‘Good. As I say, you have to earn your keep. Each family will be responsible for a separate function of the estate. The Morgans’, he continued, glancing at Diana, digging the knife in as deep as he could, ‘will be domestics.’
Before the pandemic, Diana had employed her own housekeeper. ‘Domestics!’ she snorted.
‘That’s right,’ Nigel said, clearly relishing the moment. Paul held his finger to his lips again, pleading with Diana not to argue. ‘You will clean our quarters. The other families will do their own cleaning. You will cook and wash for the whole community. You will clean the toilets, including the communal ones.’
Diana had brought up her meal when confronted by the stench in the toilets. ‘Well, they certainly need it,’ she said angrily.
‘Quite, and if there are any other domestic chores you can see need doing, they’re waiting for your attention as well.’
Diana didn’t argue further.
‘The Daltons’, Nigel continued, ‘will be responsible for agriculture … for ploughing the fields, herding the animals, and so forth.’ Allison nodded in agreement; agricultural duties sounded a lot better than domestic work.
‘The Steeds’, Nigel said, looking at Duncan, ‘will be the estate’s tradesmen and labourers. You will be responsible for maintenance work, the provision of water, firewood, rigging up some form of lighting and so forth.’
Paul had once served an electrical apprenticeship. ‘Wouldn’t it be better,’ he suggested, ‘to have a common pool of labour, and to draw on specific skills as and when the need arises?’
‘We make the rules!’ Damian yelled.
‘Ah yes,’ Nigel said, ignoring Paul’s suggestion. ‘The Chatfield family. Or should I say the Grey family?’
‘The Grey family?’
‘There is only one Chatfield dynasty.’
‘We’re all part of the Chatfield dynasty,’ Diana interrupted. ‘We’re all descended from Claude and Cora Chatfield.’
Nigel turned towards her. He seemed to be about to evict her but, realising perhaps that her departure would rob him of a quarter of his audience, he continued pompously, ‘There can only be one Chatfield family. From now on Paul, you, your children and grandchildren, will be named after your mother’s family. You will be known as the Greys.’
‘Paul’s is the senior family,’ Diana objected. ‘His father was the oldest Chatfield of his generation, and his brother Mark is the oldest of our generation. If anyone should change their name it should be you lot!’
‘I agree, we’ll be the Greys,’ Paul said quickly, fearful that Diana’s arguing would scupper the whole deal. ‘And what would you like the Chat — I mean the Grey family — to do?’
Nigel replied in a condescending tone, ‘I’ve always admired your garden, Paul. The Greys will be the estate’s gardeners. It will be your job to provide the house with fruit and vegetables.’
Paul consoled himself that a few hours a day tinkering around the garden, engaged in his favourite hobby, would be a pleasant way to while away the days. ‘I agree,’ he said quickly. Little did he imagine the ten-hour days of back-breaking work Nigel would demand.
‘What about you lot?’ Diana asked Nigel. ‘What contribution are you going to make?’
‘We’ll undertake all necessary foraging expeditions outside the park. Additionally, we’ll be responsible for decision-making, law and order, and security.’
‘What security? There’s no one left alive to threaten us.’
‘Internal security,’ Jasper said. His tone was menacing.
‘The important decisions concerning the community should be made by a committee representing all the families, operating on democratic principles,’ Diana said firmly.
‘I told you at the outset that this is a non-negotiable offer,’ threatened Nigel. ‘Either accept my terms now, or leave the park and starve to death.’
‘Everything is open to negotiation,’ Diana returned defiantly.
Nigel looked as if he was about to explode.
‘We accept your terms,’ Duncan said quickly.
Diana disagreed, ‘Well, I don’t, I want to negotiate.’
‘I was elected chairman of this committee and I’m making the decision,’ Duncan said angrily.
Paul became anxious to diffuse the growing argument. ‘Let’s have a vote,’ he suggested.
Allison agreed.
‘All those in favour,’ Duncan said.
