by Hugh Canham
‘It doesn’t surprise me. Why didn’t you let me help you? Anyhow, what’s the trouble?’
‘It’s not just the bank and Toy Boy – now the Revenue say I owe them a million pounds.’
‘Well okay, you can come over, but I must tell you I met someone while I was in France, after you’d left, and we’re engaged. So… well… it alters things a bit.’
‘Bloody hell!’ I thought. ‘That’s all I need on top of anything else, Cristabel getting married!’
I don’t think I’d ever felt really jealous before. Whilst she’d been distant and reserved, I’d still felt she was somehow mine.
She looked radiant as she stood in the doorway of her studio. There was a huge diamond ring on the third finger of her left hand.
‘I must congratulate you,’ I said, kissing her on the cheek for the first time. ‘Lovely ring, too. Is he rich?’
‘Yes, he’s an Italian. We met at Mass in Aix Cathedral. What do you want from me, Gregory?’
‘I had hoped for a bit of sympathy and help.’
‘How did this tax business happen?’
‘I don’t know. I always left everything to my accountants but I had a vague feeling that something was wrong.’
‘I don’t think I’ve ever had a letter from your accountants, but I haven’t opened all your mail since I came back from France.’
‘Now that you’re back in action and I am getting married very shortly, I’d better stop acting as your attorney. I don’t want to be unsympathetic but I think you must rely on professional help to sort out your trouble and of course talk to Dr Greenbaum. Over there are two box files full of letters to you together with copies of my replies The unopened letters are on top of them. Perhaps you would like to take them away with you!’
I knew I was being dismissed!
I shrugged my shoulders. ‘Well thank you for dealing with everything for me,’ I said.
As I left, I glanced around her studio for the last time. It smelt strongly of cigarette smoke as usual and was very tidy, but there was no canvas on the easel. I turned and sadly made my way down all those flights of stairs that I knew so well.
On my way home in the taxi I picked up the top file and started to glance through it. Almost immediately I came to a letter written back in January from an address in Knightsbridge. It read:
‘Dear Gregory,
When I came to see you at Brook Street, as I promised, the place was locked up and in darkness. I’ve left messages on your answering service, but there is no reply. Please, please, let me know where you are and how you are.
Love from Jane (Jennings).’
The copy of the reply from Cristabel was dated some days later:
‘Dear Ms Jennings,
Gregory Bannister is extremely unwell and is at present being cared for in a nursing home. He should not on any account be contacted or disturbed for the foreseeable future. I am acting as his attorney.
Cristabel Ashton.’
Then there was a pencil note at the bottom of the reply: ‘Jane came to see me. Gave her the brush-off and told her not to phone again.’
‘Dr Greenbaum, I’m in great trouble!’
‘Vhy is zat?’
I told him all about the bank and being harassed by the new manager, and the claim by HMRC for £1 million.
‘Do you zink zis claim is correct?’
‘I don’t know. I hope not. My accountants have obviously made a mess of things and I’m sure they advised me there would be no tax to pay on the money from Reliable Grocers because I had rolled-over in time.’
‘Vell, I do not understand zis “roll-over”, but never mind. Do you not have assets vorth a million?’
‘Maybe. But it’s the aggro, you see. I don’t think I can take it!’
‘I understand zat, but do you not have assets worth a million?’
‘I suppose the lease of my office and flat may be worth more than that. It’s twenty-five years at a low rent. But I’ve got to live somewhere. The Toy Boy flat over the shop in Wood Green is vacant but I don’t really fancy living in it. Dr Greenbaum, generally I’m in a terrible mess. Ever since I tried to turn over the new leaf, things have got even worse.’
‘And vot is happening about zeez bank loans?’
I told him and rambled on about feeling empty and ill and not being able to cope, my holiday in France, my quarrel with Cristabel and that she was now getting married to an Italian.
‘Maybe it was because of the row with you that she got engaged to ze Italian?’
