by Jenny Kane
Donald, to his credit, appeared neither shocked nor disapproving as she explained that, having spoken – at last – to Justin, and after a great deal of thought, she had decided not to keep her somewhat depleted business going.
‘Did Mr Smythe shed any further light on the situation? Do you know who was behind what happened?’
Explaining as much as she understood from what Justin had confessed about Crystal and Jacinta, Cass added, ‘I suspect from what I learned that the rumoured US company trying to buy the business out is another fable. An extra twist of the knife from Mrs Smythe.’
‘Or Ms Scott-Thomas, as she calls herself.’ The lawyer nodded sagely. ‘Letting you suppose there might be financial remuneration from the buyout, only to discover that it was a fake agreement?’ Donald shuffled some papers on his desk. ‘I was coming to that conclusion. I could find no trace of any agreement. This leaves us with old-fashioned revenge then.’
‘I’m afraid so.’
‘And you aren’t going to fight it?’
Cass frowned. ‘I’ve thought hard about this. For myself, I’d like to get some money back, but not as much as I’d like to make sure all my employees get the wages they are due, plus the redundancy they are legally entitled to. Is there a way to make Jacinta provide that? Seeing as she was the one who dissolved the agency via forgery.’
‘There should be. However, you would have to press for a criminal prosecution, and Justin would have to testify that he did not order the signatures or the distribution on the letters of dismissal on your say-so.’
‘Ah.’ Cass felt the colour drain from her face. ‘He’d never do that.’
Donald frowned. ‘You think it would come down to Jacinta’s word against yours?’
‘Sadly, yes. I have got to see a rather different side of Justin since I came to Cornwall. I honestly don’t think he has got the guts to stand against his wife.’
‘I see.’ Donald sat back in his chair. ‘Do you have enough personal funds to pay your ex-staff what they are due?’
Hoping it wouldn’t come to that, but knowing it might, Cass inclined her head a fraction. ‘If I sold my flat in London I could cover the wages and possibly nominal redundancies. If I have to.’ She lifted up the delicate bone china cup of tea she’d been presented with on arrival. ‘I have been very fortunate. Now that I’ve spoken to all my nannies again, and they have calmed down enough to see that I’ve been the victim of a fraud, not one of them has demanded anything of me beyond some help in finding re-employment - which I have gladly given. They all have, or will have when I have finished working through my list, the best references. I only employed the best in the first place.’
‘What have you stated in the references as the reason for them seeking new employment?’
‘Change of business circumstances. No blame has been laid at my staff’s door. Let’s face it, it’s my fault. I’m not having them suffer because I was foolish enough to fall in love with the wrong man.’
The lawyer laid down his pen and studied his client carefully. ‘Would you like me to pursue things further? I have to say, it appears you didn’t need my help at all. You’ve worked it all out yourself.’
Donald’s expression was full of pride, and Cassandra warmed to the lawyer even more.
‘You’ve given me the confidence to know I was searching in the right places. Can we say that I’ll pay you for services to date, and that if I decide to proceed with a criminal investigation, then I will be back in touch?’
Stretching a hand across his desk to shake Cass’s, Donald beamed. ‘I wish you luck, Ms Cassandra Henley-Pinkerton.’
Cass put out her hand. ‘Just Cass now, I think.’
With a twinkle in his eye, Donald shook her hand. ‘I’d be glad to know how things work out for you, Cass. Good luck.’
‘Would you like to take the guided tour, or would you prefer me to show you around and chat about each room as we go? Your call entirely.’
Cass stared at Lanhydrock House with awe. She’d been to dozens of ancestral homes, some private, some public, but this one seemed to be calling out to her. The geometrically pleasing building took her breath away as the sunlight bounced off the many conical decorations on the corners of the roof. Its precision appealed to her tidy business brain, and as she followed a smiling Jo up the main driveway towards the entrance, it was all Cass could do not to rush eagerly towards the grey-haired attendant who was standing by to take their tickets.
As she turned however, and surveyed the formal garden, Cass stopped walking. ‘Wow.’
