The Honeyfield Bequest

by Anna Jacobs

Mr Parkin joined him in front of the safe. ‘Oh, dear! Look at that! The cash box is missing. Oh, and the petty cash box too. There was a lot of money in the cash box because, as you know, your father would only put money in the bank once a week.’

  ‘Anyone who worked here would know that. He made quite a parade of going to the bank on Friday mornings, carrying the bag of money. Do you have some figures for what’s missing?’

  ‘Yes. Or at least your father does – did. They should be in his little black book. I hope the thief didn’t take that! It’s kept in the top drawer of this desk, and that’s the key to it.’ He pointed to a small key.

  Nathan used it to open the drawer. ‘His black notebook is here.’

  ‘Thank goodness!’

  ‘Have you any idea what’s happened to Mr Galton?’

  ‘I’m afraid not. And when I looked inside his personal drawer this morning, it had been cleared out.’

  They stared at one another as the obvious reason came to mind.

  ‘I think we’d better call in the police.’ Nathan rubbed his forehead, which was still aching. ‘Could you send someone to fetch them? Or do you think I should go myself?’

  ‘No, no. You look weary, and no wonder with what you’ve had to face today. We’ll send the office boy. Tim is a good lad and I’m sure he won’t say a word to anyone else. I’ll call him in.’

  While they were waiting for the lad to return from the police station, they used the black book to calculate how much money was missing.

  Nathan stared at the figures. ‘Over a thousand pounds! Why on earth did we keep so much cash on the premises?’

  ‘It was from the sale of a house, the one you sold in Wayson Road.’

  ‘Any sane person would have put that much money straight into the bank.’

  The clerk’s grimace said he agreed.

  Since the police hadn’t yet arrived, Nathan got Mr Parkin to help him go through his father’s desk drawers, which were surprisingly untidy, and crammed with rubbish, as were the low cupboard by the window and the filing cabinet, both fitted with locks. It was as if his father had been afraid to throw anything away.

  Nathan wondered how he could have worked here for so long and not known all this? But then, no one went into his father’s office uninvited, let alone fiddled around in his drawers and cupboards – except Mr Parkin, who was going to be invaluable in sorting it all out.

  And Nathan might be the only son, but increasingly his father had had him working on the house selling side, especially with the smaller properties, rather than doing the accounts for their various customers.

  The doctor said his mother was going senile, but his father’s mind must have been failing too. This was a ridiculous way to run a modern business! Nathan was going to change a lot of things from now on.

  If he still had a business to run!

  Mr Parkin cleared his throat, looking even more unhappy, if that were possible.

  ‘What else do you need to tell me?’

  ‘There are debts. Your father hasn’t paid some of our suppliers for a while. In fact, he’s been waiting till the last minute to pay anyone. The accounting side of the business hasn’t been doing as well as it used to. That’s why you were selling houses a lot of the time. The commission from that side of things saved us more than once.’

  Nathan closed his eyes, swallowing hard, then opened them again and asked, ‘Are there any more shocks waiting for me?’

  The old man was near tears. ‘The insurance. Your father let it lapse. Said we didn’t need it because we could look after the office ourselves.’

  ‘Had he run mad? Why did I not notice?’

  ‘I must confess that he had become … well, rather strange. Ever since he started being … not so well. I think he’d been working too hard.’

  ‘That’s putting it politely. As well as mismanaging the business, he disobeyed the doctor and refused to look after his own health, and he’s been more bad-tempered than ever at home.’

  ‘Here too.’

  ‘I didn’t realise he was doing such stupid things, though. Is that all the bad news?’

  ‘I think so, Mr Na—I mean, Mr Perry. I’m sorry. I didn’t feel it was my place to tell you about it before, not while he was, um, coping.’

  He could see the anxiety on the older man’s face. ‘It’s not your fault, Mr Parkin, and of course you were right to keep your worries to yourself. I know better than most what my father was like. I want you to know that I value your hard work, and I hope you and I will work together happily for a good many years yet.’

