The Cornish Knot

by Vicky Adin

  Once everyone was settled comfortably, Megan began.

  “It seems our Constance Trevallyan had two sides to her, depending on who you talk to. The compassionate side, shown only to the people who had cared for her when she was young, and the ruthless businesswoman side.”

  “Business first,” interrupted Jason. “I want to know what it means for us.”

  Megan related how, after her brother’s death, Constance uncovered the extent of his recklessness and financial losses, by which time the family fortune had all gone.

  “She had no option but to find ways to rebuild. By callously buying and selling failing businesses at rock-bottom prices she ended up owning shares in most of the growth industries of the time: railways, refrigeration, fishing fleets and farms. Constance was a seriously wealthy woman, hated by some and beloved by others.”

  This time she’d grabbed the boys’ attention.

  “Do we get anything?” asked Jason.

  “I’m getting to that. Just wait.”

  Like her when she’d first heard the details, Megan’s audience struggled to comprehend half of what she told them. She sympathised. The weight of her words would take time to sink in.

  Nick, whose business brain was working overtime, still couldn’t resist asking questions.

  “Yes, that’s right,” she answered. “Even today Constance controls what happens: it was all in her will. She bought loyalty. Everyone in the corporation gets a bonus based on how much profit goes to charity. The bigger the one, the better the other.”

  With its many twists and turns, Megan found it difficult to clearly outline the whole situation but persevered nevertheless.

  “The trust running the hotel and estate has to keep it more or less as it was. The descendants of the original families benefit hugely if they remain working on the estate. If not, they get nothing.”

  Megan reached for a glass of water, watching the four faces staring at her. The silence lengthened.

  Jason asked the obvious question. “What’s all this to do with us?”

  “This part? Nothing, directly.”

  “Damn. And I thought you were going to tell us there was money it in for us,” Jason laughed, dismissing the whole idea. “Oh, well. Never mind. Let’s go to dinner. I’m starved.”

  Feeling a little uncomfortable and knowing she hadn’t told them everything, Megan readily agreed. She hadn’t yet mentioned dear old Constance’s ashes or the conditions attached to her personal fortune, even though Jason had given her an opening. She wanted to pick the right time for that little bombshell.

  Isabel’s Journal

  24 December 1910 – Nice

  The menu for Christmas luncheon is being discussed at length with heated disagreements between Cook, Mme Le Beau and Mrs B as to whether it should be goose or turkey as the main course. The argument against goose is that the foie gras will be served earlier. Whatever the outcome of their decision – although I would prefer turkey – there will be no moving Madame on the dessert menu. There will be what she calls ‘Bûche de Noël’, a yule log, which sounds to me like a rolled sponge cake filled with jam and cream covered in chocolate. She assures me I will love it, as I will the nougat made with candied nuts and fruit.

  “Tu vas l’adorer, ma chère fille,” she keeps telling me, “ça adorez.” Time will tell just how many of these so-called delicacies I will love. Some of them sound totally unpalatable.

  One tradition I do like the sound of is what Mme Veronique calls ‘Les Treize Desserts’. She says they symbolise the twelve apostles and Jesus and are often accompanied by thirteen different wines.

  In Provence, apparently, the final dessert consisting of crushed almonds candied with melons and fruit syrup, dating back to the 15th century, is called ‘Calisson d'Aix’. Now, that does sound delicious. She also informs me, if Cook has anything to say, they will serve sweet pastries, biscuits, dried fruit and nuts, tarts and quince jellies as well.

  These desserts are to be set out tonight, Christmas Eve, where they remain for three days. Apparently, we will set it up before we go to midnight Mass. I do not particularly like the Catholic Mass, but as her guest I cannot decline, much as I would like to. Mother would have a fit if she knew. Church of England has always been good enough for Mother.

  I think Mrs B and Mme Veronique will probably drink all of those thirteen wines if their practice so far is anything to go by. The climate here is such that a wine in the afternoons on the verandah is very pleasant, and we often linger into the evening before dining quite late.