‘Quite a view, isn’t it?’
‘And look at that gatehouse. Its turrets remind me of Maleficent’s tiara.’ Cass felt a tingle climb her spine as she took in the stunning free-standing folly-style gatehouse, behind which swept the Cornish countryside, with not a grain of sand or pebble in sight. It was the most beautiful view she’d ever seen. And she wanted to see more.
Jo regarded the gatehouse with a new, delighted curiosity. ‘I’ve never noticed that before, so it does. You wait until you see what it’s like inside. It’s quite a contradiction.’
‘Really?’
‘There was a fire here in 1881. It ripped through the original Jacobean house. What you can see now is the Victorian rebuild. The chap that had it rebuilt, Thomas Charles, he was ahead of his time. Into modern gadgets – well, modern for then. At every available opportunity he had the latest technology installed here. You’ll see as we go round.’
Cass regarded Jo with increased respect. ‘I don’t think I’m going to need an official guide. It’ll be more relaxed going around on our own. If that’s OK?’
Jo winked. ‘I was sort of hoping you’d say that. Come on.’
It wasn’t long before Cassandra saw what Jo had meant. The house was full of contradictions. The sparse nature of the servants’ quarters, the luxury of the family rooms, and the comforts of ‘upstairs’ living made her think of Victorian Christmases despite the heat of the summer sun peeping through the chinks in the blinds, which had been drawn so the sunlight wouldn’t fade the furniture.
The house had, what must have been at the time, state-of-the-art central heating, ovens and even fire hydrants. Jo was a wonderful guide. She moved neither too fast nor too slow, and her passion for what she saw was infectious.
‘I’m dying to see the dresser you restored. Is it in the kitchen?’
‘It is. Come on, let’s go there next.’ Weaving past the other tourists, Jo led Cass into the kitchens, and pointed with pride to a gigantic scrubbed oak dresser which was covered in pewter and bronze cooking pots and plates.
‘That’s incredible. You’re so clever.’ Cass peered a little closer to the furniture. ‘Just checking for bumblebees.’
Jo laughed. ‘You have no idea how tempted I was to pop one onto the back, but I chickened out in the end. I’d like them to employ me again one day.’
By the time they’d visited every room, Cass’s head felt like it would explode with the variety of new sights, aromas and information, and her feet were killing her. ‘I think I owe you a pot of tea.’
Sat at a table on the edge of the brightly coloured garden, Cass and Jo stared out across the view for a while before Jo said, ‘The gardens go on for miles. You can walk along the river, or ramble in the woods forever if you wanted to.’
‘And not a wave in sight.’
Jo smiled. ‘I guess that’s its only drawback. No seaside.’
Cass laughed. ‘That is no drawback. I had no idea Cornwall was so beautiful. I’m not keen on the seaside itself, but this? This is incredible.’
Jo clapped in delight. ‘You’re not? Nor am I! Oh thank God, I was beginning to think I was the only freak in the factory! Well, that settles it.’
‘Settles what?’
‘How would you like to be my apprentice? Only part-time, but we could work out a deal. I could teach you all the restoration techniques I know in return for a percentage on any interior design work that I can pass your
way?’
Cass was stunned. ‘How did you know I’d been toying with the idea of interior design?’
‘I didn’t! I just saw the way you looked around the house, and listened to your comments, observations and judgements as we moved from room to room. That’s why I brought you here. I had a feeling you had a good eye. I wanted to check before I asked you. So, how about it?’
Chapter Twenty-four
This was not a great time to be stuck behind a tractor.
Cass eased her little car out a fraction to see if she could squeeze by, but it was hopeless. ‘How quickly you’ve changed!’
It was only now there was a danger of being late for her appointment with Dora to view a wedding dress, that Cass realised how relaxed she’d become about time in the last few weeks.
She’d spent a gloriously indulgent morning with Jo, learning how to apply gel stain onto restored furniture to ‘fix it’, and chatting about her fledgling plans for a small interior design business, which she hoped would be more of an advisory service to begin with.
