ‘It can’t be easy to face the fact of your imminent death,’ she said comfortingly. ‘I’m sure she’d have involved you if she’d known. Perhaps there’s a note with the will.’
‘I don’t think she left a will.’
‘Don’t worry, the solicitor will sort it out. As her husband you’ll inherit everything. It’ll take a little more time, that’s all.’
The solicitor’s office was above a shoe shop with an entrance at the side, but its importance showed in the well-painted door and the highly polished brass plate and door knocker. Ed rang the bell above the solicitor’s name and walked up to where they found the door open and Mark Lacy waiting for them, hand out in greeting. He seemed nervous but when they were seated and he was behind his enormous desk he seemed more at ease.
‘Firstly, let me tell you how sorry I am to hear about your loss,’ he began. Then the nervousness returned and he seemed unable to face them. He looked down at a document in front of him, smoothing it out, patting it, then said, ‘You are aware of course, that your wife left a will?’
‘No, I didn’t know,’ Ed replied, ‘but it must have been before we married and our marriage would cancel it, wouldn’t it?’
‘The will was made a few weeks after your wedding, Mr Connors and your wife assured me you were aware of its contents.’ Mark Lacy patted the document again. ‘I was told that you knew and understood.’
‘Understood what?’ Ed stood up and tried to look at the piece of paper in front of the solicitor and Betty stood with him and held his arm. ‘Tell me for heaven’s sake. She left a few gifts did she? That isn’t a surprise, she was very kind. There was no need for her to tell me about them.’
‘The guest house will be easily transferred to my brother, won’t it?’ Betty asked. ‘No problems with that, is there?’
‘The guest house is left to Mrs Connors’ niece, er …’ He was nervous and pretended to check on the paper. ‘A Mary Anne Crisp.’
‘But – but – I thought, as her husband – who is Mary Anne Crisp? I’ve never heard of her.’ He was shaking and Betty grasped his arm more tightly.
‘Sit down, Ed, listen to the rest of what Mr Lacy has to say.’
‘The money left after everything has been dealt with is to be divided between you and Miss Mary Anne Crisp, apart from a few small bequests.’
‘You, Miss Connors, are to be given fifty pounds to thank you for the support and kindnesses you have shown. T
here are gifts too for the nurses and a member of staff’ He looked up at Ed and added, ‘I have only done a preliminary assessment but I believe you will inherit in excess of two hundred pounds.’
‘But I thought there was more than that.’ Ed frowned. ‘Elsie didn’t discuss the details but I understood she had several thousands, left to her by an aunt.’
‘That is shown in the purchase of the property and her more recent medical expenses, Mr Connor.’
Ed turned and stared at Betty. He looked stunned. ‘But this can’t be right. There has to be a mistake! The guest house must be mine. We were married, she wouldn’t leave it to a stranger.’
As though warning against an appeal, Mark Lacy went on quietly, ‘Besides the will, which makes her intentions perfectly plain, I have a note written by her doctor stating her to be mentally alert and quite clear about what she wanted, Mr Connors. There is also this.’ He picked up another envelope. ‘Your wife left a letter for you. Perhaps she explains it all in that.’ He offered the envelope to Ed, who brushed the man’s hand aside angrily and it was Betty who took it and put in her handbag. ‘We have already set in motion the usual inquiries,’ Lacy said. ‘Appeals for Mary Anne Crisp to get in touch with us. When I have more information I will inform you immediately.’
‘You’re wrong. There has to be a mistake. Elsie wouldn’t treat me like this,’ Ed muttered.
Mark Lacy stood up and stepped towards him, hand outstretched. ‘When I have gone through everything thoroughly I will arrange another appointment and we can discuss it all fully. Until then, Mr Connors, I offer my sincere condolences and wish you well, and I hope this new stage of your life will be a good one. Good day to you both.’
Dismissed, they went out with his good wishes echoing dully in their heads.
‘I’m homeless, Betty,’ Ed said as they walked to the car. ‘Can you believe that? After looking after her, giving her every attention, loving her, this is how she treats me. I can’t believe she’d be so cruel.’
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