by Anna Jacobs
‘I’ve just had a quick look round.’
‘I heard you. I’d have preferred you to wait for me.’
‘And I preferred to look on my own.’
She argued with him about the price for quite a while and finally managed to knock what he was asking down to an amount she considered reasonable.
This time she had the sensation that someone had given her a quick kiss on the cheek, a butterfly touch that had her fingering the spot. She hadn’t imagined that, she knew she hadn’t.
‘You’ll send someone to my office to complete the formalities and arrange payment?’ he asked stiffly.
‘I’ll come myself tomorrow morning. The money is waiting in the bank. It’s a bequest to charity, and I’m in charge of setting up the trust fund. I’ve done this before, so I have a document already prepared. We’ll call this trust after the house and village, I think: The Honeyfield Bequest.’
He wrote the words ‘Honeyfield Bequest’ in his notebook and asked once again, ‘You’re sure you have the freedom to spend this money as you choose?’
‘Not as I choose. It must be used for the benefit of people in need, not for myself or for anything frivolous.’
His expression was sour, as if he didn’t approve of her having even this much financial freedom. ‘Very well. I’ll see you in my office at ten o’clock tomorrow morning. Will you be all right if I leave you now? I do have other appointments.’
‘We’ll be fine. I’ll send Barty into the village for some food and we’ll come back here tomorrow after I’ve seen you, with proper clothes for them both.’
‘It doesn’t do to spoil the poor, you know.’
‘Spoil? That poor woman and her newborn baby are without food or clothing, Mr Perry. In fact, I’d like to ask your help in finding the officials who took all Sal owned off her, including her money. They had no right to do that and must give her things back. She was not a pauper.’
‘I shall have to charge you for doing that.’
‘All right. If you must. But sort it out as quickly as you can.’
‘Is that all?’
‘Yes. You can tell me how you’re going on with it when I come to see you tomorrow. There’s no time to waste. Sal has no clean clothes for herself, and no clothes at all for her baby.’
He drew in a deep breath, looking at her sourly, but not arguing.
The house felt brighter when he’d left.
She felt a glow of pleasure at this unexpected turn of events. Honeyfield House was already serving as a shelter for a woman in need. And fate had provided a strong woman to act as their caretaker.
Now they only had to find a capable woman to manage the place and a strong man to guard it. A big dog might come in useful too.
When his father came back, he looked furiously angry. Nathan was summoned to his office very soon afterwards and the situation at Honeyfield House was explained.
‘So can you please visit the local poorhouse and get that woman’s clothes back before this Mrs Latimer changes her mind about buying the house?’
‘Yes, of course. What’s the woman’s name?’
‘Sal Hatton. Start work on it today. That woman has nothing to wear.’ He shuddered at the memory of her huge fleshy buttocks. ‘Oh, and you’d better deal with Honeyfield House from now on. You can find its information in our records. I’ve written down the details of the lady in charge of this trust, including her phone number.’
Latimer! That was one of his mother’s family names, the family line from which his strange abilities came, she’d told him. Could this woman be a distant relative? He’d never mentioned anything about that to his father but he’d never forgotten it, either.
His father was scowling at the piece of paper. ‘It felt strange to have a woman give me her phone number. I wonder why her husband allows her such freedom, I do indeed.’
‘Very well. I’ll be happy to take over. Will it be all right for this poor woman who’s had a baby to stay there in the meantime?’
‘As long as Mrs Latimer can prove she has the money to buy the house, my client won’t care who is staying there. Anyway, she’s offered this woman a job as caretaker.’
‘I’ll deal with it all, then.’ Nathan was glad his work on property sales got him out of the office. Glad to help this poor woman, too. His father was far too harsh on poorer people, too strict with his employees as well.
He hoped he’d get a chance to meet this Mrs Latimer.
He walked briskly across town and confronted the man in charge of the poorhouse.
‘I remember the woman you’re talking about. Sal Hatton should be in here, not out walking the streets. She’s destitute with nowhere to live. Has she had the baby? Did it live?’
