The House

by A. O'Connor

  “Oh dear!” Katewas disappointed.

  “I do believe one of the Charter family is on a charity board for the Red Cross. I could get her details for you, if you want?”

  “Thank you – that would be wonderful. I’ll be returning home to Ireland though so may I leave you my card?”

  “Certainly. I’ll send the details on.”

  Chapter One Hundred

  Kate was very busy planning the ball at the house over the next few weeks. There was a constant stream of event organisers and caterers visiting the house and going through details for the night.

  “Tony wants the night to be spectacular, so we have to put everything intoit,” she advised Chloe,a public relations woman she had used for several parties in the past.

  “I’m thinking ice statues inside the house, I’m thinking the ballroom being the centre of the party obviously, I’m thinking all the gardens lit up!” gushed Chloe delighted with the commission as half her clients had gone broke over the previous year.

  “Good, I’m working on the guest list and will get it to you shortly,” said Kate as Tony walked into the drawing room.

  “How’s it all going?” he enquired.

  “Very good, Mr Fallon, it’s going to be a wonderful event,” said Chloe, packing away her files intoher briefcase.

  “Glad to hear it,” said Tony as he went to pour himself a glass of wine. “Drink?”

  “No, thanks. I’m just leaving, have to get back to Dublin for meetings.”

  Kate stood up to show her out.

  “Don’t worry, Kate, I’ll show myself out,” smiled Chloe as she exited the room.

  Kate started to clear away the paperwork from the coffee table.

  “Nico is on his way up for a meeting,” said Tony.

  “Lovely.” Kate didn’t hide the sarcasm in her voice.

  Tony picked up the guest list from the coffee table. “This is the guest list for the party?”

  “Uh huh,” answered Kate.

  “Speaking of Nico, make sure he gets invited, won’t you?”

  Kate looked up at him. “Nico? Why would we invite him?”

  “Because he’s our colleague,” said Tony.

  Kate found herself becoming angry. “He’s not our colleague, Tony, he’s one of your employees. I can’t see any reason why we should invite him. I thought you wanted this party to be for the movers and shakers?”

  “I do!”

  “Then leave Nico off the guest list. He’s hardly a mover or a shaker, is he? He’s a second-rate architect from a second-rate architectural firm who has no business being at our party. He won’t fit in, and nobody will know who he is, and he will be like a spare part walking around.”

  She looked up to see Nico standing in the doorway of the room. There was an awkward and uncomfortable silence. Nico looked incensed and Kate was mortified.

  “The PR woman let me in as she was leaving.Sorry, I should have knocked,” said Nico.

  Kate coughed loudly as she quickly tidied away the rest of the paperwork.

  “Oh, there you are, Nico,” said Tony, taking charge of the situation. “Drink?”

  “No, thank you,” said Nico evenly.

  “Right!” Tony put down his glass and quickly walked over to him. “Let’s have our meeting!” He clapped Nico on the back and led him into the hall. As the atmosphere could be cut with a knife, he decided it was best if they left the house. “I hate having meetings in offices all the time, don’t you? I must bring you down to the pier at the lake to see my new power-boat I just got delivered.”

  The two men went outsideand walked down the steps to the forecourt. Tony talked incessantly about the shopping mall as they crossed the forecourt and walked down the first flight of steps onto the terrace and from there into the gardens. They continued down through the gardens until they reached the lakeshore. Nico couldn’t concentrate on what Tony was saying, he was so angry with Kate.

  “What do you think?” asked Tony as they walked down the pier and came to the two-seater power-boat moored there.

  “Very nice. You have all the toys,” said Nico, hardly looking at it.

  “Jump in and I’ll take you for a spin,” said Tony, taking the keys out of his pocket.

  “Now?” asked Nico, as he watched Tony get intothe boat and start it up.

  “Come on!” ordered Tony.

  Nico got into the boat and sat down beside Tony. Tony revved up the engine and the boat took off across the lake at high speed.

  “It’s great, isn’t it?” laughed Tony.

  Nico looked around him and saw the house disappear intothe distance. He tried not to show any nerves at the high speed. Suddenly Tony brought the boat to a halt in the middle of the lake and with the motor off the lake was returned to a complete silence.

  “You know, I had my reservations when Kate wanted to buy here, but it was the best thing I ever did,” said Tony. “I love it here.”

  “I’m glad it was the right move for you.”

  “She’s a wonderful woman, Kate. I always listen to her advice, she’s always right.” He turned and looked at Nico. “Don’t mind what you overheard back there in the house, she didn’t mean it.”

  “No?” Nico looked at him sceptically.

  “I know she’s very fond of you. She was always singing your praises when you were working together on the house. You could do no wrong in her eyes. She has a lot of respect for you, honestly. And for your family. She’s always going on about the Armstrong family. She’s reading those letters found in the house all the time –totally fascinated by them.”

  Nico looked at him in confusion.

  “And when she was over in London recently she tried to make contact with relatives of Clara Armstrong to give back the photos, the letters and the brooch.”

  “She did?” Nico’s mouth dropped open.