I sent a sort of timetable to McGinger, the bank manager, saying that my solicitors had issued redundancy notices to the staff of Toy Boy. The auction of the stock would take place on a certain day and I was marketing the properties. The buyer I had had lined up for two of the properties had, of course, lost interest while I was ill. I sent a case of wine to Horace. I didn’t want to work from Toy Boy’s offices. I didn’t think I’d be popular there at the moment! Wally was still on holiday. I kept turning over in my mind whether this claim by the Revenue could possibly be right, but I knew worrying about it was futile. I couldn’t really make any progress until Wally returned and his partner Jim steadfastly refused to do anything in the meantime.
Meanwhile, I was slowly reading through the two large files of letters. Cristabel had been very good and made the most meticulous notes of everything she had done. I didn’t know what to feel about her. She’d helped me a great deal, but why? Did she pity me, or did she just like to control people? Or was it just her good nature or maybe her religion? Anyhow, she’d deserted me now. I felt terrible and had to keep lying down. Fortunately there wasn’t much work to do, just clearing up bits and pieces from previous deals. I filled in the time by continuing to read through the files I had been given by Cristabel. Jane, in spite of the ‘brush-off ’ from Cristabel, had written two further letters to me at Brook Street that had been redirected to Cristabel, hoping I was getting better and that ‘my attorney would make sure I read this’. Then I came across a further letter from her from a different address, this time in Shropshire:
‘Dear Gregory,
I’ve come to live in the country with my father as he is not at all well. So when you have recovered, perhaps you could contact me here.
Love, Jane.’
Jane obviously didn’t give up easily! Her father apparently lived at a place called Netwyn Hall in Shropshire. I decided to phone her immediately.
‘Gregory – it’s you!’
‘Yes, it’s me.’
‘You’re better?’
‘Well, a bit. I’ve only just been given your very nice letters, so I thought I’d phone you.’
‘But where are you and how are you really?’
‘At my office. I’ve had to get better because I’ve got serious financial difficulties to sort out.’
‘I was very worried about what was happening to your business, but that friend of yours, Cristabel – is she a relation or something? – kept giving me the brush-off. I even went to her studio once. Very beautiful, but very frosty!’
‘Spot on. No, she’s not a relation. I haven’t got any.’
‘I see… Look, I can’t come and see you because I’ve got to stay near Dad. But you could come here for a weekend if you liked!’
‘How very kind. That would be very nice. But what about your father?’
‘He’s in hospital at the moment. Why don’t you come this weekend. I’ll be all on my own, apart from the staff.’
God, I felt grateful, but I marvelled at little Jane in a large country house with staff. How very odd! And how very kind of her to ask me. Not quite like taking me home to her flat after the dinner but the same sort of thing. She really must like me. Well, that was a distinct boost after the loss of Cristabel!
I took the train to Shrewsbury and Jane met me at the station. It was a lovely hot September Friday afternoon and she was wearing jodhpurs and a white cotton jumper. I noticed immediately she had a very neat little figure. She came
up to me and peered closely into my face.
‘Oh dear, you do look so thin and pale,’ she said. ‘Let me take your bag. I’ve got the Land Rover over there in the car park.’
The Land Rover had two bales of hay in the back and I immediately smelt horses.
‘Is your father very ill?’
‘Yes, I’m afraid so. It’s his heart. But he’s quite cheerful and hopes to come out of hospital some day next week. So I don’t need to go and see him this weekend!’
I was very impressed as we drove into the grounds of Netwyn Hall. It was the sort of place I had dreamed of owning. The house was Georgian and set on top of a small incline, so that it had good views of the lovely rolling hills of Shropshire on all sides. The drive wound up to the house slowly in a succession of gentle bends. The grounds were like old-fashioned parkland with mature oak and ash trees and a herd of deer. Beside the drive there were flower beds, all still full of summer bedding plants.
‘Beautiful!’ I said to Jane. ‘How do you stop the deer eating the flowers?’
