When Luke arrived, he looked seriously in need of a change of clothing himself. His clothes once again smelt of smoke and his face was streaked with black smears. He looked tired and worried. He went straight upstairs to wash and when he came down he forced a smile. ‘It’s been quite a day,’ was all he said. He didn’t explain until the meal was over. Then, while Jessie dealt with the dishes he said, ‘More bad news for your mother, I’m afraid.’
‘Tell me.’
‘It’s Paul again,’ he admitted. ‘Apparently the café was not insured. The payments have stopped and the arrears are weeks past the time when the policy could be reinstated. The company will not be paying out.’
‘But what happened? Paul isn’t stupid enough to think it unimportant. He’s had businesses of his own.’
Luke declined to remark that they had all failed. Instead, he suggested, ‘Perhaps he simply forgot? When everything was in your mother’s hands she was in control, and as they’ve gradually become Paul’s responsibility, this one could have slipped through without either of them noticing.’
‘Rubbish! This is one of Paul’s famous economies!’
‘Don’t lose your temper,’ he warned. ‘We don’t know all the facts. It might be something your mother forgot.’
‘How likely is that?’ She stood up and pushed his hand away as he tried to restrain her, and stormed into the kitchen. ‘Mum, Paul’s forgotten to pay the insurance premiums. There is no money to repair your tea rooms. He’s ruined you.’ She stopped suddenly as Luke came in behind her and shook her shoulder. ‘What are you doing?’ she demanded.
‘Stopping you playing the drama queen! Now sit down and listen, while I explain to your mother what little I know.’
Seranne was so shocked at his action she did as he asked. More calmly, Luke explained to a white faced Jessie.
‘We’ve been on to the insurance company and explained that the books and policies were destroyed in the fire. It took this long for them to get back to us because there are no policies. I’m so sorry. The insurance on the property ran out months ago and although several letters were sent, no attempt to rearrange it has been received.’
Jessie stared at him, waiting for the rest, a promise that a solution had been found, the error explained, that everything would be all right. Sadly Luke shook his head as though she had spoken aloud. Jessie opened her arms and Seranne ran to hug her.
‘What will we do?’ Jessie wailed.
For once Seranne held her tongue from accusing Paul of creating all their problems. ‘I don’t know, Mum, but somehow we’ll get Jessica’s Victorian Tea Rooms back again. Better than ever.’
Later, when Jessie had gone to bed, Seranne said, ‘The only thing I can do to help is to sell my half of The Wayfaring Tree, it’s probably worth a little more than we paid now we’ve increased the trade and smartened it up. Then I can use the money to get the tea rooms started again.’
‘Typical!’ was Luke’s response. ‘Let Babs down, after she’s given up on the family business to share your idea. Don’t worry about her, just do what you want to do.’
‘I don’t want to give up the café. I’m proud of what Babs and I have achieved.’
‘Seranne, you have to accept that your mother has to live her own life. That means she is responsible for her own decisions and has to repair any damage her errors have created. She and Paul have to deal with this. We support them but we don’t interfere.’
‘We?’
‘Yes. Of course I’ll help, but only that. No one has the right to march in and take over.’
She giggled then.
‘What’s funny?’
‘The thought of me wearing army boots marching into that mess of a building and taking charge.’
Smiling with her, he urged, ‘Stay out of it, Seranne. Live your life, and try not to live theirs. Let them decide how best to sort this out.’
‘Is it possible, to sort this out?’
‘Of course. But it will mean a lot of work and you and I can help with that, once they’ve decided what they are going to do.’ He left soon after and at the doorway he stared at her and said, ‘Keep that temper of yours in control when you see Paul. You won’t help your mother by reminding her she married a man who failed her. She already knows that.’
‘But he’s ruined her life and….’
‘Hush, no two marriages are the same. Paul is her choice and I doubt very much if she’d want to change that.’
‘She’s not stupid!’