‘Yes. And it’s a fine healthy girl, apparently.’
‘It won’t stay healthy with no home to live in.’
‘Well, a lady has given her a live-in job, so all’s well that ends well. Sal now needs her possessions back.’
‘They’ve been put into the common stores.’
‘Then they must be pulled out of the stores.’ He saw a refusal building. ‘If not, you could be charged with theft. And there’s her money too. That must be returned as well.’
With a scowl the man picked up a handbell and when a severe-faced woman in black answered it, he explained the situation, ending, ‘See to it, if you please, Miss Topham! I’ll get that woman’s money out of the safe. It’ll be ready for you when you leave, Mr Perry, with a small deduction for our expenses, of course.’
‘I would regard any deduction as unlawful, since she didn’t ask for your services.’
Silence, then, ‘It’s irregular, but I think we can waive the charges this once. Kindly go with Miss Topham now.’
He was glad to leave the arrogant fellow. Heaven help the inmates here with someone like that in charge. ‘I’m Nathan Perry, ma’am.’
‘The accountant’s son. Yes, I know. I used to see you in church. You haven’t been there much lately. This way.’
The storeroom was large and well supplied with piles of second-hand clothing and bedding, everything immaculately clean.
‘I’ll just call Betsy in and we’ll sort those things out for you.’
‘You know which they are? The poor woman can’t afford to lose any of her clothing.’
‘I know every item here, believe me. Only the money is kept in the office.’
Nathan left the storeroom with three unwieldy pillowcases – badly stained with frayed edges – full of clothing and miscellaneous extra items for the baby, about which he was to say nothing.
He was taken back to the man in charge, who counted out the money in small change. He was deliberately being awkward about this refund, Nathan decided, but he didn’t comment, merely asked for an envelope to put the money in. Even that simple request caused a lot of humming and hawing about stationery expenses.
Since the bundles were awkward to carry, he beckoned to a lad in the street and asked him to find a cab, holding out a threepenny-bit temptingly. It was getting late, but it’d be easier to take the things over to Honeyfield tonight.
The office would be locked up now and only his father and the head clerk had keys. He could imagine his father’s annoyance if he took the bundles home with him.
A mellow summer twilight was beginning as Nathan arrived at Honeyfield House with a cab driver who was happy to earn extra money by waiting for him. To his surprise, he found a car there that he recognised and when he knocked on the kitchen door, Barty answered it.
‘Hello, Mr Perry. I didn’t expect to see you here.’
‘My father sent me to retrieve the clothes belonging to the woman and child staying here, so I thought I’d bring them over straight away. She must need them desperately.’
‘She does. I was here earlier with Mrs Latimer and I’ve come back to help Sal. It’s a bit hard to manage on your own after you’ve just had a baby in such circumstances.’ He reached for the bundles.
‘I’ll h
elp you take them up,’ Nathan said. He was not only curious to see this woman but also needed to ensure that the clothing and money went to the right person. Not that he didn’t trust Barty, of course.
Sal was lying in bed, dozing, with the baby in a makeshift cradle made out of a drawer set on top of a chest of drawers beside the bed.
‘This gentleman has brought your things, Sal,’ Barty said.
She jerked fully awake.
‘I’m Nathan Perry. Mrs Latimer asked our firm to retrieve your clothes.’ He set the pillowcase stuffed with baby clothes on her bed and Barty dumped the other bags beside her.
‘Oh. I never expected to see them again.’ Tears trickled down her cheeks as she pulled out some tiny baby clothes and held them against her face for a moment.
‘Someone sews beautifully,’ Nathan commented.
‘I made them and embroidered them too. I love sewing.’
‘Could you do a quick check that everything is here, or are you too tired?’
‘I’m not too tired to check, nor do I own enough things to let any of them go missing.’ She rummaged through the clothing, muttering under her breath, then lay back on the pillows. ‘It’s all there. Every blessed thing I own now, plus a few extra baby clothes. How did you persuade them to give it all back? And do I owe anyone money for the extras?’
