The Honeyfield Bequest

by Anna Jacobs

  ‘Fancy you spending money on finding me.’ Kathleen said.

  His voice grew sharper. ‘Spending it on keeping an eye on my family, more like. The others are all right at the moment but you aren’t safe yet.’

  ‘This is a new thing for you.’

  ‘Aye. It is. Being on your own leaves too much time for thinking, and regretting.’

  ‘What about your lady friend? What does she think of it all? Have you told her about me?’

  ‘No, I haven’t. When I decided I wasn’t ready to marry straight away, she was quick to find someone else. And besides … she was a bit stupid-like. I’ve had one stupid wife. I don’t want another.’

  Kathleen had never thought how much it must have irritated him to live with Deirdre. Her mother hadn’t been quick-thinking, to put it mildly, as well as being a very poor manager. Kathleen reckoned she took after their father, and so did her brother Daniel.

  She walked to the end of the lane with him, not saying much. To her relief he made no attempt to touch her or kiss her. Well, he never had been one for ‘mauling folk around’ as he called it.

  She watched him stroll back into the centre of Honeyfield village and go round behind the pub. She stayed watching, hiding behind a tree, till she saw him ride off on a horse. At least he’d told the truth about how he got here.

  Only after he was out of sight did she walk slowly back to the house, finding it hard to sort out her thoughts. Did she believe her father or not? Was he protecting her or was he working for Godfrey Seaton, protecting his own interests? Should she leave now … or wait and see what happened?

  She asked Sal what she thought but she wasn’t much use because Sal thought her father was a ‘fine figure of a man’ and seemed dazzled by Fergus.

  So Kathleen decided to telephone Mr Perry and tell him what had happened, and ask his advice again.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Nathan had worked out a rough outline of what had to be done to remedy his father’s mistakes, calculating as best he could how long it’d take him to sort it all out and what he had to do first. His father’s old-fashioned ways had probably led to some people going elsewhere for help with their accounts.

  Broadly speaking, it would take a year or so to work through the financial tangles and pay off the debts, depending on how many of their remaining customers stayed with them.

  And then it’d take a further year to build up their clientele again, so that his firm was making a decent profit. It would be a more modest profit than in their heyday because they’d lost some of the bigger farmers and certain country gentlemen who’d relied on them for many years to do the accounts or to check their other employees’ accuracy.

  On a personal level, he intended to work long hours at a job that he only admitted to himself he didn’t enjoy and never had done. At home, he’d live frugally, keeping only the servants necessary to look after his mother and using only the rooms they actually needed. His social life wasn’t going to be very full because he was too busy, but he would accept a few invitations from family friends and people useful in business.

  He soon realised that the local families now saw him as an eligible suitor for their unmarried daughters. He wasn’t, either financially or emotionally. He still dreamt about another young woman with lovely dark hair, clear blue eyes and the slightest of Irish lilts in her voice.

  And he even dreamt occasionally, as he had in his youth, about following in the footsteps of the fictional Sherlock Holmes and becoming a detective. He didn’t know why this had appealed to him so much, but it had – and still did. To help people right wrongs or to find things or people they’d lost would be much more interesting and worthwhile.

  His mother’s condition was known about now and apart from asking how she was, people no longer tried to invite her out to tea or dinner, or even send her messages. It was sad because although she was quieter than before, she still enjoyed a conversation about something simple. He was grateful for Alice, who was wonderful with her, looking after her devotedly.

  Mrs Latimer had engaged Perry’s to handle the accounts at Honeyfield, and that had helped him find one or two other customers. But he didn’t intend to go out to the house himself to check the books every month. It would be too … distracting. Instead he would send the new accountant he’d recently employed, Jason Norcott. That young man had an excellent brain for figures, better than himself, Nathan suspected.

  He would continue to sell houses for people in the area, something he quite enjoyed. He wished there were more houses to sell. Perhaps he should sell the accounting side of the firm and move somewhere busier to concentrate on house sales.

