The Honeyfield Bequest

by Anna Jacobs

  After they’d finished their snack, Mr Perry helped the two women make up beds for the newcomers, as Kathleen insisted on helping.

  ‘I think you’ll feel safer all sleeping together in this nice big bedroom, Mrs S—Wareham. Just get yourselves to bed for the moment. I’ll try to come over to see how you are tomorrow – no, it’s past midnight, so it’s today, isn’t it? – later today, then.’

  ‘You don’t think they could have followed us?’

  So he repeated, ‘Barty and I are both sure they haven’t.’

  She hoped he was right, wondering if she’d ever feel secure again. She felt much safer when he was with her, but she didn’t say that. He had his own life to lead and was just helping a stranger.

  When the men had driven away, she looked at Sal. ‘I’m sorry to have woken you.’

  ‘It’s what Mrs Latimer wants this place to do, give shelter to women in trouble. I needed somewhere to go and she let me stay here. Well, she helped me birth the baby because you can’t stop them once they start coming out, can you?’ She laughed at her own little joke. ‘She’s a lovely lady. And now you need somewhere to live, as well as me, and she’ll help you in any way she can, I know.’

  She looked thoughtful, then added. ‘Mind you, I take a poker to bed with me at night. Makes me feel safer. You might like to do that too. Shall I get you one?’

  ‘Yes, please.’ Kathleen went into the next room to find the bags that had their clothes in. Then, with Sal and the children’s help, she carried all of them up to the bedroom, leaving just the bundles of household items behind.

  She and Elizabeth shared a double bed, and Christopher – no, Kit now – slept on a sofa. She was reminded of the old saying about falling asleep almost as soon as your head touched the pillow because that was exactly what her two did.

  She envied them, was sure she’d never sleep, but when she opened her eyes again, it was light.

  Flinging the covers aside, she got out of bed, wondering what time it was. Her little clock was somewhere among the things they’d brought. She’d find it before the day was through. She’d rolled up the marriage certificate and other papers she’d brought, and they were beside her bed inside one of the bags of clothes. She’d have to find a new hiding place for them today. Just in case.

  Lizzie didn’t stir when she got up. Her son turned over and sighed in his sleep as she passed the sofa. Sunshine showed through gaps in the curtains. It was going to be a lovely day. She’d take that as an omen.

  This is my new life, she told herself firmly. And I’m going to make it a good one for us all.

  When Barty dropped Nathan off at home, he asked, ‘Do you want me to drive you over to check that they’re all right this evening?’

  ‘It’s a bit far for you to come.’ Nathan fumbled in his pocket for his wallet and pulled out a five-pound note. ‘Thank you for your help today.’

  ‘That’s too much, sir.’

  ‘No, it isn’t. You were risking yourself and your car last night and I’m grateful.’

  ‘How will you get over to see them tonight, then?’

  Nathan smiled. ‘I’ve been thinking of buying a car for myself. I have a friend who wants to sell one. My father’s very much against it, but I shall ignore that. I’m going to need one if I continue to help Mrs Latimer. I pass his house on my way to work so I’ll tell my friend’s wife to ask him if I can try the car out tonight. If it goes all right, I’ll buy it.’

  ‘Whoever invented cars did us all a service.’ Barty patted the bonnet of his. ‘I couldn’t have carried on working on a farm after I got injured.’ He grinned. ‘And it’s all turned out well, because I like driving much better than tending to cows.’

  He leant closer to add, ‘Mrs Latimer bought me the car and gave it to me – just gave it, can you imagine that? Her only condition was that I drive her whenever she needs to go somewhere. I’d do anything for her. I was in despair when she stepped in.’

  Nathan made an encouraging sound, because he was finding this interesting.

  ‘She and I live in the same village, so tomorrow I’ll go and tell her how Mrs Seaton and the children are and, if I know her, she’ll want to come and meet them as soon as she can, to see what else they need.’