‘The matron was happy to help and she knew where everything was. The extras were from her, no charge.’
‘Only fancy,’ Sal said, her voice weaker now. ‘It’s like a miracle, it is. That lady who’s buying the house was kind too. I never had a miracle happen to me before.’
When he was leaving, Barty came to the door with him and Nathan told him he’d be dealing with the sale from now on and it was all right for Sal to stay on.
‘That’s good.’
‘I’ll come back tomorrow to get to know the house a bit better.’
Nathan treasured the memory of Sal’s blissful expression all the way home.
Even his father’s annoyance at him spending so much money on a taxi didn’t take away the pleasure he’d felt at helping.
One day not too far away he’d find another job, one that suited him more than keeping accounts, one where he helped people preferably. He’d never lost his old skill at finding things. Surely he could put it to good use?
Chapter Nineteen
Kathleen had been feeling uneasy all week, but she couldn’t work out why. Other people were excited about the coronation, which would take place at the end of June, while she was worried because she’d seen a man watching her. But when she turned a corner and nipped back suddenly to try to catch him out, there was no sign of him.
Had she been mistaken?
No. She had good eyesight and little got past her, as her children had found.
On the following Sunday she took the two of them round to Rhoda’s house, as she had done a few times, then went off for a long tramp across the fields. She knew all the paths you were allowed to walk on. Just an hour or so of peace, she told herself. It was an indulgence but the children would be safe with Rhoda and she did her best thinking while walking on her own.
Why had she been feeling uneasy today? She couldn’t work it out. No one had threatened her, there had been no messages from Godfrey Seaton for a while, and her father wasn’t due till next week with the money. It was all very strange.
She looked round and realised she’d walked further than usual, feeling annoyed with herself for losing track of time.
As she began the long walk back to the village, feeling tired now, a car stopped beside her and for a few seconds her heart thumped in panic. Then she realised it was Bill.
‘You’re a long way from home, Mrs Seaton.’
‘Yes, I was lost in thought and walked too far.’
‘Want a ride back to the village?’
‘Oh, would you? That’d be such a relief. I am a bit tired, I must admit. Are you meeting Mr Perry again?’
‘Yes, I am. I’ve never met such a keen hiker. But he pays good money, so long may he continue.’
She asked Bill to drop her in the back lane, so that she could get the fire burning more brightly and put the kettle on before she fetched the children from Rhoda’s.
As Bill drove away towards the street in front of her house, where he was meeting Mr Perry, she fumbled in her handbag for the key. It was a heavy old thing but the only one there was and she didn’t dare leave it under a plant pot as most other people did.
When she opened the back door, the sight that met her eyes made her scream at the top of her voice and take a hasty step backwards. There was a dead fox in her kitchen. Well, she thought it was a fox. It was chopped into pieces and spread around the room. There seemed to be blood everywhere.
She screamed again as something swung towards her head and it proved to be a piece of the animal’s innards hanging from the door lintel on a piece of string, which must have been released by her opening the door. It dripped blood on her face and hat before she could push it away.
Turning she ran out of the back door and screamed even more loudly as she bumped into a man.
Mr Perry stepped quickly back and held his hands out sideways, palms towards her, in a gesture that said he wasn’t intending to hurt her. ‘I was walking up the street towards Bill’s car when we heard you screaming, so I came to see what was wrong.’
Pounding footsteps brought Bill to join them. ‘I thought I’d better stop the car engine first,’ he panted. Then he saw the blood on her face and gaped for a moment.
Shuddering with revulsion at the mess, she tried to wipe it off with her handkerchief, telling herself not to panic. She wasn’t hurt, it was only an animal’s blood. But she was sickened, utterly sickened by the sight of her kitchen.
Mr Perry put one hand on her shoulder and studied her face. ‘You’ve got blood on your cheek. Where did it come from? Are you hurt?’