  ‘You won’t … want a younger clerk to take charge, someone with more modern ways?’

  ‘Definitely not. You and I will learn modern ways of doing things and put them into operation here together. At least we have a telephone, so we’ve got one useful piece of modern equipment.’

  Mr Parkin pulled out a large handkerchief and blew his nose loudly. ‘Thank you. I shall always do my best, I promise. Now, if you don’t need me any more, I’d better get back to work till the police arrive.’

  Nathan nodded and managed a half-smile. As he sat waiting for the police, he couldn’t help wondering whether he’d been promising more than he could deliver. What if there wasn’t enough money left for them to stay in business after they’d repaid this customer’s house sale money and paid off the other debts? They’d have to pay back the money that had been stolen themselves if the business was no longer insured. And pay the tradesmen’s bills, and whatever else was owing.

  When word got out about the robbery, the firm’s reputation would suffer. And it would get out eventually, one way or another. The question was, would enough people continue to use their services to keep the business running? People liked to feel sure about the safety of their money and the good status of the people who handled their accounts.

  The sound of voices heralded the arrival of a young police constable, and when he found out how serious the burglary was, with a large sum of money missing, he insisted on going back to the police station and sending his sergeant to take over the investigation instead.

  ‘Phone him from here!’ Nathan said, very close to losing his temper. ‘It’ll be much quicker.’

  The constable froze for a moment, then something about Mr Perry’s expression seemed to galvanise him. ‘Very well, sir. If you don’t mind me using your telephone.’

  The sergeant was there within ten minutes, which was one benefit of modern equipment, Nathan thought grimly.

  He sent word that he’d be home late, and stayed on until eight o’clock that night compiling accurate accounts, with Mr Parkin helping him.

  Only as he walked home did he allow himself to think of his personal life. There could be no question now of getting to know Mrs Seaton better. He’d have nothing to offer a wife for years yet.

  But he would send her a letter explaining that his father had left the business in a mess and that he would therefore be occupied for ‘a good long time’ in sorting things out, so was sorry not to be able to help her settle in.

  He might at least do that, because he didn’t like to think of leaving her wondering why he was avoiding her.

  During the next two weeks Nathan only took time off work to buy suitable mourning garments and to attend his father’s funeral. He didn’t invite guests to the house afterwards, because he knew his mother wouldn’t be able to cope. Instead he told one or two rather gossipy people that his mother wasn’t well, sure that information would be passed on.

  He and Mr Parkin took on the work of Galton, thus saving one salary, and some of their old customers rallied round, though others sought the services of other accountants.

  To his relief, Alice was as much a tower of strength at home as Mr Parkin was at the office.

  His mother seemed to fade daily and was more like a ghost creeping round the house than the kind, smiling woman who’d raised him.

  At least without his father bullying everyone, his home was a more peaceful place to be. But
it was lonely, because his mother no longer contributed much to conversations, whatever topic he introduced.

  Mrs Seaton wrote to him, offering her condolences and thanking him for doing her the courtesy of informing her of the reasons for his inability to help.

  She had beautiful handwriting and he kept her letter, taking it out now and then just to touch the only tangible evidence of a might-have-been.

  Life could take some choices away from you almost as soon as you found them.

  As Harriet Latimer was driven towards Honeyfield, she thought about Nathan. She was sorry his father had died, though she hadn’t liked the man, because death wasn’t easy for those left behind, whatever the circumstances.

  The weather was sunny again today. It was the most glorious summer she could ever remember. They didn’t get to Honeyfield House until around eleven o’clock and she hoped poor Mrs Seaton hadn’t been too anxious. She sounded to be a capable woman, from what Nathan had said. Harriet smiled. She’d been thinking ‘young woman’ but Mrs Seaton must be around her own age.

  She found her new occupant giving the two children a snack in the kitchen with Sal sitting in a rocking chair nursing the baby in one corner. It was a placid, domestic scene to gladden the eye, even though it was taking place in a dusty, run-down house which desperately needed a thorough sorting out.