  Who knew what was best? At present he had debts to pay and a mother to care for, a woman who needed to be in the same rooms at the same time of day, or to visit the same shops. The doctor said she would be greatly upset if he moved her away from her familiar home and advised strongly against changing anything at this stage.

  He continued to watch and appreciate Jason’s skill at work. His father would never have hired a man like that, would have considered him too ‘uppity’ with his employer and too friendly with the other employees. Nathan liked the way Jason got on well with everyone, including Mr Parkin, to whom he was always very respectful. The chief clerk seemed a happier man these days, had lost his anxious look and nervous mannerisms.

  Nathan’s thoughts drifted to Kathleen again. He still thought about her more often than he ought to. In his mind she was always ‘Kathleen’ now, not ‘Mrs Wareham’ or ‘Matron’. But as long as he kept his thoughts about her to himself, he could let himself dream now and then, surely?

  He’d seen her in Malmesbury once but she hadn’t seen him and he’d turned down a side street to avoid an encounter, then wished he hadn’t.

  He’d run into her in Honeyfield a few days ago. She’d been approaching along the footpath and he hadn’t been able to turn aside without being rude, so had raised his hat and stopped to exchange greetings. He still remembered every word.

  ‘How are you keeping, Mrs Wareham?’

  ‘I’m very well, thank you. You look a little tired, if you don’t mind me saying so, Mr Perry.’

  ‘I’ve been rather busy and my mother isn’t in good health.’

  ‘I heard. I’m so sorry.’

  He hadn’t been able to resist prolonging the discussion a little. ‘I saw your children the other day coming out of the village school. They looked full of energy.’

  She smiled. ‘Yes. They love living here. You should see how much Kit eats these days. I think he’s going to be a tall man once he’s fully grown.’

  ‘He’s what, nine now, am I right?’

  ‘Yes, and ought to be studying hard to get into a grammar school, he’s such a clever lad. But you know how we’re circumstanced.’

  ‘It’s such a pity. He’d win a scholarship, I’m sure.’

  She forced a smile, but it faded almost at once. ‘Oh well, you can’t have everything. And Mr Fleming is a very stimulating teacher. Kit thinks a lot of him.’

  ‘So Lizzie must be eight?’

  ‘Almost. That girl has the most vivid imagination. She—Sorry, you can’t be interested in such details.’

  ‘I am interested. I like to hear about your children. I wish I wasn’t so … um, busy.’

  She flushed slightly, as if she’d guessed what he really wanted to say.

  ‘Are you going to continue sending Mr Norcott to look over our accounts?’

  ‘Yes. He’s very efficient and it’s a straightforward job.’

  She didn’t say it, but her eyes said she wished it were him coming to Honeyfield House.

  Nathan hadn’t allowed himself to continue chatting. He’d only be torturing himself because every time he saw her, he found her more attractive. He’d tipped his hat to her, claimed an appointment with a client and walked on along the street, resisting the temptation to glance back at her till just before he turned a corner.

  But she was still watc
hing him, so he raised his hand and forced himself to walk on.

  She was as charming as ever. And as lovely. He dreamt of her that night. He dreamt of her far too often.

  One evening the telephone rang in his office and Nathan answered it since he was the only person left in the building. He often worked late. What was there to go home for?

  ‘Mr Perry?’

  He didn’t need to ask who it was. ‘K—Mrs Seaton. I hope you’re well.’

  ‘Not exactly. You know I had a visit from my father?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Could I talk to you, ask your advice? I’m not sure whether to run away, you see. I’ve thought and thought and I can’t make up my mind.’

  Her voice was tight with anxiety, and no wonder.

  ‘Your father didn’t … cause you any trouble, though.’