  Chapter 15

  The days, filled with previously planned outdoor activities, were ticking by far too quickly, and she still hadn’t found the right time to tell them all her news. Much to her delight, Jason asked if he and Trina could stay on for one more day, giving her more time, so on their last night together Megan decided to come clean. So far, the story of a small endowment from Isabel’s dowry had explained how she could afford this holiday for them all. Now she’d run out of excuses.

  Curled up on the couch with a hot chocolate, Sarah said, “It seems sad to me. Constance had all this money but no family to share in her success. I wonder why she never married.”

  “I suppose we’ll never know, but I think she was an unhappy young woman who felt betrayed and abandoned by her entire family.”

  “What do you mean by that?” asked Nick. “She had everything in the end.”

  “Maybe, but look at her life. At age ten, her world turned upside down within a short space of time. Her father died and her mother Eleanor was effectively lost to her not long after.”

  “What happened to her mother was very sad,” said Trina, having learnt Eleanor’s minor stroke most likely started her long decline into dementia. Left in the care of a nurse, she’d lived out her life in one wing of the house.

  “She’s not the only person to have lost a parent,” muttered Jason ungraciously.

  “No, she wasn’t.” Megan cast a sympathetic look his way. “But she lost her sister Isabel too when she disappeared overseas in disgrace, and soon after Constance found herself packed off to boarding school.

  “To top it off, her brother Francis never seemed to care for anyone but himself. The thought of losing her home – the one tangible thing she knew and treasured – must have been terrible. She was determined to keep it, and through it all she became a tough woman to be reckoned with.”

  Silence settled on the group as they digested Megan’s compact version of events.

  “Is that why she deliberately cut the family off from sharing any part of her estate?” asked Trina, innocently presenting Megan the opportunity she’d been waiting for.

  Even though she felt exhausted by the emotional topsy-turvy of the last months and the intense outpouring of the last two days, it was now or never.

  “I don’t know to be honest. But there’s still more to this story.”

  “Well, it’s been a good story so far, Mum,” said Sarah. “I know it’s been a lot to take in and hard to believe. For all of us,” Sarah included the others with a wave of her hand, “but what an amazing adventure. Something worthy of those TV programmes, Heir hunters or Who do you think you are?”

  Megan laughed. “How true! I do feel like that sometimes.”

  “Come on then, out with it,” encouraged Sarah.

  Megan sat forward to the edge of the sofa, hands clasped on her knees, wondering why every nerve in her body was on edge. “Um. The fact is ... I’m about to come into a lot of money, more than I hinted at.”

  After a brief hesitation as the news sunk in, Jason burst out, “I knew it! I knew there was something more to it. Come on, cough up. How much?”

  Everyone began talking at once. Megan didn’t know whom to answer first. “Several million!”

  “Wow!” Nick whistled.

  “How amazing,” said Trina.

  “Sorry I didn’t say anything before. I’m still getting used to the idea. I don’t know how to handle so much money.”<
br />
  “Oh, Mum. Don’t worry. It’s wonderful news,” said Sarah, her face beaming.

  “Yes, Mum. Great news. We’ll help you spend it.”

  Megan smiled at Jason’s smart comment.

  “It doesn’t matter how you got it or what you do with it,” said Nick. “It’s none of our business, but I’m pleased for you. I’d just like to make sure you invest it wisely and are set up for the rest of your life.”

  Trust Nick to be so practical, thought Megan gratefully, visibly relaxing now her secret was out. “Thanks. Some secrets are harder to share than others. Aren’t they, Jason?”

  This time laughter filled the room.

  “Are we even now?” he asked, giving her a bear hug. He lifted her up and swung her around.

  “Put me down,” Megan squealed, smiling up at him to soften her words. “Closer, but not quite up to your standard yet.”