  She went forward, hand outstretched. ‘I’m so glad to meet you, Mrs Seaton. Or may I call you Kathleen?’

  ‘Please do.’ She looked across at Sal, who was staring at her in surprise.

  ‘I thought your name was Wareham.’

  ‘Oh, I’m so sorry,’ Harriet said. ‘I only know you as Mrs Seaton and Nathan was in rather a hurry this morning. He didn’t tell me you’d chosen a new name.’

  Kathleen smiled. ‘It doesn’t matter, but I will use Wareham with outsiders from now on, if you don’t mind. It’ll be safer. Seaton’s my old name, Sal, and my enemy’s name too, so I hope you’ll keep it to yourself and use only Wareham.’

  ‘A-course I will. Good idea, changing names. I might do the same.’ She winked at the children. ‘You two can help me choose a new one.’

  Harriet went across to peer at the baby she’d helped bring into the world. ‘She’s doing well, isn’t she, Sal? A very healthy-looking infant. What have you called her?’

  ‘Barbara, after my mother. But she’ll probably end up being called Babs.’

  ‘It’s a lovely name either way. Now, Mrs Wareham, I have a message from Nathan. Could we go and discuss it in the sitting room? Sal, would you keep an eye on the children, please?’

  ‘Happy to. Or else they can keep an eye on me and the baby.’

  The children grinned, already seeming quite comfortable with her.

  The sitting room was dusty and smelt of mice. ‘I don’t think I want to sit on this furniture till it’s been thoroughly cleaned and the cushions beaten,’ Harriet said. ‘And we must set traps for the mice. Let’s go and stand in the bay window to talk. It has a pretty view, or it will be pretty once we get the garden tidied up. I suppose we’ll have to bring some men in to scythe that long grass.’

  ‘It’d be a pity to get rid of the meadow, if you don’t mind me saying so, Mrs Latimer. Wild flowers are prettier than grass and they’re attracting lots of bees. We could get some beehives and produce our own honey.’

  ‘What a good idea! We’ll look into that later. I don’t know anything about bee-keeping, though. Do you?’

  Kathleen shook her head. ‘No. I don’t know what made me suggest it. The idea just popped into my head. It’s because of the house being called Honeyfield, I suppose.’

  ‘Well, I’m sure I’ve read somewhere that you can let other people put their beehives on your land and they’ll give you a share of the honey in payment. That would work even better for our purpose. Now, first things first … Nathan. He’s going to write to you himself because he was planning to come here later today to help you settle in. Only, I’m afraid his father dropped dead this morning so that isn’t possible now.’

  ‘Oh, how sad!’

  Mrs Latimer gave her a wry smile. ‘They were arguing at the time and they didn’t get on at all well, so it’s not as sad as it might be. Can you manage without his help for the time being?’

  ‘Oh, yes, I’m sure I can. I’ve already been into the village and bought a few things to eat, as you can see. There’s a very good baker there and a general store. And we can buy apples from some of the nearby farmers, I gather.’

  ‘Good. I’ll set up accounts at the village shops before I go home, because when Honeyfield House is in operation, you’ll never know how many people you’re going to be feeding from one week to the next, and it won’t be your responsibility to pay for the groceries. You’ll need to keep careful accounts for the trust, though. Do you know how to keep accounts? If not, we can find someone to teach you.’

  Kathleen smiled. ‘I think I can cope if you show me what sort of accounts you want. I intended to become a secretary before I got married, you see, so I studied account-keeping and typing, among other things. Against my father’s wishes, I might add. I’m like Mr Perry. I don’t get on very well with my father and it wouldn’t upset me if I never saw him again.’

  ‘That’s sad. But your knowledge of accounting will be helpful. I can see you’re going to do well here. In fact … let me think for a moment.’ She paused and looked round, closing her eyes as if listening to something.

  Kathleen didn’t like to disturb her, because she looked very peaceful, so waited, still enjoying the view.