Allison and Paul raised their hands. Diana shook her head.
‘Carried,’ Duncan said. ‘Nigel, we accept your terms.’
He stood and held out his hand to shake on the deal. Nigel declined to take Duncan’s hand, indicating there was no equality between the two parties. It was an ominous sign. Flustered by Nigel’s refusal, Duncan continued apologetically, ‘We need somewhere to live.’
‘You can live in the buildings around Lawn Court. Each family will have a designated area. Jasper and Damian will sort that out later. For now you can go back to your families and tell them how generous I’ve been.’ Nigel waved his hand, dismissing them contemptuously.
The four committee members filed out of the room. At the bottom of the stairs, once they were out of earshot of Nigel and his sons, Diana turned on Duncan.
‘What did you do that for?’ she demanded angrily.
‘Do what?’
‘Capitulate like that.’
‘I didn’t capitulate. I saved our families from starvation. You nearly had us all thrown out of the park.’
‘We could have negotiated a better deal,’ Diana shouted.
‘How? Nigel said he wasn’t going to negotiate.’
‘Of course he’d negotiate. They’re not fools, they’d already made up their minds they wanted us here. They’re lazy and they want a comfortable life. Thanks to your capitulation they’re going to get it! We’re all going to end up skivvying for them.’
‘Every family’s going to have to do their bit.’
‘What’s worse’, Diana continued, her eyes flashing, ‘is that you’ve left all the power in Nigel’s hands.’
‘I did the best I could.’
‘Your best wasn’t good enough. Well, I can tell you this much, from now on I’m putting all my energy into looking after the Morgan family. The rest of you can go to hell.’
She turned and stormed off. It was the beginning of a breakdown of co-operation between the families, a situation Nigel and his sons would prove quick to exploit.
35
There was great rejoicing among the four families once the news that they were going to be allowed to remain at Haver was announced. Miles and Theresa looked at one another and smiled as if they’d always known how things would end.
‘Right,’ Jasper said, standing on the dais at the end of the Great Hall and addressing the community, ‘you’re to live in the buildings around Lawn Court. The committee will come with Damian and me, and we’ll show you the rooms available.
‘You are only allowed in Lawn Court, Flag Court, and your private quarters. You will be allowed in the Great Hall at meal times only. All other areas of the house, all other courtyards and the park itself are out of bounds.’
Duncan, Paul, Diana and Allison traipsed obediently out of the Great Hall behind the two Chatfield brothers.
Many of the rooms in the buildings around Lawn Court were empty. Some, however, had been lived in immediately before the outbreak by Haver Trust staff and retired retainers of the Saville family. Most were small, dark rooms, accessed from intersecting passages rambling haphazardly over several floors and infiltrating into the attics. The recently occupied rooms were the most habitable and they, together with the large room beside the West Gate that had previously housed the Haver Trust gift shop, became the most sought after.
‘It’s up to you,’ Jasper said, after he’d shown the committee through the buildings. ‘You can sort out among yourselves which family has which area.’ He and Damian left them to it.
A heated argument ensued.
Eventually, by sheer force of will, Diana secured the prime accommodation for the Morgan family. Allison, on behalf of the Dalton family, gained the second most desirable area, claiming convincingly that she needed wheelchair access for Aunt Margaret. Both Paul and Duncan were fond of their aunt and didn’t argue. They accepted the more meagre accommodation on behalf of their respective families.
Despite there being thirty-nine members of the community to be housed, they needed only a few of the available rooms. While the other families casually explored their quarters, Diana organised her family to search all the unallocated rooms systematically. There was a furious dispute when Theresa wandered inadvertently into one of the Steed rooms and was discovered helping herself to a pile of blankets.
A mad scramble developed for whatever could be scavenged from the unallocated rooms. Some families were short of crucial items, while others had more than they needed. A round of bartering ensued, after which some families were still without essential items — items others had secreted away.
