The Honeyfield Bequest

by Anna Jacobs

  She couldn’t refuse to let him in, but was relieved to see Rhoda hurrying along the street to join them. Her friend’s nosiness was comforting rather than annoying these days, making it feel as if someone was always keeping an eye on her and the children. Today it was a godsend to have someone else there and she waited till Rhoda arrived before she took her father into the front room.

  ‘We’ll not be needing someone else poking her nose into our business,’ he said at once. ‘No offence, missus, but this is for the Keller family to sort out.’

  ‘Rhoda’s my best friend and she helps me a lot. I’ll feel better to have her advice.’

  His lips tightened to a straight line for a few seconds but he didn’t make any further protests. ‘You’ve heard about your mother?’

  ‘Yes. I got a letter from Mr Seaton.’

  ‘He said he’d let you know. I want you there at the funeral. I want all my family there, showing respect for Deirdre.’

  Without thinking, she blurted out, ‘I’m worried about the danger.’

  ‘What danger? What do you mean?’

  As she hesitated, he added sharply, ‘How can you be in danger, all comfortable in this cottage with Mr Seaton keeping an eye on you and paying you decent money every week? You have an easy life, my girl, and should be on your knees thanking God for it morning and night.’

  Annoyed by this, she explained the situation to him. He hadn’t heard any details about the threat posed by Godfrey Seaton, but didn’t seem all that surprised at how eager the nephew was to inherit.

  ‘I knew he was jealous of Mr Ernest being born to money, well, everyone did. Most people are guessing that Mr Godfrey will inherit one day now that Mr Ernest is dead, but I doubt it. Mr Seaton doesn’t like him at all. You can tell. Only … surely Godfrey won’t commit murder to get hold of the money?’

  He was silent for a few seconds, then added, ‘That explains why Mr Seaton gets all het up whenever his nephew comes to visit. I don’t know why he doesn’t just tell Mr Godfrey to stay away.’

  ‘He likes to keep an eye on him, I think,’ Rhoda said. ‘And Mrs Seaton gets on well with Godfrey. You’d think he was her blood relative, not her husband’s.’

  Fergus frowned, and began drumming his fingers on the chair arm, an annoying habit he had. ‘Anyway, the Seatons are not the point today. It’s your bounden duty to come to your mother’s funeral, Kathleen, and don’t try to deny it.’

  ‘Who’s doing the funeral?’

  ‘Mr Godfrey’s funeral company.’

  ‘Oh, dear! He’ll know about my mother, then, and be expecting me to be there.’

  ‘You surely don’t think he’s going to attack you at a funeral with your father and brothers there to protect you! Anyway, he doesn’t do the cheaper funerals himself, so I doubt he’ll be in attendance.’

  ‘Why did you go to such an expensive firm?’

  ‘Mr Godfrey sent me word he’d reduce the price on account of me working for his uncle, so I agreed. I thought my Deirdre deserved a better send-off than I could afford, and that includes all her children being present, Kathleen Frances.’

  Most likely her father had been easily tempted because he wanted to show off to his friends. But still … he was right about one thing: it was a daughter’s duty to attend her mother’s funeral and she’d never forgive herself if she didn’t do that. ‘If I come, it’ll have to be in disguise. I’ll wear a veil, hide my face, stay at the back of the church.’

  He sat frowning, then said, ‘I suppose you could do that. I can always tell people afterwards that you were there. Make sure you come, though, I’ll see you regret it if you stay away.’

  ‘There’s no need to make threats. I want to attend Ma’s funeral. Where is it?’

  ‘Where do you think? At our church, of course, and your mother will be buried in the churchyard.’

  ‘How will Kathleen get there, Mr Keller?’ Rhoda asked. ‘It’s a long way from here, much too far for her to walk.’

  He frowned, thought for a minute then said, ‘I’ll send a motor car to fetch her.’

  ‘A car?’ Kathleen looked at her father in amazement. How could he afford that?

  ‘I’m after learning how to drive one of them stinking machines, because anyone can see that’s the way of the future, not horses. My friend Bill owns a car and he’s teaching me. It’s not all that hard. He uses the car as a taxi cab and he’ll give me a good price on your fare.’