‘Ah, that’s a secret,’ she replied, turning and smiling at me.
That weekend she treated me as an invalid, although I tried to convince her that I was much better.
‘But how can you recover so suddenly?’
‘Well, I’ve more or less had to.’ And I told her everything about the bank loans and the tax demand. She was very quiet and sympathetic about it all.
‘Good God! How awful for you,’ was all she said.
I explained how Cristabel had taken it upon herself to put me into her aunt’s nursing home and look after my affairs.
‘She must like you – very much indeed!’
‘Well, she’s just got engaged to marry someone else.’
At this Jane merely said, ‘I see,’ and raised her small eyebrows above the top of her glasses. She was showing me all round the estate. It had the lot! It was the indulgence of a very wealthy man. Swimming pools both indoors and outside. A sauna, a billiard room, and of course stables with several horses.
‘There’s also the farm, but I don’t suppose you’re interested in that.’
Gradually it dawned on me who Jane’s father must be.
‘Is your father Lord Jennings of Jennings House Builders?’ I asked.
‘Well, yes.’
‘How long ago did your mother die?’
‘Two years ago. Dad’s never been the same since. He didn’t get married until he was nearly fifty. I think he must have been a bit of a playboy.’ She said this looking sideways at me, I noticed. ‘I think he wanted a son to carry on the family firm, but all he got was me and I’ve never been interested in business. As Dad quite rightly says, what good is a PhD in Medieval French Literature for running a house-building business?’
‘Is that what you’ve got, then?’
‘Yes, earlier this year.’
‘Goodness,’ I said, wiping my brow at the thought. But Jane interpreted this as my feeling tired.
‘I think you’d better lie down before dinner,’ she said. ‘There’s only the two of us and I’ve asked the cook for something simple. And perhaps you’d like to go riding tomorrow with me?’
As she drove me to the station late on Sunday afternoon, she asked, ‘I suppose you wouldn’t like to come again next weekend? I’m rather lonely here on my own. Dad may or may not be out of hospital by then.’
‘Well, I’ve no other plans,’ I said.
It seemed that Jane had taken over Cristabel’s role of looking after me!
But, as I said to myself on the train back to London, she’s simply not my type. She’s only about 5 foot 2 inches tall, no curves, short mousy hair, often wears glasses. Her face is quite pretty when she smiles but she doesn’t do that very often. She’s serious and intellectual. But she obviously likes me. And apparently I did keep kissing her that night in the restaurant when I was drunk so I must have found her slightly attractive. Probably knowing myself at the time I’d have run my hands all over her body – but I had no recollection of what I thought of it!
7
First thing on Monday morning I had a phone call from Jim, the accountant.
‘Not good news I’m afraid, Greg. Wally’s been taken ill while on holiday and confessed to his wife that his work is in a terrible mess. She told us and we’ve been going through his files over the weekend. We’re going to have to refer several things to our negligence insurance, including your tax affairs.’
‘Well, I’m very sorry for Wally,’ I replied, ‘but I suppose that means the insurers will be paying the tax for me?’
‘It’s not quite as straightforward as that I’m afraid. It will take some time. You’ll be getting a formal letter about it all in due course.’
I suppose I should have felt happier that the accountants had made a mistake and it was likely that the insurers would pay up; but I didn’t. I suppose it was the uncertainty of everything.
I went to see Dr Greenbaum, feeling in need of some guidance.
‘What should I do now?’ I asked him.
‘You must get zome good advice from zomeone. I am neither an accountant nor a lawyer.’
‘Looks as if you’ll have to sell your flat and office, Greg,’ George said. ‘I can’t see the Revenue waiting while it’s all sorted out. And I don’t suppose the bank will lend you any more money.’
‘But it’s my home!’
‘What about living in that flat over the Toy Boy shop in Wood Green? It’s vacant and you could sell the shop subject to your tenancy.’