‘Love can make fools of us all.’ He held her, their cheeks touching and she felt the movement as he smiled before saying, ‘Even a hard-headed woman like you.’
She felt the chill of loneliness as he walked down the path leaving behind just the faint musty smell of smoke on the night air.
When Paul came to visit Jessie, Seranne was at the café. When she went home for a brief visit between the lunch hour and the teatime rush, she found her mother in tears.
‘What is it? Has something else happened?’
‘Paul is so upset. He thought I’d dealt with the insurance and I thought it was on his list of things to do. I don’t know where we’ll get the money to start over again.’
The confusion of responsibilities didn’t explain it. The reminders would have come by post and must have been seen by Paul, who chose to ignore them. She held back the anger that threatened to burst from her, anger against Paul and his reluctance to spend money on the essentials. ‘Luke and I will help, you know that. And perhaps Paul too, as he’s—’
‘I know, he’s partly to blame.’
‘Partly?’ Seranne couldn’t help saying.
‘I’ve been too willing to leave it all to him. He knows what he’s doing, it was only in this instant he was careless.’
‘Where is he now?’
‘Trying to get some estimates for the cleaning and repairs. He and Luke are meeting later to compare notes and make a few decisions, I believe.’ She frowned. ‘Why is Luke so good to us, you and he don’t appear to be more than friends?’
‘That’s all we are, friends. He’s simply a kind man.’
‘Rich too.’
‘Not rich enough to sort out Paul’s mess!’ Her mother looked tearful and she regretted her outburst. ‘Sorry, Mum, but it’s hard not to be angry with him.’
‘You don’t understand how easily things can go wrong, you’ve never had a moment’s worry, I’ve seen to that.’
It was ten o’clock that evening when Seranne and Jessie were ready for bed that Luke arrived. ‘There’s no easy way to say this,’ he said, holding Jessie’s hands. ‘Paul didn’t come as we arranged and when I went to the place where he’s staying, he wasn’t there.’
‘Then where is he?’
‘He’d paid his account and left. Jessie, I went with him to the bank and arranged for replacement cheques and a statement. It seems that he’s gone, taking the money that was left in your account.’
To their surprise, Jessie didn’t seem shocked. ‘Poor darling. You know, he’s been doing all this for us, trying to make a better future for us, and now all his efforts have been in vain.’
A glare from Luke prevented Seranne from saying what was in her mind. Leaving Luke and Jessie talking, she went to stand in the garden to cool her temper.
Seranne knew she could save money by leaving Badgers Brook, but the house was her safe, comforting haven. She and Babs were clearing up after closing the café and she told her friend, ‘I know I’ll cope with whatever life has in store for me as long as I can go there each evening and draw strength from its old walls and peaceful atmosphere.’
‘Then stay, the rent isn’t excessive and it wouldn’t make much difference to an empty pot. Besides, you and your mother have to live somewhere.’
‘It soothes my pain and the way I feel about my mother is a wound of sorts. Sitting in that place, soaking up the history, with the memories of previous owners seeming to offer sympathy, is the only time I feel at peace.’
‘I can manage for a few days while you talk to your mother. I can go to the employment exchange for a temporary assistant. She needs you there.’
‘Thank you, Babs, you’re a real friend, but no, I value the time we spend here and business is looking better every day. I don’t want to risk that. Luke reminds me that their disaster isn’t my responsibility. This is a mess for my mother to deal with, I can’t do her thinking for her. He’s right. For one thing, I’d be too tempted to suggest she tell Paul to go!’
‘Do you know where he is?’
‘Hiding somewhere, licking his wounds and telling himself it was all someone else’s fault!’ She smiled. ‘That’s always my first reaction to a disaster, according to Luke!’
Everywhere around the town were the remnants of the street decorations put up to celebrate the coronation. People were loath to take them down and they hung limply and bedraggled from many lampposts as well as draped across windows and on walls. Even Stella’s country cottage had flags flying from its roof, and Colin’s runner bean had been tied with bunting instead of ordinary string. While Jessie searched for Paul, borrowing a car and driving around and asking everyone they knew for news of him, the sight of the abandoned, discoloured decorations saddened her.