  He grimaced. ‘I wish the damned things had never been invented but I swore when I left Ireland that I’d do whatever I had to so that my family would never go hungry again. And I meant it. Mr Seaton may think he can still make a good living from his business but it’s been going steadily downhill for years, and more so since he took ill. I can see the writing on the wall: horses and carts are going to be gradually replaced by lorries and cars, and he isn’t going to make old bones, anyway.’

  He stood up. ‘So I’ll be sending my friend Bill to collect you in his taxi and he’ll bring you back here afterwards. The funeral is on Wednesday at one o’clock in the afternoon.’

  When he’d gone she looked at Rhoda. ‘I don’t want to take the children. Can they come to you after school on Wednesday?’

  ‘Yes, of course, dear.’

  Chapter Fourteen

  Kathleen got out the heavy mourning garments she’d worn for her husband’s funeral and gave them a good shake. They looked too fine for her family’s funeral and they’d be rather warm on a sunny day like this, but they were all she had and she was sure her father would be offended if she didn’t wear some sort of mourning.

  Bill arrived on time with the car. He proved to be a quiet man, friendly enough but not inclined to chat. Which suited her just fine.

  When he dropped her off at the church, he said, ‘I’ll collect you from here after the burial.’ He didn’t wait for her answer but drove away.

  She felt vulnerable as she walked inside the building and uncomfortable at the thought of Catholic rituals after years of worshipping in the Church of England.

  She took a seat at the rear of the church, but a man walked down to her from the front and said, ‘There’s a place for you in the family pews unless you’re too fine these days to sit with your brothers and sisters.’

  ‘Patrick? Is that you? I didn’t recognise you.’

  ‘And no one would recognise you, dressed like an old crow with your face hidden from the world.’

  She flinched from his sharp tone. ‘I arranged with Da that I’d wear a heavy veil and sit here at the back, so as not to be recognised. There’s someone I don’t want to see me and now you’re drawing attention to me.’

  ‘Well, I reckon that’s just an excuse to stay away from your family and I’m not having it. Think you’re better than us, don’t you? Well, you’re not!’

  He grabbed her arm and pulled her to her feet. He was as strong as her father and she could do nothing about it without creating a scene, so whispered, ‘Let go. I’m coming.’

  Until then she hadn’t noticed the sharp-faced man staring at her from the far end of a pew on the other side of the aisle, but she did now and quickly realised she’d seen him somewhere before. She couldn’t remember exactly where and that worried her. She was sure he didn’t live anywhere near her. She knew everyone in Monks Barton by sight and most of them by name too. So who was he and why was he staring?

  Keeping her head down, she took her place near the front. Her brothers and sisters edged along to make room, but none of them spoke to her. Her father looked round and nodded once, as if satisfied.

  She felt angry that he hadn’t kept his word to let her sit at the back. It was typical of him. Patrick would have obeyed their father if he’d said to leave her where she was, because from the way he’d behaved with her, Fergus still ruled his family, and probably the men who worked under him as well, with a rod of iron.

  The service was brief and what the priest said about her mother didn’t sound at all like the Deirdre Keller
her daughter had known. But then, people rarely spoke ill of the dead; they told kind lies to comfort the bereaved relatives.

  When the service was over, Fergus and his sons helped carry the coffin out and Kathleen’s sister whispered, ‘That’s Godfrey Seaton walking in front of the coffin. He looks as if he eats well.’

  Kathleen stared at the man who was causing her so much trouble. She’d seen him in the distance before, but never up close, nor had she ever spoken to him. His resemblance to Ernest upset her once again.

  Everyone filed out behind the coffin and Kathleen stayed in the middle of her family. But when they got to the grave she felt a shiver run down her spine as she saw Godfrey Seaton staring at her from across the gaping hole. Did he know who she was? He was looking at her as if he hated her, so he must. More important for her peace of mind, did he know where she lived? If he did, she might have to leave secretly.