  “That pretty much winds up Constance’s story, but there’s still the story of Isabel. I don’t know much. I don’t even know which name she lived under in New Zealand. From what little I do know, it seems Grandma Julia was born in Italy not New Zealand and was illegitimate. Isabel never married her daughter’s father – and I’m not even sure who he was. There’s no name on the birth certificate.”

  “What?” exclaimed Sarah. “Are you sure?”

  Megan told them about Gordon at the records office and how he was working on finding something to disprove his assumptions, but he was fairly certain. The point of her announcement had legal connotations. She waited for Nick to pick it up and wasn’t disappointed.

  “So, if I’ve got this right, you are the direct descendant of Isabel’s illegitimate child?”

  Megan nodded.

  “And Constance disinherited all misbegotten children?”

  “Right again.”

  “So how did you receive any inheritance?”

  Megan shrugged. “Guilt, maybe. Who knows. But she made it hard. There are three strict provisos to be met. And she left me her ashes!”

  “Her ashes?” Sarah interrupted.

  “Yep. She asked that her ashes be stored until someone cared enough to bury them.”

  “Boy, was she a control freak or what?” said Jason.

  Trina thought otherwise. “Oh, that’s sad.”

  Megan agreed. “Towards the end of her life, I’m sure she questioned some of her decisions. The letter she wrote to her lawyer, the older Boscowan, certainly showed a change of heart. I believe Constance eventually realised there was no one to care what happened to her, or take over from her, or inherit her money. I think it’s why she tied the business up as she did – tying people to her memory. What she privately owned she left to the only family she had.”

  “Put that way, Mum, it sounds awful,” said Sarah.

  “It does rather, doesn’t it. She spent some money on things she loved and decorated the house with glorious furnishings and paintings. And she must have spent a fortune building up her library collection, but it was a drop in the ocean.”

  “So what’s happened with the money since she died?” asked Jason.

  “It’s been sitting in the bank collecting interest since 1983. Her letter said she forgave her sister and wanted to leave her personal capital to ‘the female matriline of my sister, Isabel’ which, according to James, means her daughter Julia, and Julia’s daughter Caroline, and so on. The males of the line were specifically excluded – no way would she let another man like Francis anywhere near her money. Since everyone has gone, that only left me.”

  “So what are these provisions?” asked Nick, cutting back to the chase.

  “The first is the easiest: Lay Constance’s ghost to rest. Number two is to find Isabel and three is to honour Isabel’s name.”

  Chapter 16

  Returning from her walk the next morning, Megan found them all talking over breakfast.

  “I’m sure my mum would be willing to help out for a while,” said Nick.

  “What are you lot plotting?” asked Megan, giving them all a surprise.

  The look of guilt on Sarah’s face confirmed Megan’s suspicions. “Oh. Hi, Mum, you’re back ... Um. We’re not plotting. Just worried.”

  “Worried about what, sweetheart?”

  Megan pulled up a chair and chose some fruit and cereal from the selection on the table, while Nick made her a fresh pot of tea.

  “You,” said Sarah. “When you started all this I thought a holiday would be great for you, but it’s not been a restful holiday, more like an ordeal.”

  Megan looked at her daughter’s face and understood her concern, but surprisingly, after all she’d been through, she was more determined than ever to find Isabel. There were more secrets waiting to be discovered. Isabel had hinted at something significant happening before she returned to England, leaving her precious journal behind with much unsaid.

  And Constance’s wishes were still to be fulfilled.

  Megan tried to keep her voice light and teasing. “Hardly an ordeal, but I admit things turned out quite differently from what I expected. What were you talking about when I came in, if you weren’t plotting?”

  After a moment’s hesitation, Jason answered. “The girls are worried about you. They thought you might need company, in case there are any more shocks.” A glint of humour shone in his eyes as he smiled at his mother.

  “Hey, don’t land me with it,” said Trina. “You were the one who said Sarah should go with Megan. I simply pointed out she had Bella to think of, and it wasn’t as simple as you made it sound.”

