by Bill Ward
“I’m sorry to hear about your family,” Scott said. “I’m sure you understand we are very careful who we allow to join our group. We have to be certain anyone new will fit in. We are a very close knit group.”
“I understand. How many of you are there?”
“Twenty four. We have eight men and sixteen women. To be honest a couple more men wouldn’t go amiss.”
“I second that,” Hattie said with a big smile.
“What do you do for a living?” Scott asked. “Are you going to be able to take time away from work?”
“I own a bar in Brighton, which runs by itself. Or at least I have a very good manager. Time isn’t an issue.”
“Okay so how about you come and spend a day with us and see what you think,” Scott suggested. “We all share the work and it isn’t suitable for everyone.”
Powell smiled broadly. “I’ve never been afraid of hard work. When would be suitable for me to pay a visit?”
“How about Thursday?” Scott asked.
“Fine with me.”
“You can spend the day with Hattie. She can show you around and introduce you to a few of the others. Then we can have a chat at the end of the day. See whether you are still interested.”
“What time should I come?”
“Come about ten,” Hattie answered. “You can join us in our morning prayers for a couple of hours.”
“Don’t worry,” Scott quickly interjected. “Hattie is just teasing. Although I consider myself spiritual, we are certainly not a religious group in the accepted sense and don’t spend time on our knees praying. If that is what you are looking for then you should try to join a monastery.”
“I’ve rather given up on religion,” Powell explained. “I have no problem with people having faith but it seems to me religion or at least the institutions of each religion, have been responsible for more harm than good.”
“I think we will get on just fine,” Scott said.
“I must be going,” Powell said rising. “I need to get back to Brighton. I’ll see you all on Thursday. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”
Powell returned to the bar, left his half-finished beer on the counter and thanked Lucy for her help.
As Powell walked to his car, he was very satisfied with his evening’s work. He had found Scott to be very friendly. Clara Buckingham had called him a charmer. Powell sensed she was probably right in her view.
Powell did wonder if it was a coincidence, once he mentioned he owned a bar, Scott was very quick to invite him to visit the commune. But he wouldn’t jump to conclusions. He didn’t want to be influenced by the negative views of Charles Buckingham.
Seeing Hattie for the first time, had been an interesting experience. He was fairly sure he had seen her pass something to Lucy. The fact she hadn’t wanted anyone else in the pub to see what she was doing, did suggest it could be drugs. Even if it was, it might only be a joint and that wold be no reason for her parents to panic. Despite Clara’s concerns, most young people who enjoyed a joint, didn’t automatically move on to harder drugs.
Tommy was curious. He seemed out of place in the company of the others. He hadn’t said a word and still reminded Powell of a boxer or a bouncer. Perhaps he was just the strong, silent type. Powell decided he would have to keep an eye on Tommy.
CHAPTER FOUR
Powell had given his name to a gruff sounding male at the other end of the entry system and explained he was meeting with Hattie. There was no immediate response but after a pause, he was instructed to drive up to the main house. He had obviously been checking Powell was expected.
The double gates swung open and Powell glimpsed the inside of the estate for the first time. He had observed the cameras at the gate and the high, thick walls. The security measures certainly protected the privacy of those inside. Was the intention to keep people away or make it difficult for those living at the house to leave?
The driveway leading to the house wound its way through woodland and then emerged on to a vast lawn. There were large numbers of daffodils and tulips in circular flower beds. The sun was shining and Spring was definitely in the air.
Powell could see Hattie waiting for him on the steps of the grand house. It was very imposing and must once have belonged to someone important and very wealthy. Hattie was dressed very casually in jeans and a sweater. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail. Nothing about the way she looked, suggested she was wealthy.
“You actually came!” Hattie exclaimed as Powell stepped out of the car.
“I said I would.”
“But you had a few beers and I thought you might wake up and change your mind.”
“I’m excited to be here,” Powell smiled. “Even more so now I’ve seen this place. It’s a mansion not a house.”
Hattie kissed him on each cheek in greeting. “It’s Georgian, built in seventeen ninety and we have seventy seven acres of grounds but that’s the extent of my knowledge.”
“Well it’s certainly impressive.”
“I’ll give you a quick tour of the house and then we can grab a coffee and I can answer more of your questions,” she suggested.
“Are there any rules I need to know about while I’m here?” Powell asked.
“Rules? No, we lead a very liberal lifestyle. Most of us aren’t very keen on rules. We do have a kind of charter. We agree to show love, respect and tolerance to each other. Ask anyone anything you want.”
Powell was learning to like Hattie. She had an infectious enthusiasm. He wondered how her parents would react if he reported back something they didn’t want to hear?
Hattie led the way through various rooms on the ground floor, including a very impressive library, which Powell perused for a few minutes.
“I’m a big reader,” he explained. “Who do all the books belong to?”
“They came with the house. Feel free to help yourself.”