  ‘No. He just wanted to talk. But what he said, well, I can’t decide whether to believe him or not, whether to stay or to go. I badly need advice. I know how busy you are, and I’m sorry to impose, but perhaps I could come and see you? I can pay one of the farmer’s lads to drive me to Malmesbury and—’

  ‘No need. I have my own motor car now, remember? I’ll come and see you at once in case the matter of your leaving is urgent.’ If it was, did he dare offer her asylum in his own home? He would if necessary and hang what people might say. He wasn’t risking her getting hurt. He’d heard rumours of Godfrey Seaton’s ruthlessness more than once, especially since the fellow had taken over Seaton’s.

  He was away from the desk in seconds, not putting away the papers on it, only locking the safe and the outer door. The motor car was parked in the street nearby, for convenience, in case he had to go out to a farm. He had it started in a minute.

  She had sounded anxious.

  He didn’t want her to leave the district. And he wouldn’t allow anyone to hurt her.

  It was only a fifteen-minute drive to Honeyfield, but it seemed longer.

  Kathleen heard a car coming slowly along the deeply rutted lane much sooner than she’d expected. He must have driven quickly. She’d asked Sal to go to bed, so that she could talk privately with Nathan – no, she must remember to call him Mr Perry.

  She opened the back door and cried out in shock as a man shoved it wider, holding it open, saying, ‘This is the one he wants.’ Then he grabbed her.

  She screamed at the top of her voice and struggled against him, but he was taller and much stronger than she was and she could only slow him down as he dragged her towards the waiting car. Another man had taken the key out of the back door and locked it from the outside.

  When she didn’t stop screaming, her captor put his hand across her mouth, but she bit him good and hard.

  He cursed and slapped her so viciously across the face she felt dizzy for a few moments, by which time he had shoved her into the car.

  The other man slipped into the back seat beside them, saying, ‘Go on!’

  The driver set off and the two men held her down between them.

  ‘Even easier than I’d expected,’ one of them said.

  ‘She’s a pretty one with her hair all tumbled round her face like that.’

  ‘Don’t lay one finger on her. He’ll find a way to make you sorry if you do anything except exactly what he’s told you. He insists on his orders being followed to the letter. And he pays well, so it’s worth it.’

  ‘Pity. Do you think we should tie her up?’

  ‘Wouldn’t hurt to tie her hands together. It’ll make it easier for us to handle her at the other end.’

  ‘And easier for him too.’ The other man tittered.

  ‘Why are you doing this?’ Kathleen asked. ‘What have I ever done to you?’

  ‘We’ve been paid to take you. Now shut up or I’ll put a gag in your mouth.’

  She shut up, but only to keep them from gagging her. If she saw any chance, she’d be screaming for help to passers-by. And she could still kick them, too, once they were out of the car.

  Kathleen was given no chance to call for help because the car didn’t stop. They nearly bumped into another vehicle coming towards them just outside Honeyfield and after that, they didn’t see anyone else, but racketed along the country roads and drove across junctions, without the driver seeming to watch for other drivers.

  She was sitting in the middle of the back seat so could see out through the front window. She heard dogs bark as they passed isolated houses and farms, saw foxes and badgers slink out of their path and once they hit some small animal, a rabbit she thought, which squealed just once.

  Her heart sank when they arrived in Swindon and turned into a yard with a sign above the double gates saying ‘Seaton and Sons, Carters’. The driver got out and shut the big gates behind them.

  It was definitely Godfrey who’d paid to have her kidnapped, then. Well, she’d guessed that. Who else could it be? Was he going to kill her? Was he really that wicked?

  If anything happened to her, what would he do to her children?

  She tried not to let her fears show in her face. Bullies liked to see that you were afraid of them.

  But she was terrified.

  Just before he reached Honeyfield Nathan had to brake and swerve suddenly as a bigger car coming the other way hurtled round the corner towards him. He just managed to stay out of the ditch, cursing people who didn’t learn to drive properly. No wonder so many people were being killed in accidents with motor vehicles. They weren’t used to vehicles that could go so fast, either as drivers or pedestrians.

  That was the only car he passed. Well, you didn’t see many cars on these country roads in daytime, let alone after dark. Cars were too expensive, far beyond the common man’s purse.