  The grave was at the rear of the church in the untidy corner where they buried the poorer folk. Her father’s desire to show off hadn’t stretched to a fancy grave plot nearer the front and there were no marble monuments back here.

  If he hadn’t been offered a cheap price, he probably wouldn’t have made such a fuss about the funeral. He and his wife had shared a house and created children together, but they’d never seemed loving towards one another. In the final few years before Kathleen left home, her mother had always seemed too tired for anything but struggling on.

  Well, she was a fine one to talk, Kathleen thought guiltily. She’d not loved her husband, either.

  She glanced round as the words of committal ended. And there he was again, the sharp-faced man, not standing with her parents’ friends and neighbours, but half-hidden behind a tombstone at the corner of the church. He was looking towards Godfrey Seaton, nodding, as if he was ready to do something.

  Suddenly she remembered where she’d seen him: driving a pony and trap with Godfrey Seaton in it. Her heart fluttered in her chest. What if he followed her home? What if he attacked her children?

  As her father stepped back from the open grave, she edged forward to join him, tugging his arm. ‘Da!’

  ‘What’s wrong? Can you not even stand quietly while your mother’s being laid to rest?’

  ‘Da, there’s a man following me. I told you it’d be dangerous for me to come here. Look at the corner of the church but don’t let him see you staring.’

  He nodded, waiting a moment or two before twisting his head for a quick glance. ‘Thin fellow, bald? I know him. He works for Godfrey Seaton, brings him to the yard sometimes.’

  ‘Yes, that’s him. He looked at me then nodded towards his master as if to say he was going to do something for him.’

  ‘You’re sure he’s been following you?’

  ‘Certain.’

  ‘Godfrey’s a wicked devil, so he is.’ Fergus sighed and glanced at the coffin. ‘I can’t do anything at the moment, Kathleen Frances. This is my wife’s funeral, after all. And anyway, I don’t want Godfrey to think I’m not ready to obey him. I don’t want to lose my job as long as Mr Seaton is still running the yard.’

  He moved forward to toss some earth on his wife’s grave and seized the opportunity to speak to his eldest son. ‘Patrick! Come here. There’s someone following your sister. Bald fellow standing at the corner behind us. Can you make sure he doesn’t go after her when she gets into the motor car with Bill? She doesn’t want him to find out where she’s living.’

  ‘Isn’t she coming to the house with the rest of us?’

  ‘No. And she has a good reason for it. So do as I damned well ask and keep your eye on her.’

  ‘All right, Da.’

  As they walked out of the churchyard, Kathleen saw Bill waiting in the motor car and ran to get into it as quickly as she could. Huddling down in the seat, she glanced back to see Patrick barring the thin man’s way. He was trying to get round her brother, and they were shoving one another to and fro. Godfrey must know where she lived, so why did this man want to follow her? Was he intending to hurt her or threaten her on the way home?

  ‘What’s wrong?’ Bill asked.

  She explained a second time, more briefly.

  ‘I’ll drive as fast as I can and keep an eye on the road behind us. But I have to get back to your place on time, because a cousin of mine has arranged for me to pick up a young fellow in Monks Barton and drive him home. Barty usually picks him up, but something’s come up and he can’t do it today.’

  ‘Is it someone I know?’

  ‘Shouldn’t think so. This is a fellow from Malmesbury who likes going for long walks at the weekends. He arranges for my cousin Barty to pick him up somewhere in the afternoon so that he can go further afield and explore new areas. I don’t know why anyone would want to do that, but he pays good money to be driven back and I don’t want to keep him waiting.’

  ‘As long as I get home safely.’

  He repeated confidently, ‘Don’t worry. I’ll make sure of that.’

  But she did worry. She had thought Godfrey would wait for Mr Seaton’s death before he did anything. Why had this man wanted to follow her?

  Bill got her home but her heart sank when she saw a man waiting near her house. ‘Someone else is there, another stranger. Please don’t leave me till we find out who he is.’

  He looked at the man and laughed gently. ‘That’s my passenger, Mr Perry. He must have got to Monks Barton more quickly than he expected. I’ll introduce you, then you won’t worry if you see him again. He says there are some grand walks round here and he’ll be exploring it on fine Sundays for a while and asking me again to pick him up. Rather him than me for all that walking, but I hope he carries on with it.’