Cass smiled as she recalled how impressed Jo had been with her plans to approach the larger houses in the area and offer design and redecoration advice along the lines of ‘Classic Designs for Busy People’.
Perhaps she’d get her own office in time, but for now she wanted to keep things very low key. Sort out the remains of The Pinkerton Agency first, and then think of the future.
Every morning she woke up now, Cass had the urge to pinch herself. Things like this didn’t happen, did they? People you hardly know don’t offer friendship, and they certainly don’t offer job opportunities. Except they do; because they had, and it was happening.
‘Maybe it all feels unlikely and extreme, because I spent so such a long period living in a competitive selfish environment? And let’s face it, Mr Tractor, I was one of the most selfish and competitive. I’m damn sure I don’t deserve all this luck.’
Cass had wanted to tell Dan about her new opportunity, but as she had no real reason to see him, and not wanting to tempt fate, she’d decided not to say anything. She badly wanted the chance to ask him about the Army again, not to mention to discover if he had forgiven her for being so ungrateful. But she was so afraid he wouldn’t want to so much as catch a glimpse of her that she’d avoided Chalk Towers completely; telling herself she’d talk to Dan the moment she’d sorted out her mess with Justin once and for all. That way, at least she would have something positive to say.
Finally pulling up outside Abi’s house, Cass could see that the others were waiting for her.
‘I’m sorry I’m cutting it fine; the traffic between here and Truro was very tractor-ish today.’
‘Not to worry.’ Dora, who insisted that Cass was the right person to help her handle the very bossy woman who ran the boutique where she was intending to buy her wedding outfit, smiled at Max, who immediately ushered Sadie into the boot of Abi’s estate car. Cass and Abi got in the back, while Max helped Dora into the passenger seat.
‘Are you still sure you and Stan don’t mind us bridesmaids picking our own dresses?’ Abi leaned towards Dora as Max drove them to the village of Zennor.
‘Of course we don’t. It’s not like you’re all five years old and dying to play little princesses for the day!’
‘Ugh!’ Abi pulled a face. ‘I didn’t even do that when I was five! Thanks, Dora.’
Cass, who decided to keep to herself that she had been exactly the sort of five-year-old who’d dreamed of marrying a prince and living happily ever after, preferably in pink, said, ‘I hadn’t expected it to be such a big wedding. You and Stan must know a lot of people.’
‘Stan’s been here most of his life, and since he moved into Chalk Towers he has got back in touch with all of those folk from his past who are still with us. Then there’s the whole of the Chalk Towers crew as well. We can’t invite some and not others. It’s worse than a primary school on that front. If we missed some folk out it would be Zimmer frames at dawn!’
Once again finding herself laughing in conjunction with Dora’s infectious chuckle, Cass said, ‘And you want me to come with you this afternoon because you’re scared of the boutique woman? I don’t buy that, Dora.’
Still chuckling, Dora swivelled around in her seat. ‘You wait till you meet her. I think your city slicker persona might be required, so I come out with the outfit I want to have, rather than the one she wants me to have.’
‘That woman looked terrifying!’ Abi bit back the words I wouldn’t want her sorting out my wedding dress.
As Cass and Dora disappeared into the confident clutches of the rather scary boutique owner, Abi felt an atmosphere of unspoken words fill the air between herself and Max.
‘Do you know the story of the Zennor Mermaid?’
Suspecting that Max could feel the slight tension too, and wanted to deflect the situation, Abi stared at medieval church to their left. ‘Only that there is a legend about a mermaid, I don’t actually know the tale. Are you going to tell me one of your local stories?’
Slipping on Sadie’s lead, and taking Abi’s hand, Max began to take them past the quintessentially Cornish cottages. ‘Once upon a time, many years ago, a mysterious beautiful lady occasionally attended the church behind us. Nobody knew who this richly dressed woman was, but her stunning appearance and her heartbreakingly lovely voice made her the focus of much village gossip and speculation.
‘As you can imagine, a woman who – if it’s possible – was even more gorgeous than you had no shortage of men trying to court her.’