It seemed the town was mourning the end of her marriage. Every corner of Cwm Derw that had once been filled with colour seemed to demonstrate with its drabness the futility of her efforts. She tried every guest house and small hotel and she grew more and more despairing. The echoes of happy celebration surrounding her seemed a cruel joke as she wondered with every day that passed, whether she would ever see Paul again. He was her third husband and a third failure. What was wrong with her? Why couldn’t he have talked to her?
While Jessie tried to think of ways to finance the rebuilding of the tea rooms and her home, and grieved over the disappearance of Paul, Seranne received a letter from Mark Lacy, asking her to go and see him. What could he want? Only to ask more questions about a woman of whom she had never heard. She couldn’t help and was far too busy to waste time.
‘Go on,’ Babs urged, when she showed her the letter. ‘It says you could call any time this afternoon. What’s the matter with you? I’d be unable to resist. You might have been left a legacy.’
‘A legacy? More likely to be a request to look after someone’s cat!’
‘Go on, for heaven’s sake! If you don’t care, do it for me! I’m so excited I just filled the pepper pot with salt!’
So she reluctantly agreed. She phoned and arranged to see the solicitor at three.
‘I’ll save the washing up for you,’ Babs grinned. ‘I don’t want your inheritance going to your head!’
‘Can you tell me what you know about your father, Miss Laurence? Your real father that is.’
‘Not much. I know he died when I was a few months old. Mum married again, to the man who gave me my name but that marriage ended in divorce.’
‘You knew he had a sister? Your real father that is?’
‘Mum told me something about her, although I don’t remember ever meeting her. I don’t think my father and she were in touch, a quarrel that was never mended I believe.’
‘Do you remember her name?’
‘I think it was Mary, Auntie Mary, but I’ve no idea what her surname would be. She must have married and, as I say, she didn’t keep in touch.’
‘She was Mary Anne, and somehow, she began to be called Sarah Anne, the same as you. Mary Anne Jones, not Crisp. The man called Crisp never married her. She was your aunt, your father’s sister.’
Seranne stood to leave. ‘I’m sorry Mr Lacy, but I know nothing about all this, wouldn’t it be better for you to talk to my mother?’
‘This Mary Anne was also the sister of Elsie Clements who married Ed Connors, she was your aunt.’
Seranne dropped back into her chair and stared at him. ‘Mrs Connors was my aunt? You mean I had an auntie living just behind the post office and I didn’t know?’
‘Sadly, Mrs Connors didn’t know either.’
‘Now she’s dead and it’s too late. To think we might have been friends.’ Her shoulders drooped and she looked up at him sadly. ‘If only I’d known.’ Then she frowned and asked, ‘She really didn’t know I was her niece?’
‘No, I’m sure she didn’t. Although she had been searching for you. It’s the confusion of names you see. Your father’s mother married twice more, and her sister called herself Crisp but remained a Jones.’
‘If only I’d known. Where is she buried? I can at least visit her grave and leave some flowers.’
‘That would be a nice gesture.’
‘Why are you telling me this? Is there something else I can do?’
‘Just think of her kindly. You see, Miss Laurence, she left you the guest house in her will.’
Seranne walked away from Mark Lacy’s office in a daze. It was as though her mind had become numb, her thoughts refused to gel. How could this be? It was as though a voice from the dead had spoken. Her father and her Auntie Mary, two people she hadn’t known had presented her with this unbelievable gift. But why? Surely there must be others who were more entitled to it than she?
She sat on a seat near the post office, unaware of what was going on around her. From time to time she peered guiltily around the corner to where the guest house stood. It was several minutes longer before she thought of Elsie’s husband. Surely the place should be his? She couldn’t accept it. What should she do? Her first thought was to go to the phone box outside the post office and talk to Luke.