  After helping her out of the car, Bill beckoned to the young man. ‘Mr Perry, this is Mrs Seaton.’

  He smiled. ‘I’m pleased to meet you.’

  ‘I’ve just brought her back from burying her mother.’

  His smile faded. ‘Oh, I’m so sorry. My condolences.’

  ‘Thank you. I hope you had a good walk.’

  His face brightened again. ‘Yes, I did. I love exploring the countryside. I work in an office and I try to get out into the fresh air on Sundays whenever the weather permits.’

  As she nodded and turned to go into the house, he moved quickly to open the gate for her.

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘You’re welcome. You have a lovely garden, Mrs Seaton.’

  She only realised as she closed the door behind her and locked it that she hadn’t even thanked him for his compliment. She couldn’t resist peeping out of the front window and watching the two men chat for a few moments. Then they got into the car, laughing, and drove away.

  Mr Perry wasn’t good-looking, not with that large nose, but she’d liked his face because he had such a warm smile. And she’d liked his enthusiasm about his walks.

  She envied him. She wished she had the freedom to go out exploring the countryside, or simply to wander round the shops in Swindon. Her children were growing older and more independent, preferring to play with their friends rather than go out walking with her, but at the moment she always needed to be nearby to keep an eye on them.

  She’d wished for all sorts of things over the years, and not got them all. You had to cope with what life did to you, not what you dreamt of.

  Sighing, she went upstairs to take off her black clothes and put on her everyday garments. As she tidied her hair, she decided she wasn’t even going to wear a black armband. She hadn’t been close to her mother and she wasn’t going to pretend to be heartbroken. Anyway, none of her family would see her.

  When she was ready, she nipped along the back lane to Rhoda’s to pick up her two children, locking the back door carefully behind her, something she wouldn’t even have thought of doing a year ago.

  Back to a life of waiting and wondering, she thought.

  How long could this go on?

  The thought wouldn’t be suppressed: it’d go on till Mr Seaton died. And t
hen who knew what she’d have to do or where she’d wind up?

  Chapter Fifteen

  A few days later Kathleen was surprised to hear something fall through the letter box in her door and drop to the hall floor, because the post had already been delivered. She’d noticed the postman stopping at Rhoda’s.

  She heard someone running away before she could see who had hand-delivered the letter. Why hadn’t they knocked?

  She picked it up and studied the envelope, which was addressed to her in rough printing, using capital letters only. Not liking the looks of it, she slit the top of the envelope and read the message quickly, gasping in shock at the words.

  TAKE YOUR CHILDREN AND MOVE AWAY FROM WILTSHIRE, YOU BITCH. YOU’RE NOT WANTED HERE.

  YOU WOULDN’T WANT THEM CHILDREN TO GET HURT, WOULD YOU? OR YOURSELF?

  WE’LL BE WATCHING YOU, SO LEAVE QUICKLY!

  DON’T COME BACK. NEVER, EVER!

  Shocked rigid, she let the piece of paper slip out of her fingers and it was a few moments before she felt calm enough to pick it up and reread it carefully. That was enough to fix the exact words in her mind and fill her with anger … as well as fear.

  Her first instinct was to burn it, but she decided it would be better to keep it, in case she needed proof of the threat.

  Her second instinct was to show it to Rhoda and ask her advice. She locked the doors and ran round to her friend’s house.

  Rhoda stared at the paper in shock, then examined the envelope. ‘Hand-delivered. Your father, do you think? You said you’d seen him watching the house.’

  ‘I don’t think he hates me that much. This seems … full of hate.’

  ‘You can’t always tell.’

  ‘Well, it doesn’t seem the sort of thing he’d do. He’d be more likely to turn up and thump me. Anyway, it isn’t at all like his handwriting. It’s too neat and even. He can’t write straight unless there’s a line ruled on the page. He confuses capitals and small letters when he writes, and as for apostrophes and exclamation marks, he never even tries to use them. I noticed the ones in the letter are all correct.’