  He drove slowly and carefully for the last few hundred yards towards his turn-off, meeting no one else, thank goodness.

  When he got to Honeyfield House, he found lights on everywhere and Sal peered out of the kitchen window then flung the door open. The children were behind her and Lizzie’s face was streaked with tears while Kit looked angry. The lad had a rolling pin in his hand, brandishing it like a weapon.

  ‘Don’t switch off that motor, Mr Perry,’ Sal yelled as soon as she recognised him. ‘They’ve taken Kathleen. You have to go after them.’

  ‘What? Who’s taken Kathleen?’

  ‘Some men. I’d gone to bed because she wanted to speak to you privately, but I looked out when I heard her screaming and I saw two men dragging her towards a car.’

  ‘I came running down but I was too late,’ Kit said. ‘Why have they taken Mum away?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ Nathan looked back at Sal. ‘You’ve no idea who they were?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Tell me what the car looked like.’

  She stared at him blankly and it was left to Kit, a car enthusiast like most little boys, to describe the car. ‘It was a Sunbeam, I’m sure it was. Four-cylinder with a side valve. Someone drove it in the reliability run and it went from Land’s End to John O’Groats and back without an engine stop. And—’

  ‘All right. I know the sort of car you mean. The one that nearly ran me off the road just before I got to the village could have been a Sunbeam,’ Nathan said slowly, thinking aloud. ‘In fact, now you mention it, I’m sure it was. I bet that was them. But they’ll be long gone now and hard to find. Is there a village policeman?’

  ‘Yes. But he’s not much use.’

  ‘Better him than no one. Does he have a telephone? No? Then tell me where he lives.’

  ‘I’ll show you,’ Kit said at once. ‘It’s round the back of the main street. Let me come with you, please. I want to help catch those men who hurt my mother. I can put my overcoat on top of my pyjamas.’ He grabbed it from the hook near the back door.

  Nathan nodded. ‘All right. It’ll be quicker. But afterwards you’ll have to walk back here on your own from the main road, Kit. Will you be all right in the dark?’

  ‘Yes, of course. I’ll take this with me.’ He brandished the r
olling pin again.

  Nathan looked at Sal. ‘Keep the doors locked. Don’t let anyone in unless you know them.’

  ‘You’ll find her, sir.’

  ‘I’ll do my best.’

  ‘It’ll be that Mr Godfrey who took over from her father-in-law. She told me about it all.’

  ‘That’s what I’m thinking. And I know where he lives.’

  ‘I’d come with you, but my Babs is too little and there’s Lizzie to keep safe as well.’

  ‘Better you stay here. After I’ve left, go round and check that all the windows are locked. And don’t answer the door to any stranger. Come on, young ’un.’

  They set off again, but Nathan didn’t dare drive too fast along the bumpy lane. He didn’t want to damage his car. It was the only way he had of following her.

  He was cursing himself for not taking better care of Kathleen and vowing that he’d get her back, whatever it took. If they’d hurt her, he’d make sure they suffered too. Oh, yes. And to hell with the law. He’d do whatever was necessary.

  ‘Turn right after the pub, Mr Perry.’

  He did as the boy told him and after two more turns they found the village policeman’s house.

  Everything was dark and they had to wake up the plump young man who was the village bobby.

  It took a while to make him understand what had happened and in the end Nathan shouted, ‘Get dressed as quick as you can and I’ll explain the details while we go. They’ve kidnapped Mrs Seaton and could be hurting her even as we speak.’

  The young man ran inside, muttering under his breath, but came out again more quickly than Nathan had expected, brandishing a truncheon.

  At the turn off to Honeyfield House, Nathan stopped. ‘Out you get, young ’un.’

  ‘Let me come with you. Please!’

  ‘No! Out! You’re delaying us.’

  Sulkily Kit got out of the car, kicking the nearest tyre.

  Just as Nathan was starting off again, a dog ran out of a garden barking and he had to brake hard.