For the first few days after their relatives’ arrival, the Chatfield brothers continued to carry their rifles, but it soon became clear no one was likely to challenge them and they swapped their rifles for pistols. Only when they felt threatened did they draw their weapons.
Instead, the brothers exercised their power by controlling the release of food. The food was stored in barns around the perimeter of Stable Court, and no one except the Chatfield brothers was allowed to enter the barns. Each day the brothers would wheel provisions across to the kitchens.
Diana and Susan drew up lists of what food they required, but always the quantities provided were less than they asked for, and many items they requested were never provided at all.
Two official meals were prepared for each mealtime. A sumptuous meal was prepared for the Chatfield family, which they ate in their staterooms. A second, more basic meal was prepared for the remainder of the community and served in the Great Hall. A third, unofficial meal, was also prepared — a small portion of the provisions provided for the Chatfield family was secreted away by Diana and Susan, cooked, and eaten surreptitiously in the Morgan quarters late at night.
Nevertheless, in the early days, despite the occasional dispute between the families and the meagre rations provided by the Chatfield brothers, the community operated well.
Each family took to its allocated task with enthusiasm. Even the Chatfield brothers did their bit, spending their time charging around the countryside on four-wheel farm bikes searching for items required by the community. The brothers had some success, coming upon stray farm animals hidden away deep in copses by farmers intent on preserving food for their own families. Fortunately a few of those animals had outlived their masters. Altogether the brothers located and brought back to the park four horses, eight cows, a bull, twenty-five sheep, twenty pigs and several chickens, geese and ducks.
Paul and his family began planning the gardens. They set about fencing, and preparing for planting, the former picnic areas outside the West Gate. The gardens inside the walls had better soil, but Nigel had decided the lawns and flower gardens would be reserved for the pleasure of his own family. Not only was the excellent soil lost to them, but Paul and his family also wasted two days a week keeping Nigel’s lawns and flower beds tidy.
The Daltons set about ploughing the valley ready to plant wheat and other crops. At first they had no horses, and the whole family, including the children, were harnessed to the plough, which they dragged across the slopes of the valley. It was back-breaking work but they rarely complained. It was, after all, for the common good.
Everyone was doing their best. Like Paul, the Daltons were relying on self-sown crops being available in the fields of the surrounding countryside during the spring. As the Chatfield brothers located and brought farm animals into the park, the Dalton family set about looking after them, milking the cows and tending the small flocks of sheep.
The Steed family, meanwhile, set about stopping leaks and replacing broken windows around the house. They had few trade skills and the quality of their work was poor. A lot of their time was spent collecting firewood and carrying it back to the wood store. The ancient icehouse was re-commissioned and many hours were spent cutting and hauling blocks of ice from the nearby lake. It was hard, cold work.
However, the Steeds’ most unpleasant burden was their responsibility for supplying the water requirements of the house. There was no electricity to pump water up to the holding tanks. Several members of the family spent many hours each day hauling buckets of water from the reservoirs beneath Flag Court to drums and tanks positioned around the house.
The Chatfield family insisted on running water. It was not long before Duncan thought of building a mechanised system to lift the water from the reservoirs to the holding tanks.
36
‘It doesn’t sound as if things were too bad,’ Mark said as he listened to his brother’s story unfold. ‘Okay, there was occasional inter-family strife, but all the families were doing their bit for the community. So when did things start to go wrong?’
‘At the end of May.’ Paul’s tone was sombre.
By mid-May, the fields had been ploughed and the gardens prepared, but no produce was ready for harvesting. The daily food rations wheeled across from the barns diminished in quantity, and the combinations of food grew increasingly bizarre. The Chatfield brothers no longer accepted lists from Susan and Diana. The sisters were told they would have to make do with what they were given. Hunger pangs returned, as did rumblings of discontent.
Nigel had decreed that the limited stock of deer, believed to be no more than a hundred in total, would be reserved for breeding, yet at least one deer was being killed each week for the Chatfield table. But even the amount of food provided for the Chatfield meals was eventually so meagre that Diana could no longer spirit away a portion for her own family’s unofficial supper.