“Thanks. This collection would keep me busy for a very long time.”
“I’m not much of a reader myself,” Hattie admitted. “I prefer the outdoors.”
“I like the outdoors as well. I enjoy camping in remote places and long walks. But when you get back to your tent for the evening, then I enjoy a good book.”
“That’s when I like to open a bottle of something and chill out with whoever I’m with. Reading is such a lonely hobby. I prefer to interact with people.”
“Hey, I like to interact with people,” Powell retorted. I’m honestly not old and boring just because I like to read.”
“I never said you were. I just think there’s better things to do in a tent late at night, than read a book,” Hattie hinted. She smiled broadly and he wondered for the first time whether perhaps it was Hattie who had seduced Scott and not the other way around.
Powell smiled in return. “As I said, I’m not old and boring,” he stressed. “It’s just I tend to go camping by myself so interaction with others is a bit limited come the evening.”
“Now I understand,” Hattie nodded. “And interaction with yourself is definitely not as much fun as with other people.”
Powell understood her innuendo and smiled. “You’re trouble,” he said succinctly.
“Only in a fun way.”
“Let’s change the subject,” Powell proposed. He wondered if he was blushing. “Who owns this house?”
“Scott. I think he bought the place at auction after the previous owner died.”
Powell had researched the ownership on the internet and found the property was owned by a company, which described its business as property management. Scott wasn’t listed as a director of the company so Powell wondered if Hattie was just assuming Scott was the owner.
They carried on with their tour of the house. There was a huge living room and a games room with a table tennis table.
“Do you play?” Hattie asked.
“I used to as a kid.”
“We have regular competitions. They get quite competitive. Sometimes we play for interesting priz
es.”
“What sort of prizes?”
“You will have to enter one of the tournaments to find out.”
Powell’s imagination was working overtime conjuring up loads of possible prizes. He didn’t think Hattie was referring to anything as mundane as medals.
Next they visited the oak panelled dining room and what was described as the quiet living room.
“This is a room for reading and reflection,” Hattie whispered, even though it was empty. Then she added with a grin, “It doesn’t get used very much.”
“Sounds perfect. I’ll have a room all to myself. You’re lucky to be living in such an amazing house.”
“You must come and join us,” Hattie answered with another beaming smile. “You’d fit in well. You have a good sense of humour.”
“I like what I’ve seen so far,” Powell admitted.
Hattie led the way to the kitchen where two women were preparing food for lunch and dinner.
“I can cook a bit,” Powell announced.
“Really?” Hattie questioned doubtfully. “None of the other men are any use in the kitchen.”
“My bar serves good food,” he answered by way of explanation. “I’ve spent plenty of time in the kitchen.”
On the second floor, Powell was shown the sleeping arrangements. There were about a dozen bedrooms. Some had multiple beds in the room.
Standing inside one of the larger rooms, which had the biggest double bed he’d ever seen, he asked, “How is it decided who sleeps where?”
“You sleep where you want,” she answered. Then added, “And with whom you want.”
“I was going to ask about that. Are the men in relationships with the women?”
“Scott doesn’t believe in fixed relationships. He thinks it is more harmonious if we simply love who we want, when we want.”
Powell could see Hattie was appraising him, waiting to see his reaction.
“And if like me, you aren’t looking for any form of harmonious relationship?”
“You’re not gay are you?”
“Would it matter if I was?”
“Of course not. I was just interested.”
“Well I’m not gay.”
“The girls will be pleased to hear that.”
“But neither am I looking for any form of relationship.”
“Let’s get some coffee,” Hattie suggested. “You’ve seen most of the house.”
Back in the kitchen, Hattie made some filter coffee and they then returned to the living room.
“Where is everyone?” Powell asked when they were seated.
“Working. Scott will be in his office. The rest are working outside. It’s Scott’s goal for us to become completely self-sufficient. We grow all our own fruit and vegetables. We also have a couple of cows, some hens and chickens. And of course, there’s good fishing in the lake.”
“How do the finances work? I assume we don’t all get to stay here for free.”
“Everybody contributes according to their means. Those who have more, give more. I’m sure Scott will discuss the details with you later.”
“Sounds very fair.” The thought crossed Powell’s mind that Charles Buckingham might be right to be worried about Hattie’s inheritance.
“Scott is a great believer in fairness. I’m sure you will love it here. It’s a great place to contemplate what’s important in life.”
“Sounds like you’ve worked out what’s important to you.”
“Well let’s say I know what isn’t important.”
“Are we allowed to bring laptops and phones?” Powell asked.
“I’m sorry, most of us have come here to get away from the material and electronic world so we have agreed not to bring electronic gadgets into the house. Scott has a computer and a phone in his office, which are available for emergencies. Is that a problem?”
“Not for me,” Powell confirmed. “I’m not one of those people who walk around staring at a phone all day. I think it’s an age thing. When I was young, mobile phones didn’t even exist.”