  ‘She must be a wonderful person.’

  ‘The ladies who inherit Greyladies always are, from what my grandfather and father have told me. Latimers have always been there at the big house in Challerton for as long as people can remember.’

  ‘If you and Mrs Latimer do drive over to see Mrs Seaton tomorrow, perhaps you could leave a message at our office, to say whether my help is still needed for anything specific? Would Mrs Latimer mind stopping to do that?’

  ‘I’m sure she wouldn’t mind at all, sir.’

  ‘I’ll tell the junior clerk to fetch me if you turn up.’

  It was only after Barty had left that Nathan remembered that Latimer was one of his mother’s family names. How strange! He and this kind lady might even be related.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  In the morning the maid had to shake him twice to wake him up.

  ‘You’d better hurry, Mr Nathan, or you’ll be late for breakfast.’

  He grunted and opened his eyes, staring at her for a moment till he realised what she was saying. Then he blew out a long, weary breath and tried to work out what to do. He’d only had a couple of hours’ sleep and felt in desperate need of more. ‘Tell my father I’ll not be coming down to breakfast today and I’ll be late getting to the office, because I was out late last night helping a friend who was in trouble.’

  She gasped and looked at him pleadingly. ‘I daren’t tell him that, Mr Nathan. He’d go mad at me and he might even dismiss me for not waking you sooner. You know how he insists on everyone in the house being punctual to the minute.’

  To his minute, Nathan thought. His father insisted on the servants and his family showering attention on him and his routines, as if he was the only person who mattered in the whole world.

  The muddy feeling was beginning to clear from his brain and anger was replacing it, but that wasn’t the maid’s fault. ‘I suppose he will take it out on you. Sorry, Alice. I’ll come down and tell him myself.’ She’d been with them for ten years and he’d hate to get her into trouble.

  He got out of bed and fumbled his way into his dressing gown, muttering, ‘Him and his stupid rules!’ as he tied his belt any old how. He was twenty-seven years old and the changes he’d been thinking about suddenly came together in his mind. The time had come to manage his own life. He’d saved some money and could well afford to rent and run a small home of his own, even though his wages weren’t generous. So he was going to make a few changes.

  And he wasn’t going to allow his father to treat him like a child at work, either. He was good at what he did and could easily get a job elsewhere or even start up his own accounting firm. He’d dreamt of doing that, usually when his father was more tetchy than usual. It’d have to be in another town a long way away from his father, though, or he knew his father would blacken his name to people.

  But the main reason he’d not made any changes before remained the same: his mother. Once he’d got enough money together, he’d stayed for her sake, because his father always took his ill humour out on her. She had a way of giving her son pleading glances, as if asking him not to upset her husband, and some of the things his father said made him feel desperately sorry for her. But it had been difficult at times to bite his tongue, very difficult.

  His poor mother had been even more meek than usual lately and he’d been wondering why. What had his father been saying to her in private?

  Even for her, Nathan couldn’t go on like this any longer. If a woman without much money like Kathleen Seaton, with two children depending on her, could run away from her enemies and take a brave leap into the future, so could he.

  He ran lightly down the stairs and walked straight into the dining room, where his father insisted they eat all their meals
in some state, giving the poor servants a lot of unnecessary work.

  Pausing in the doorway, he watched his father shake out the newspaper, pretending not to have heard him come in. His mother was staring across the room, her eyes vacant, waiting for her husband to signal the start of breakfast, not moving to serve herself yet.

  Was it his imagination or did she seem to have done a lot of staring into space lately?

  It was as if Nathan was seeing the scene for the first time. His father was doing what he wanted and his mother was taking care not to interrupt or disturb her husband. Neither of them seemed to care about their son’s happiness, or anyone else’s needs, come to that, just as long as their little domestic games were played out to his father’s satisfaction.