Abi was immediately thankful that Max always knew how to break an awkward atmosphere. ‘Even more lovely than me? Fancy that!’
‘Don’t get cocky, woman, especially when we have the breathtakingly lovely Sadie with us!’
Poking Max playfully in the ribs, Abi said, ‘Go on, what happened next?’
‘Well, one of the local young men, a handsome fella called Mathew Trewella –’
‘Like you,’ Abi interjected.
Max rolled his eyes at Abi as he carried on, ‘With the best singing voice in the village…’
‘Not like you after all then!’
Looking at the retriever, Max said, ‘Sadie, lass, shall I tell you the story instead?’
Abi laughed. ‘OK, I’ll be good. What did this devastatingly handsome singing guy do?’
‘Young Mathew decided he wanted to find out everything he could about the enigmatic stranger, so after a church service one Sunday, encouraged by the fact that the lady had smiled at him, Mathew Trewella decided to follow her as she left the church and walked towards the cliffs.
‘That was the last time anyone in Zennor saw Mathew. Years passed, and gradually the villagers forgot the young singer’s unexplained disappearance. Then, one Sunday morning, a ship cast anchor off Pendower Cove, which is just over there.’ Max paused to point backwards across the village towards the coastline. ‘The captain of the ship was sitting on deck when he heard a beautiful voice calling to him from the sea. Peering into the water, he saw a beautiful mermaid, with her long, blonde hair flowing all around her.’
‘Why are mermaids always blonde?’ Abi flicked a hand through her own yellow hair.
Max pointed back at the equally golden Sadie. ‘You’ll have to ask Sadie that one. The secrets of blonde women are a mystery to me, lass. I never understand what they actually want.’
Sitting on a bench that gave them a view along the length of the little village towards the church, Abi took the opening he’d offered her, and, speaking carefully, said, ‘Max, am I a mystery to you? Do you honestly have no idea what I want?’
Staring directly ahead at the medieval architecture, Max took his time before replying, ‘I think I do, but then…then, well, I know it isn’t exactly dynamic of me, but I start to wonder if I’ve got it right. I was so wrong last time, and I love you so much more than I loved Lucinda. I couldn’t stand it if I was mistaken again, and…’
Abi placed a hand over Max’s
giant fist as it gripped Sadie’s lead. ‘You haven’t got it wrong.’
‘Not even a little bit?’
‘Not even a little bit.’ Abi kissed him gently. ‘I don’t want to put pressure on you or anything, and we aren’t Beth and Jacob, we aren’t even Stan and Dora, but we are us.’ Her forehead crinkled into a row of attractive lines as she added, ‘Did that make any sense at all?’
‘Perfect sense.’
‘Good. All I am saying is, when you are ready, I am ready. Abi’s House is our house, not my house. OK?’
Max’s smile was so big it gave the impression that all his freckles had joined up. ‘I love you so much, Abi Carter, and I promise I am almost ready.’
‘Good. Now,’ not wanting to push the point, or make Max feel he had to start making her promises there and then, Abi said, ‘so what happened on the ship then?’
‘The mermaid asked the captain if he would raise the anchor of his ship as it was resting upon the doorway of her house. She explained she was anxious to get back to her husband, Mathew, and her children. The beautiful stranger from the church was one of the daughters of Llyr, king of the ocean, and she was a mermaid called Morveren.
‘The captain, who had heard many legends about mermaids bringing bad luck to sailors, upped anchor and moved his ship as far away as he could. Some years later, however, he returned to Zennor and told the people of the village what had become of Mathew.’
Abi stood up and pointed at the church. ‘So Mathew and the mermaid lived happily ever after under the sea?’
‘So that version of the legend says.’
‘There are other versions?’
‘A few. That’s the most popular one. Do you want to see her?’
‘See her?’
‘Sure, the image of Morveren is carved in wood in the church.’
‘Come on then!’ Abi towed Max after her in her hurry to take a glimpse at the Zennor Mermaid. ‘You must tell Cass the story.’
‘She does seem to be settling in at last. Do you think she’ll stay at number two?’