When she told him what she had learnt, he congratulated her, but her response was far from thrilled. ‘Don’t congratulate me! I’m horrified to think that this Elsie Connors who was my aunt, could leave a business to me, when it’s her husband who has the right to it. I can’t accept it, Luke. It wouldn’t be right.’
‘Don’t do anything until we’ve talked about it. Perhaps Mark Lacy will be able to explain.’
‘I must go back to him at once, explain that I must refuse it.’
‘No, please wait. I’ll come to Badgers Brook this evening and we can talk it through.’
‘Will you ring Mr Lacy, tell him how I feel, ask for an explanation? Arrange a transfer or whatever it’s called? You’re right, I shouldn’t go now. I’m so upset I wouldn’t make sense of a single word.’
‘I doubt whether he’ll talk to me. But I’ll come with you tomorrow if you wish, although I think you should take your mother.’
The following day Luke drove them and waited outside for them and it was Jessie who answered most of Mark Lacy’s queries. Seranne’s only question was, ‘Why did she leave her property to me?’
‘The only explanation given is that Mrs Connors had been left a large sum of money when she was in her thirties. She had been widowed, and was earning a living by cleaning other people’s houses, and living in one room. The money changed her life for the better. She determined to do the same for someone else. A surprise inheritance, was how she put it.’
‘But surely, once she married she made a new will?’
‘Yes, but she insisted that her original plan remained. She hoped that the same thing would happen again after your time, that you would use the money to have a good life but treat it as a loan to be passed on to someone deserving and unaware.’ He smiled then and added, ‘Oh there’s no commitment for you to do what she asks, just a hope that you will look after the money and do what she envisaged, giving the same request to a chosen recipient in your turn.’
‘But where did the money come from?’
‘Her aunt Flora, from what I can discover. Mrs Connors, or Mrs Clements as she was then, used the money to buy the guest house and it has given her a good living. She hoped it will change another life and another after that, although, as I say, you don’t have that as a stipulation to accepting the bequest. The guest house is yours.’
It didn’t take long for the news to get out. Seranne went to see Ed and he refused to listen to h
er explanation that the whole affair had been a complete surprise. His reaction was extreme anger. He told everyone who would listen that Seranne had deliberately tricked his wife into leaving the property to her. As she hadn’t known the woman it was impossible to work out when, although truth wasn’t allowed to get in the way of a good story.
Seranne was shocked by the amount of bad feeling towards her. Some people said loudly that they wouldn’t use her café again, others sat in a corner, ate her cakes while whispering about her, eyeing her like a woman suspected of theft, which was what some insisted it was. Twice she went to see Mark Lacy and insisted he handed the business back to Ed Connors, the rightful owner, but he refused, insisting in his turn that it was his client’s instruction and she must allow some time to pass while she thought it through.
Ed had said nothing to Seranne herself, but he put a note through the door of Badgers Brook stating that in the circumstances he wouldn’t be running the guest house any longer. ‘The key will be with Stella Jones at the post office,’ the note added.
Luke and Seranne went that evening to look at the place. ‘And I’m going to search every cranny until I find a new will,’ she said firmly. ‘There has to be one. I don’t believe she meant to deprive her husband of everything. No one could be so cruel.’
The kitchen was neat and clean and on the scrubbed table was a note. She handed it to Luke with a groan. It was a list of everything that needed doing on the property, problems that seemed to start at the roof and reach the cellars, touching on everything in between.
Luke read the list and went with her to compare the listed items with the building. Luke pointed out that they were mostly exaggerations. ‘The biggest problem seems to be, who is going to run it if Ed won’t help?’
‘I can’t. I have to work at the café. Babs can’t run it alone. I don’t want to close it down though. I still hope I’ll find a second will and be able to hand it back to him.’
‘He isn’t going to make this easy for you,’ Luke said grimly.
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