  At last his mother seemed to realise he was there. She shot a quick glance in his direction, her mouth falling open in shock to see him in his nightclothes still. She looked hastily towards her husband, who was still refolding his newspaper in precisely the same way he always did, then jerked her head as if to tell her son to go away and get dressed.

  Nathan shook his head, leant against the door frame and waited, unable to suppress another yawn.

  Having got the newspaper sorted out to his satisfaction in precisely the correct folds, his father looked across at him. His mouth firmed to a thin line for a few seconds, then he spoke even more loudly than usual. ‘What on earth do you think you’re doing coming down in your nightclothes at this hour of the morning, Nathan?’

  ‘I’m about to go back to bed. I just needed to tell you that I won’t be coming into work until mid-morning. I was out helping a friend who was in trouble yesterday and didn’t get back here until after three o’clock.’

  ‘They had no right asking you to stay up that late. You need your sleep if you’re to put in a good day’s work. Your first responsibility is to me as your employer, sir, not to your friends.’

  ‘This was an emergency. Anyway, I’ve no appointments until later, so I’ll catch up on a bit more sleep and come in mid-morning.’

  His father’s voice was like a foghorn. ‘You will come to the office at your usual hour!’

  As a child Nathan had been terrified when his father shouted at him. Now, he merely felt annoyed. ‘I don’t think there is any need for me to do that.’

  ‘Then your pay will be docked for the whole day. And you can work all day Saturday to make up for it.’

  This was getting more and more ridiculous. ‘I’m afraid I can’t accept you treating me like a child.’

  His father made a few gobbling sounds at this, though whether they were from anger or shock, it wasn’t clear.

  ‘I’ll treat you in any way I wish. I am your father and you owe me your obedience for that, and I’m also your employer, so be very careful not to anger me further. Now, go and get dressed at once. You’ll have to manage without breakfast this morning. I don’t intend either of us to be late for work.’

  ‘No.’ It was a very satisfying little word sometimes.

  His father made some more angry little noises, then snapped, ‘If you don’t come to work, I shall dismiss you, just as I’d dismiss any employee who didn’t obey my rules.’

  His mother let out a whimper of protest, but Nathan ignored that. ‘I can find other employment, just as some of your employees have done over the years when they’d had enough of you shouting at them for no reason.’

  There was dead silence at this. His father’s mouth opened and shut several times, as if he didn’t know what to say next, then he struggled to his feet, took a deep breath and roared at the top of his voice. ‘I will not tolerate this disrespect in my own house.’

  ‘And that brings us to the other thing I need to tell you. It’s more than time I found myself somewhere else to live. A man my age doesn’t usually live at home.’

  ‘That’s because a man your age is usually married. As I’ve told you before. Your mother has introduced you to several very suitable young ladies whose families we know and respect.’

  ‘Well, I haven’t met any lady with whom I wish to spend the rest of my life, however much you like their families, so that is no solution.’

  Then his father said the same words that had threaded his life: ‘I have said my last word on this. Kindly do as you are told.’

  That sharp order added fuel to the anger that had been simmering for years, and it flared up even higher. Nathan was about to turn and leave when he noticed that his father’s face had turned a dark red in colour, such an unnatural colour that he knew something was wrong.

  His mother suddenly pushed her chair back and stretched her hand out to her husband. ‘Felix dear, please calm down. You know what the doctor told you last time you had one of your turns.’

  ‘Damn the doctor! And damn this ungrateful cub.’ Felix tore at his high collar as if it was choking him. ‘I will not—’

  And in a sudden, abrupt silence, his hand dropped away from his collar and he began to topple sideways, slowly like a felled tree. He knocked a chair out of the way, then came to rest on the carpet, face down, one arm outflung.

  Neither of the others moved, then his mother sank to her knees beside her husband. ‘Get his pills!’ She turned him over and finished loosening the tight shirt collar.

  ‘Where are they?’

  ‘In his desk. Hurry!’

  Nathan rushed across the hall to his father’s study, nearly bumping into Alice and yelling, ‘Send for the doctor. My father’s been taken ill.’