‘No, I’m not hurt, but someone’s broken into my house and left a dead animal in my kitchen. And a booby trap to cover me with its blood.’ She pointed one shaking hand towards the bundle of guts swinging gently at the end of the string.
‘Ugh. Perhaps you could go to a neighbour’s while we check the rest of the house?’ Mr Perry suggested. ‘We’d better not clear up the mess till the police have seen it.’
‘Police? What have the burglars done inside?’ Bill asked.
‘Go and see for yourself.’
He peered into the kitchen. ‘Hell fire! Pardon my language, Mrs Seaton, but there must be a lunatic on the loose.’
Kathleen couldn’t stop shuddering and if Mr Perry hadn’t put his arm round her shoulders, she’d have collapsed, she was sure, her legs felt so wobbly. It had been such a shock.
‘Lean against me for a moment,’ he said quietly. ‘You’ve had a nasty surprise and you’re white as a sheet.’
Some of her neighbours had come running out of their houses and were speaking to her, but their voices didn’t seem to make sense and when Mr Perry guided her away from them, she let him take charge.
She didn’t start thinking clearly again until she found herself sitting in Rhoda’s kitchen, with the stranger explaining what had happened.
Kathleen’s first thought was of her children and the need to protect them and prevent them running home. That helped her get control of her fear. ‘I’m sorry, Mr Perry. I—it upset me.’
‘A barbarous action like that would upset anyone.’
‘I’ll make you a nice cup of tea,’ Rhoda said. ‘Why don’t you go and sit in the front room? You could lie down for a few minutes on the sofa.’
She brushed aside Rhoda’s offer of her universal remedy: a cup of tea. ‘I’ll be all right. Where are the children? I don’t want them seeing that horrible mess.’
‘Mrs Dalton was going to her brother’s farm, so she took them with her. Their cat’s had kittens and you know how those youngsters of yours love baby animals.’
‘Well, they’re not having a kitten,’ she said
automatically. ‘But thank goodness they’re not back yet! I’ll have time to clear up the kitchen.’
‘Not till the police have seen it,’ Mr Perry said firmly. ‘An elderly gentleman has gone to fetch them, your next-door neighbour, I think.’
‘Mr Polton?’
‘I didn’t catch his name.’
‘Excuse me for asking, but how did you come to be involved, sir?’ Rhoda asked when she came back with her best tea tray.
‘Bill had arranged to pick me up in this street, which is the part of Monks Barton I know best. We were outside the front of the house about to get into his car when we heard Mrs Seaton screaming.’
Rhoda was nothing if not persistent. ‘Why was he picking you up here? Have you been visiting someone in the village?’
‘No. I work in an office and I miss the fresh air, so I go hiking at weekends. If I pay someone with a car to pick me up at an agreed spot, I can go for longer walks. You see so much more on foot.’
Rhoda was being her usual inquisitive self, Kathleen thought. She’d have been amused by that normally, but at the moment she was too upset and was still struggling to think what to do.
‘If Bill knows you, that’s all right, then,’ Rhoda said.
‘His cousin Barty’s been driving me round for a few years. Bill takes over when Barty’s busy.’
Even if Bill hadn’t known him, even if he’d been a complete stranger, Kathleen would have trusted this man. He had a nice face, and though he had a rather large nose, his smile and kind expression stopped him from being ugly. A quiet, steady sort of man, she’d guess. She’d grown up with too many noisy people around her and she really appreciated a quieter, gentler approach to the world.
‘Well, then. If the children aren’t due back yet, I’ll have time for that cup of tea, Rhoda,’ she said.
Her friend bustled off to fetch another cup and saucer and Mr Perry sat down. ‘You have a better colour in your cheeks now.’
‘Thank you for helping me.’
‘It was the least I could do.’
They heard someone knock at the back door and voices whispering in the kitchen, so they waited in a comfortable silence for Rhoda to come back. It was nice to have him there with her, Kathleen thought, and equally nice not to have to talk.