  “Which is where I came in, I gather, with Nick suggesting his mum could help look after Bella. Am I right?”

  “More or less,” agreed Nick. “You have had a lot to contend with, and maybe you should accept their support.”

  “I agree with Nick, Mum. You are not the same person. There was you before Dad died, then there was reclusive you for the whole year after, and now only four months later there’s this new you.”

  “And we don’t know what to do, except keep an eye on you,” explained Jason, doing his best to appear the supportive son.

  Megan put her hand over Sarah’s and looked around the table at the others. “I’m grateful for your concern, but please, this is my journey. It was my decision to trace my family tree, and I’m enjoying learning about the women in my past. Even with the shocks.”

  She turned towards Jason. “Don’t take it away from me. Please, let me do it my way.”

  “So where next?” asked Nick.

  “Back to Cornwall to start with – there’s the unfinished business with Constance’s ashes and some farewells – then Paris and probably Nice. I’ll make up my mind after that exactly which route to take.”

  “Sounds okay,” said Sarah.

  Megan thought the look on her face wasn’t as convincing as her words. “How about meeting me in Florence?” she said, offering a compromise. “Sarah, can you find a way of getting time off? Trina, would you like to join me there and show me something of your city? Boys?”

  The girls looked at each other, then at Megan. This time their faces matched their words.

  “Yes.”

  “Fantastico.”

  The boys shook their heads. “No thanks,” said Jason. “Sounds like a girls’ thing to me.”

  “I can’t be in two places at once,” seconded Nick. “You need me at home if Sarah is going.”

  Megan put her hand on Nick’s arm. “Thank you for offering to share the load. And thanks to your mum as well. I’m sure she’ll be delighted to spend some time with Bella.”

  As if on cue, the child came skipping in from playing outside. “Come play with me, Nana. Mummy and Daddy talk too much.”

  The adults laughed. Megan happily went to play with her granddaughter, but she wondered if she had done the right thing inviting Trina to Florence.

  Chapter 17

  Megan returned to Portreath and Trevennick Hall to finalise the last details with the Boscowans. Of the three tasks
she had to do, the simplest was laying Constance’s ghost to rest. She hoped James approved of her idea.

  By chance, she had already started Task Two. After some discussion with James, they agreed that ‘find Isabel, meant discover the sort of person she turned into and what she did with her life. In short, get to know her, something Megan had planned to do all along.

  ‘Honour her name’ would be more difficult. James believed that would come from finding out what Isabel did and what she was passionate about. Clearly, Constance believed it was something significant. Once Megan learnt what the ‘it’ was, she could honour it in some way.

  After each task was completed, she would receive another portion of the inheritance.

  Before going away for Christmas, she had James arrange for her to attend the next combined meeting of the Board of Governors and Trevennick Hall Trust Board in the middle of January. On the day, she dressed carefully in a smart suit, ready for whatever happened.

  “Good morning, Mrs Marsh. Welcome.” James Boscowan addressed her formally once the initial greetings were completed and she was seated at the table. “I have apprised everyone here of your attendance this morning, if not the exact reason, so you are free to speak openly.”

  Megan looked around the room, pleased to see two familiar faces in Jenna and Tristan, and that of her new friend and lawyer, Jessica Boscowan. James, who had lost some of his stuffy demeanour the more she got to know him, was being particularly proper. The remaining members were a balanced mix of gender and age – as Constance had insisted in her will. Some of the older members looked exceedingly displeased. They were clearly offended just by her being there.

  “Thank you,” she said, matching their solemn manner. “To begin, I think it only fair you should officially know I am the great-grandniece of Constance Trevallyan. Her sister Isabel was my great-grandmother.”

  Immediately she sensed their antagonism. There were intakes of breath, shifting of positions and turning of heads, and too many faces wore vexed expressions for her comfort. Obviously, her revelation came as an unpleasant surprise to some, while others already knew or had guessed.