  He found the pills in the top drawer and ran back to the dining room with them. His father hadn’t moved and his mother was still on her knees beside her husband but she wasn’t moving either.

  ‘There you are.’ He held the pills out to her.

  ‘It’s too late.’ Her voice was a mere whisper.

  ‘What?’

  ‘It’s too late. Your father’s dead.’

  Nathan stared at her, words choking him and refusing to be uttered. Did I kill him? Why didn’t he tell me he was ill? This is a nightmare. It must be.

  His mother began to struggle to her feet and he helped her up.

  ‘I’ve told Alice to send for the doctor. He’ll know what to do.’

  ‘Felix – is – dead,’ she whispered.

  Then her whole body sagged and Nathan realised she was about to faint. He only just caught her, picking her up and lying her down on the sofa. He stared at her, not sure what to do next.

  She was always pale and lately she had become so thin as to be ethereal. She was like a delicate flower, he’d thought when he was a lad, proud of how pretty she was compared to other lads’ mothers. Her looks had hardly changed in the thirty years since her marriage. Her skin was only faintly lined, her complexion still good, and her hair frosted with grey only at the temples.

  She had always spoken quietly in her husband’s presence and that had grown more marked recently.

  He was about to call for Alice when his mother began to regain consciousness.

  She stared blindly at him for a few seconds then sat up and stared at him, not speaking.

  ‘I’ll just check Father,’ he said.

  He made sure she wasn’t likely to fall off the sofa and knelt beside his father, feeling for a pulse and finding none. ‘You’re right. He’s dead.’

  ‘Poor Felix.’

  He couldn’t bear those staring, slightly bulbous eyes, so closed them. He didn’t know what to do next. Standing up, he turned to ask her, but she was staring down at her clasped hands now.

  She wasn’t weeping, though. And he didn’t feel upset emotionally, because he hadn’t loved his father, and didn’t think Felix Perry had ever cared about anyone else, not even his wife.

  ‘Mother?’

  She turned to him. ‘What must we do now, Nathan?’ She was speaking in a quiet, almost toneless voice again, and it irritated him that she was waiting for him to tell her what to do, as she’d waited during her whole adult life for her husband to give her instructions.

 
His father had always been sure he knew the correct action to take, but Nathan couldn’t for the life of him figure out what he should do next, let alone tell his mother what action to take.

  ‘I don’t know what to do,’ he said baldly. ‘We’ve both let Father dictate how our lives should be lived. Now we each have to find our own way.’

  She looked slightly puzzled and he saw the moment when fear crept across her face. ‘But I don’t know what to do,’ she whispered.

  ‘Shall I send for your maid?’

  But at that moment the front doorbell rang and he heard Alice open the door and greet Dr Chescombe.

  Thank goodness!

  ‘This way, Doctor!’ Nathan shouted.

  Dr Chescombe was older than his father but he was trim and energetic, well respected and liked. The contrast between the two men could not have been greater.

  Nathan watched him kneel down by his father’s body, but he knew what the doctor would tell him.

  ‘I’m afraid he’s dead. A seizure, I should think, from the look of him. Did he get angry about something?’

  Nathan turned to his mother, but she was staring down at her own hands again, so he said it for her. ‘Very angry indeed. I’d just told him I was moving into a home of my own and since I missed my sleep last night due to an emergency, I wasn’t going into work till later.’

  ‘He wouldn’t like that.’

  ‘No. I think I killed him.’ He didn’t relish the thought of that.

  The doctor came across and laid one hand on his shoulder, a comforting gesture. Nathan couldn’t remember his father ever touching him willingly, let alone offering comfort.

  ‘No, Nathan, you weren’t to blame. He killed himself, because he wouldn’t moderate his behaviour, and refused point-blank to eat less, let alone refrain from flying into rages. I’ve warned him several times that this could happen, haven’t I, Mrs Perry?’