  “So you see, she wouldn’t bother with all that if she meant what she said.”

  Nico stared back at the shore where the house was a distant dot. Tony started up the boat again and powered back to shore.

  Nico left the house and was walking across the forecourt to his Range Rover when he saw Kate on horseback trotting up the avenue. He went to meet her.

  “Did you enjoy your boat trip?” she called out.

  “Oh yeah, between the speed boats and helicopters you’ve turned this place intoa James Bond movie set!”

  “A bit of life in the place has done it wonders.”

  She dismounted and started to lead the horse by the reins up the avenue.

  “Well, look at you – you might as well be to the manor born! Tell me what’s next – when are you hiring a butler and under house parlour maids?” His voice dripped sarcasm.

  “Can I help you, Nico?” she asked coldly as he walked quickly alongside her.

  “I just wonder how far you are going to go to research this new lady of the manor role you’ve chosen.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Well, you’ve bought the manor, learned how to ride a horse – and now you’re trying to take over my family history.”

  She stopped and faced him. “I haven’t a clue what you’re going on about.”

  “What’s all this about reading Clara’s letters? Where did you get them and why didn’t you tell me?”

  She silently cursed Tony’s big mouth. “The builders found themunder floorboards in a bedroom.”

  “A bedroom? Are you sure you didn’t take them from the items belonging to me stored in the ballroom? Not that it matters – they are still personal effects from the house and you have no right to them.”

  She let go of the horse’s reins and it wandered off as her voice rose. “Are you accusing me of being a liar – as well as a thief?”

  “Well, you tell me – are you?”

  “I don’t believe this! How dare you! Ask any of the builders and they will verify my story – not that I should have to ever answer to you.”

  “Well, why didn’t you tell me
about them then?”

  “I was going to after I had read them.”

  “Well, how bloody long does it take to read them? And they are not yours, they belong to my family!”

  Her temper rose. “Well, if you want to investigate that legally – go ahead! There’s an argument they belong to us as they were part of the sale of the house.”

  “It’s all about ‘legally’ with you lot, isn’t it? You think you can get anything you want by just hiring a hot-shot lawyer. Whatever about ‘legally’, and that argument is nonsense anyway, they are documents from my family’s past, so belong to my family. And that’s what you’re after, isn’t it? A past – a history like my family’s?”

  “I didn’t realise you could patent history,” she snapped back.

  “And what’s all this about you trying to track down Clara’s relatives?”

  She doubly cursed Tony’s big mouth. “Why not? It’s a free world. I can do what I want.As you say, Clara’s things belong back with her family, but you’re not her family. You have no respect for her items, you’ll just throw them away like you did her other stuff and that’s why I didn’t hand them to you. You’re not descended from her, and I want to return them to the Charter family.”

  He shook his head. “I think it’s a bit more than that, isn’t it? You’re researching for your new role, actress that you are. What is it – do you want to be Clara?”

  “Oh shut up, Nico,” she snapped, mounted the horse and trotted off to the stables.

  From the upstairs bedroom window in the house Tony had observed them arguing.

  A little while later, he was walking down the stairs as Kate came storming in.

  “You can fire that Nico Armstrong-Collins, or whatever he calls himself, first thing in the morning!” she said.

  “I can’t! I’ve signed a contract with him.”

  “You always said you leave in a secret clause to be able to get out of any contract – now use it and get rid of him!”

  “What’s wrong now?”

  “Why did you tell him about Clara’s letters and me looking up the Charter family?” she demanded.

  “Didn’t realise it was a state secret.” He looked at her, amused.

  “Ahhh!” she shouted in frustration and pushed past him up the stairs.

  Nico slammed the door of Hunter’s Farm behind him and marched intothe sitting room. Damn that Kate Fallon! He poured himself a drink and sat down. Who did she think she was? Parading around the place as she did. Grabbing letters not belonging toher, looking up distant relatives of his. It was none of her damned business. As he calmed down he realised what had really upset him was overhearing how she had described him earlier. She had dismissed him as beinginsignificant. And that had hurt. He didn’t want to be insignificant to her. But to retaliate by calling her a thief and a liar was going too far, he realised. He had just wanted to hurt her back. He knew he had handled the situation disastrously.

  Chapter One Hundred and one

  The public relations company had mailed out all the invitations to the ball, and Kate had collected the post and was going through it in the drawing room, sorting out the RSVPs. Amongst the mail, she found an impressive white envelope with an English postage stamp, addressed to her. She opened it and read:

  156 Nell Gwynn Apartments

  Sloane Street

  Kensington

  London SW 1

  Tel. 0207 8761462

  Dear Mrs Fallon,

  Your details were given to me by a cousin who in turn had been contacted by the curator of the museum at Charters Chocolates. I believe you have come intothe possession of some items once belonging to my relative Clara Charter, the former Lady Armstrong. I would very much be grateful if you contacted me at the above. I look forward to hearing from you.

  Dr Amanda Charter

  Kate felt excited as she reread the letter. She had been giving up hope of making contact with any relative of Clara’s. She immediately reached for her phone and dialled the number.