  Mrs Latimer opened her eyes. ‘The house feels “right” now that you’re here. I can always tell. So if you want to take on the job of matron permanently, I’ll be very happy to employ you.’

  Kathleen was startled. ‘Don’t you want to see how I go first?’

  ‘I don’t need to. The houses our trust runs seem to acquire a warm, friendly atmosphere once we get the right person in charge. It always feels as if some kindly spirit is keeping an eye on the houses and giving approval of the new matron and her helpers.’

  ‘I know what you mean. Last night I felt—’ Kathleen flushed and hoped she wouldn’t sound silly, ‘as if someone kissed me goodnight.’

  ‘Exactly. Our friendly spirit. And Sal seems to fit in here too. Would you be happy to work with her?’

  ‘Oh, yes. We already get on well and she’s good with children. There’s only one thing worrying me. What if Godfrey Seaton finds me and attacks this house? There’s no one close enough for us to shout for help.’

  ‘We shall employ a strong man to look after the grounds and maintenance, not just for you but to protect anyone who’s staying here. It’s usual to do that in places of refuge like this. Some of the women we’ll be helping will have violent men pursuing them. We may get a dog, as well, to help keep watch.’

  ‘It would be a relief to have a strong man to turn to, I must admit, and the children would go wild with delight to have a dog.’

  ‘So you’ll work as matron here?’

  ‘Yes, please, Mrs Latimer. It’s such a peaceful house.’

  ‘Let’s walk round the gardens together, then, and discuss what needs doing and in what order you should do it. I’d love to stretch my legs. Then we’ll go into the village together and set up those accounts at the shops. Will you be happy to leave the children with Sal?’

  ‘They’ll be fine, but should I not keep out of sight while you’re organising all this?’

  ‘No. That would look suspicious. But we definitely won’t take your children with us into the village yet. If whoever has been trying to harm you comes to Honeyfield, they’ll be asking about a lady with two children, not two ladies.’

  She looked thoughtful and added, ‘With the baby, there will be three children here, which may further confuse the situation for anyone looking.’

  Kathleen didn’t know what to say to that. Indeed this whole experience was like something from a dream. A good dream, though. She had never beli
eved in ghosts, or spirits, or whatever you called them. Not till she got to Honeyfield.

  But she was disappointed that she wouldn’t be seeing Mr Perry until after he’d buried his father and gone through the necessary formalities to take over the family business. That could take months. Would he still bother to come and visit her? She hoped he would, because she’d taken a liking to him, felt truly comfortable with him, far more comfortable than she ever had with Ernest.

  That was strange, because she hardly knew Mr Perry.

  She sighed. As if a gentleman like him would be interested in someone like her, a nobody from an Irish background.

  Honestly! You’d think she’d have stopped building castles in the air at her age.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  For the next two months all went well at Honeyfield House. Mrs Latimer insisted a matron wasn’t there to undertake the heavy cleaning and employed a woman from the village to help Sal with that.

  It quickly became obvious that Sal actually enjoyed scrubbing and cleaning. She would call ‘Matron’ to come and look every time she and her helper finished another room, and stand beaming both at its cleanliness and the praise given her.

  She also kept the baby clean and happy, singing softly as she fed and changed little Babs.

  Mrs Latimer hadn’t yet found a strong man to help at Honeyfield, but she’d had the telephone installed, which made Kathleen feel a lot safer. At least she could call the village policeman for help now.

  When she went to the shops, however, she still kept a wary eye open for strangers in the village and made sure she reminded the children regularly to take care who they spoke to.

  Then Kit, as her son was now called, came running home from his new school one day with Lizzie pounding after him. ‘There was a man waiting outside our school today, Mum, so I took Lizzie back inside and we climbed out over the back wall of the yard instead. I don’t think he saw where we went.’

  ‘We ran and ran!’ Lizzie corroborated.

  Kathleen’s heart began to thump with apprehension and Sal stopped what she was doing to listen.