‘How much food is left?’ Diana demanded of Damian when the rations were reduced for the third successive day.
‘It’s none of your business,’ he said abruptly and walked off.
Next day he wheeled across only half a wheelbarrow of food.
‘Where’s the rest?’ Diana demanded.
‘That’s all you’re getting.’ He tipped the contents onto the floor and walked away, wheeling the empty barrow.
‘That’s not enough for breakfast, let alone the rest of the day. Now give me more food or I’ll tell your father.’
‘Don’t you threaten me.’ He dropped the wheelbarrow, pulled the pistol from his holster and spun around to face her.
Duncan, who was replenishing the water tanks in the kitchen, rushed over to investigate. ‘What’s going on?’
‘This is all the food he’s given us for the whole day,’ Diana complained. ‘How am I supposed to feed everyone with that?’
‘It’s not enough,’ Duncan said, picking up the odd assortment of tins and inspecting the labels.
‘Go and get some more food,’ Diana demanded.
‘There isn’t any more,’ Damian snarled as he stormed off. ‘The store’s empty.’
Diana cooked the little food she’d been given, making a thin gruel which contained everything from beetroot to fruit salad. At breakfast, word spread like wildfire that the food had run out.
‘That’s it,’ Fergus said in a loud voice. ‘No food, no work.’
There was a rumbling around the Great Hall, the teenagers being the most vocal. Greg, who’d been sitting behind the lattice panels fronting the Minstrel Gallery, slipped from his hiding place and raced away to report to his father.
Adam shouted across the table to Diana. ‘Why didn’t you tell us there was no food left?’
‘I didn’t know,’ she shouted back, jumping to her feet.
‘You should have known,’ Adam yelled. ‘You’re the cook.’
‘If some of you men had only had the balls to look in the barns, we might have known how much food was there.’
‘Look,’ Duncan said, rising to his feet, ‘this is getting us nowhere. We need to discuss the situation calmly, and then decide what we’re going to do.’
‘What you’re going to do?’ a voice rang out from the Minstrel Gallery. They looked up and saw Nigel, with his four sons at his side. ‘What you’re going to do is what you’re told to do. Now sit down.’
Duncan wavered for a moment, but with five rifles pointing in his direction he obeyed the order.
Diana remained standing. ‘Are we out of food or not?’
‘I believe we are,’ Nigel conceded.
‘You believe we are! In other words, you didn’t keep an eye on the situation. You just left things to your idiot sons.’
A shot was fired and the plate in front of Diana shattered.
‘Let that be a warning!’ Damian shouted. ‘Next time it won’t be the plate.’ Shaking, Diana sat down.
‘Nigel, what’s going to happen?’ Allison asked in a more conciliatory tone. ‘We agreed to work for you on the basis you would provide the food to see us through the winter.’
‘We might as well leave,’ Fergus muttered.
‘No one goes anywhere without my say-so!’ Nigel bellowed.
‘Nigel’s stockpile has kept us fed till now and we should be thankful for that,’ Paul said, taking a lead from Allison’s approach. ‘Soon there will be fruit, vegetables and grain to be harvested. All we need is a little food to keep us going until the gardens and fields start producing.’
‘The deer,’ Fergus suggested, ‘and the livestock.’
‘Who the hell do you think you are?’ Nigel raged from the Minstrel Gallery. ‘They’re my deer and my livestock, you won’t touch them.’
‘Nigel’s right,’ Paul said, rising to his feet. ‘The deer and livestock must be preserved as breeding stock.’
Instead of welcoming Paul’s support, Nigel became even more enraged. ‘Sit down!’ he shouted. Power was slipping through his fingers. He still had the guns, but it was clear the real power had resided in his control of the food.
Blood Line: What if your family was the last left alive? (The Blood Line Trilogy Book 1) Page 21