‘I thought of that, but Wood Green is hardly Mayfair, is it?’
George mumbled something about ‘desperate remedies’.
That was on Wednesday. After lying on my bed all afternoon and churning everything round in my mind and stomach, I phoned Jane.
‘Jane, I really want to talk to you. It all seems to be getting worse. Could I possibly come up a bit earlier please?’
‘When would you like to come? Dad’s still in hospital.’
‘As soon as you can have me! I feel you’ll know what I should do.’
‘Well, I hope you’re not asking for business advice. As I said, I’m not good at that!’
‘But you’re very sensible.’
I arrived on Thursday afternoon, having cancelled my session on Friday morning with Dr Greenbaum. As the train drew in to Shrewsbury it was raining hard, a sudden fierce shower. I got out of the carriage with my bag, feeling utterly miserable, and stood on the platform under cover as Jane came towards me. She got soaked running from the car park and her blouse was sticking to her shoulders and her short mousy hair was dripping. She laughed as she met me, took off her spectacles and shook the water off them.
‘Bit of a downpour. Better wait here a moment. It will soon pass over.’ She shivered a little.
Then, as we got into the Land Rover, ‘Do you mind if I take this wet blouse off and put my jumper on? You can look away if you want, but no doubt you’ve seen a girl in a bra before!’
It was done in a flash. Of course, I couldn’t help having a quick glance. Pale, almost white skin, and two small but well-rounded breasts.
It was very comforting to be at Netwyn Hall again.
While the housekeeper was instructed to bring some tea and cakes, Jane disappeared to dry off properly.
‘What am I to do, Jane?’ I asked after she returned, when I’d told her about Wally and the insurance claim.
‘Just go through all the financial stuff slowly again for me, please – right from the beginning. Tell me everything in detail.’
After I’d finished she said, ‘It’s amazing that you’re managing as well as you are. You’ve had a really bad time. Tell me, why did your friend Cristabel, well… this is how it seems to me anyway… why did she take your life over? She’s getting married now, you say. May I ask, were you lovers?’
‘No. She never let me touch her, although I wanted to, sometimes desperately. You met her. She’s very beautiful.’
‘
Yes… very. Is she a very well-known artist?’
‘No, not particularly I don’t think, although her pictures seem to me very colourful. That’s why I bought two of them for my reception. But she did, I’m sure, want to help me. As I told you, she had me to stay almost every weekend.’
‘Well, I can’t comment. And Dr Greenbaum, was he someone she arranged for you?’
‘Not quite. But she was very insistent I went to him.’
‘And her aunt’s nursing home… ’
We went through the whole saga of Cristabel.
‘Were you in love with her?’
‘I think I was. Maybe still am. But it was hopeless. She was so kind but in a very distant and cold way. And it’s bizarre that now she’s getting married to someone she’s only known for a few weeks!’
‘Yes, well, I think that you must look at the whole thing as being in the past. Do you have a clear letter from the accountants saying that the proceeds from Reliable Grocers would be rolled over’
‘Oh yes. In fact, I have it with me in my bag. I was reading it again on the train. I’ll show it to you if you like.’
I brought the letter down to dinner and gave it to her to read.
‘It seems pretty unequivocal that the insurers will have to pay up in due course. As you can see, Dad and I are not exactly poor. It seems so drastic selling your office and your home to keep the Revenue quiet. Would you let me make you a temporary loan?’
I was flabbergasted. I remember gulping and almost choking on a piece of potato I had in my mouth at the time.
‘Don’t decide now,’ she said, ‘sleep on it and tell me in the morning. I’d like to help. You’ve had such bad luck.’
I remember tossing and turning all night long and having had hardly any sleep. In the past I had had all these glamorous girlfriends upon whom I lavished expensive meals, holidays and gifts and since I’d been ill, the position had been completely reversed. First I had been looked after by Cristabel and now Jane, who was offering to make me a huge loan. God, it felt awful somehow.