It explained why Hattie’s phone always went straight to voicemail. She was obviously infatuated with Scott and the way of life he offered but she was also a bright girl and Powell couldn’t imagine her handing over all her millions to Scott, the minute she was twenty one.
“So what is the worst thing about living here?” Powell asked.
Hattie seemed taken aback by the question. After a few seconds she answered, “I suppose it’s a bit like living with a very large family. We see a lot of each other and every so often you fall out over something.”
“Don’t you miss having your own room and privacy?”
“I go for a walk when I want to be by myself. It’s easy to lose yourself in the grounds.”
“How do you come to be here?” Powell asked.
“A friend of a friend told me about the place and I was looking to get away from a very claustrophobic home environment. My parents haven’t really adjusted to the idea that I’ve grown up. I came down for a weekend and I’ve been living here ever since.”
“What do your family think about you being here?”
“They don’t understand me. My father is too wrapped up in making money and my mother worries I’ve joined a cult of religious nuts. As I said, they treat me like I’m still a child.”
“All parents worry about their children. Remember they brought you in to the world and may not be around for ever so try not to fallout.”
“I do love them but they make everything so difficult. I care about the planet much more than about making money. I will choose who I love and it won’t be determined by their social status.” Hattie realised she had raised her voice and become animated. “Sorry,” she apologised with a smile. “Scott says I should put things right with my parents. I’ve been ignoring them because they made me so mad. Scott says I should accept my parents as they are. He doesn’t believe they will ever change. They are a product of their upbringing and they belong to a different generation.”
“I agree with Scott.” Powell was surprised and pleased to hear Scott was encouraging Hattie to get back in touch with her parents. He wasn’t trying to isolate her from them, which he would be doing if he had any sinister intentions.
“Are you similarly old fashioned?” Hattie asked. “After all, you are quite old yourself.”
Powell smiled. He recognised he was being teased. “Only in years. I’m still waiting to grow up,” he quipped.
Hattie smiled. “Scott was right. You should fit in well. You have a sense of humour.”
“I hope so. Speaking of Scott, how long has he been running the commune?”
“You can ask him later. I think it’s about time I showed you around the grounds.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Powell returned to Brighton, having agreed with Scott, he would return for a one month trial. Scott explained everyone initially moved in on a trial basis and nearly everyone had extended their stay once the trial period was finished.
Powell told Afina he would be gone a maximum of a month and despite her obvious curiosity, he told her little about where he was going. He needed some time alone to recharge his batteries. The recent terrorist attacks, which had resulted in the death of Lara, had left him in need of a break.
In an emergency, he could be contacted through the number he provided, which was the phone in Scott’s office. But it was only to be used for absolute emergencies, not to discuss changes in the menu.
In truth, he expected to be away far less time than a month because he believed he was on a wild goose chase. Hattie seemed both physically safe and compos mentis. Whatever her feelings for Scott, she still seemed perfectly capable of making her own rational decisions. For his part, Scott didn’t seem over controlling and ran a relaxed commune. Either that or he had put on a good act for Powell, in order to get him to return.
Powell didn’t believe Hattie would hand over all her millions to Scott or that he would exert any undue influence on h
er to do so. She might contribute some amount but even as much as a million dollars would only make a relatively small dent in her fortune. It might give Charles Buckingham a heart attack but he wasn’t exactly short of a penny or two.
However, Powell had learned nothing in life was certain so he would spend a bit longer with the commune rather than just provide Hattie’s parents with his brief, initial thoughts. He wasn’t interested in extending his assignment for financial reward but he didn’t want to be accused of making hasty decisions. Clara Buckingham deserved his best efforts even if he wouldn’t cross the road to help her husband .
Powell doubted he would be able to influence Hattie with regard to how she spent her money and he had no intention of trying to do so. He hoped he would be able to put Hattie’s parents’ minds at rest about their daughter’s safety but he was not going to get in the middle of a family war about how she spent her inheritance or lived her life.
The day after his first visit to Tintagel, he returned with a suitcase of clothes and was again greeted by Hattie. She asked him to confirm he hadn’t brought a phone or any form of electronic devices before showing him to a bed in a room with three single beds.
“Scott suggested I put you in here to start with,” Hattie explained with a mischievous smile.
“Are the other two beds occupied?”
“Not usually.”
“What do you mean by putting me here to start with?”
“I think you will be getting some serious interest from one or two of the girls.”
“Perhaps you could do me a favour and just mention to everyone that I’m really not looking for any female attention. In the very unlikely event there is some interest, I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings.”
“As you wish,” Hattie replied doubtfully. “But I’m not sure it will make any difference. Some of the girls will just see it as a challenge to get you to sleep with them. Others are simply desperate for the company of a new man.”
“If you don’t mind my saying, you are making me wonder what sort of a place I’ve joined,” Powell said lightly with a grin.