  The taxi pulled up outside the Nell Gwynn apartments in Chelsea. Kate got out, and entered the mansion block. It looks like the Charter family still have plenty of money, she thought as she looked around the opulent building.

  “I’m here to see Dr Amanda Charter,” she informed the concierge.

  “Mrs Fallon?” asked the concierge, checking his appointments book.

  “That’s right,” confirmed Kate.

  “She’s expecting you. The fifth floor, Number 156.”

  “Thank you,” said Kate and headed over to the lift.

  She reached the apartment and rang the bell. A few moments later a middle-aged woman answered.

  “DrCharter is expecting you – if you care to follow me?”

  She led Kate down a hallway and into a large expensively furnished living room with fine views across the city. A woman was waiting there, aged in her sixties, expensively dressed with a neat blonde bob and a slim neat figure.

  “Mrs Fallon, nice to meet you,” said Amanda as she stood up and shook hands.

  “Thank you for meeting me,” said Kate.

  “Please take a seat,” said Amanda as she sat down and lifted a silver teapot. “Tea?”

  “Please,” Kate answered.

  Amanda filled two cups. “I was intrigued to hear about you, Mrs Fallon, from the Charter museum.” She handed over the cup of tea. “You’re the actress, aren’t you?”

  “That’s right. Myself and my husband bought Armstrong House in Ireland and, well, we found some old photos, letters and a brooch belonging to Clara, and wanted to return them to her family.”

  Kate observed Amanda to be a shrewd woman, self-composed and confident, and although her looks were faded somewhat she still cut a striking figure.

  “Armstrong House – that is a name I haven’t heard in a long time. I thought it had burned down?”

  “Parts of it, but we managed to restore it,”

  Amanda sat forward expectantly. “Could I see what you have?”

  “Of course!” Kate quickly opened her briefcase and, taking out a large envelope, she pulled out the photos it contained and handed them over.

  Amanda put on her glasses and began to study the photos.

  “They are taken inside Armstrong House,” said Kate. “In various rooms.”

  Amanda smiled. “They didn’t exaggerate her beauty, did they?”

  “They?”

  “People who knew her when she was young, relatives of mine . . . I only knew her later in her life when I was a child, but she had changed by then.”

  Kate then handed over the letters. “Most of the letters are from friends of hers fighting in the First World War. The rest are letters from Clara to her husband Pierce. They were returned to her unopened, I don’t know why.”

  “You opened them?” Amanda asked, looking up.

  “Well, yes –”

  “And read them of course?”

  “I did, yes.” Kate suddenly felt intrusive.

  Amanda sat back and crossed her legs. “How can I help you, Mrs Fallon? You didn’t come to London just to hand me a few photos and letters. You could have sent them in the post if you were that anxious for them to be repatriated to her family.”

  Kate sensed there was a no-nonsense toughness in Amanda.

  “I – I confess I was curious to find out what had happened to Clara after she left the house.”

  “You are just being a bit nosy then, are you?”

  “I hope I’m not coming across like that.”

  “Perhaps you’re researching an idea for a new movie project you’re working on?” Amanda raised an eyebrow cynically.

  “I haven’t worked in film for years, Dr Charter, and have no intention of returning to that business,” Kate said sharply.

  Amanda studied her. “No, and I guess with a husband as wealthy as yours you have no reason to.” There was a silence before she spoke again. “I’m sorry if I was rude. It’s just hearing again about Armstrong House and
Clara – it’s brought back a lot of difficult memories for my family. Clara, you see, had a very difficult time there, especially towards the end. When Clara met Pierce Armstrong, she fell head over heels in love with him. She could have had anybody but chose to have him. The trouble was, he didn’t particularly want her, but took her anyway – because he could, I imagine. She endured a terrible cold and unloving marriage, that was when he was there, which wasn’t often because he was fighting in the war. She tried everything to make her marriage work with him, but he basically told her he had never had any feelings for her.” Amanda picked up the letters to Pierce from Clara. “He didn’t even open and read the letters she sent him at the front. He returned them to her unopened. Clara had really no options. There was little or no opportunity to exit an unhappy marriage. She finally found solace with a member of their circle, a neighbour, the artist Jonathan Seymour. They had a relationship and fell in love and were to elope. Pierce was in a high command position and Ireland was under martial law at the time with the War of Independence raging. When her husband Pierce found out they planned to elope, he had Seymour arrested and interned . . .” Amanda’s voice trailed off as she picked up the photos of Clara again.

  “And Clara?”

  “Clara was held prisoner in Armstrong House. He told her if she tried to escape he would have her put in prison as well on some charge to do with subversive activities Seymour had involved her in.”

  “Oh!” Kate got a shock at the thought of this beautiful woman so unhappy and unable to leave the house.

  “Jonathan Seymourspent some months held in isolation in prison as ordered by Pierce. When the war in Ireland was over and Pierce’s power gone, Clara expected Jonathan to come for her. But he never did. I believe prison changed him considerably. He had some sort of breakdown and left for America as soon as he was released where he concentrated on his art, and as we know went on to find considerable success.”

  “And what happened to Clara?”