Time to Say Goodbye

by Rosie Goodwin

  ‘Ah well, at least Mr Dixon should still have a sizeable amount of money tied up for us and the stables are doing well so we’ll still have an income,’ Sunday said, trying to be optimistic. She couldn’t allow herself to believe that Ben would just disappear with all their money, she couldn’t!

  As soon as the meal was over Kathy disappeared to her room where she sobbed into her pillow inconsolably. She couldn’t countenance her life without Ben; she adored him and he was her whole world. But he’ll come back, she comforted herself. He loves me, he must do!

  Sunday was up early the next morning. There was no point in lying in bed for she’d hardly slept a wink all night. Cissie was already downstairs in the kitchen as was Kathy who shocked her mother when she informed her that she wouldn’t be going in to work that day. Sunday had never known her have a single day off before, but she didn’t say anything. She had too much else to worry about.

  At just after nine o’clock the postman came whistling down the drive and Sunday went into the hall to fetch the mail. Ever since Tom had died Ben had always fetched the mail leaving anything that was addressed to her on the hall table, so it felt strange to be sorting through it herself.

  There was a letter from a councillor inviting her to a meeting about the next lot of social housing they were planning to build and a letter from Verity inviting her to afternoon tea the following week. The third envelope looked very official, but she had no idea what it might contain. She took it into the day room and ripped it open.

  Suddenly the floor seemed to rush up to greet her as her eyes flicked down the page and she had to read it over again to make herself believe what was written there.

  Arrears on Mortgage … £187 … to be paid immediately … bailiffs will be appointed if said arrears are not redeemed in full …

  She shook her head, her face a mask of dismay. There had to be a mistake. There was no mortgage on Treetops, nor had there been for many years!

  Chapter Ten

  ‘What do you make of this?’ Sunday asked, dashing into the kitchen and thrusting the letter into Cissie’s hand.

  Cissie read it quickly before passing it to George who scratched his head. ‘But this house hasn’t had a mortgage on it in all the years I’ve lived here,’ he said bewildered.

  ‘Quite!’ Sunday was angry now. ‘So there’s clearly been a terrible mistake. I shall go into the bank this very day and give them a piece of my mind!’

  She had no time to say more for at that moment the doorbell rang and Cissie went to answer it. ‘It’s Mr Dixon,’ she informed Sunday when she came back. ‘I’ve shown him into the day room so make sure as you take that with you to show him.’

  Sunday nodded and with the letter clutched in her hand she went to join their visitor, while Cissie set about preparing a tray of tea for them.

  ‘William, thank you so much for coming so quickly,’ she greeted him. ‘I’m afraid I desperately need your advice …’ She hurried on to tell him about Ben’s disappearance, the empty safe and bank account, then she handed him the letter. By the time he had finished reading it he was frowning.

  ‘I’m afraid this doesn’t look like a mistake to me,’ he told her worriedly. ‘Are you quite sure Tom didn’t take out a mortgage on the place before he died?’

  ‘No, of course he didn’t. Tom would never have done something like that without consulting me! And anyway, there was no need to. The stables are doing well and with what you have invested in stocks and shares for us we’re very financially comfortable.’

  She was so wound up that she failed to notice the look of dismay that flitted across his face before he stood abruptly. ‘I’m going to go back into town immediately and try to get to the bottom of this,’ he informed her. ‘Try not to worry, my dear. I shall be back as soon as I possibly can.’

  He left just as Cissie was carrying the tray into the room and frowning she asked, ‘Where’s he off to in such a rush? Anyone would think ’is tail were on fire the way he dashed out.’

  ‘He’s gone to the bank to try to get to the bottom of this mortgage business.’

  ‘Oh, then in that case we’d better drink this, it’s a shame fer it to go to waste,’ Cissie said stoically and Sunday gave a weak smile for the first time that morning. The world might be crashing about her ears but dear Cissie would never refuse a cuppa!

  Upstairs Kathy was prowling up and down her room like a caged animal with tears pouring down her cheeks. How could Ben do this to her? If he had only told her that he needed to get away, surely he should have known that she would have gone with him? She would have followed him to the ends of the earth if need be. But then, she tried to console herself, he would come back! Of course he would. Hadn’t she shown him how much she loved him? Nodding, she swiped the tears away with the back of her hand. All she had to do now was wait and soon he would be back where he belonged.

  It was almost lunchtime when Mr Dixon returned, and Sunday knew from the grim look on his face that he was the bearer of bad news. She ushered him into the day room, it was the only room that had a fire in, and he strode towards it and stared down into the flames for a moment as if trying to pluck up the courage to speak to her. Eventually he turned and sighed before gesturing her towards a chair.

  ‘I think you’d better sit down,’ he told her, his voice grave. ‘I’m afraid that what I’m going to tell you is going to come as a terrible shock.’ Suddenly he wished that he were a million miles away. Sunday had gone through so much and now he was going to bring what was left of her world tumbling about her ears. ‘The thing is, my dear …’ He swallowed, making his Adam’s apple bob up and down his throat. ‘The letter you received from the bank this morning was correct. There is a mortgage on Treetops and the payments are greatly in arrears.’

  Her head wagged from side to side in denial. ‘N-no, there can’t be. I’ve never mortgaged the property. Why would I?’ The stricken look on her face made him want to run but he stood his ground. The sooner this unpleasant business was out in the open the better.

  ‘It was Ben that took out the mortgage on it.’

  Her eyes stretched so wide he feared they might pop out of their sockets. ‘B-but he couldn’t have. The house is in my name and I never signed anything.’

  ‘No, but after Tom died you gave Ben a letter saying that he would be in charge of all your finances until further notice. It was he that took the mortgage out. And that isn’t the worst of it, I’m afraid. He also told me to cash in all the stocks and shares that Tom had invested in. He said that was what you wanted and when I told him that I would come and talk to you about it he got quite shirty and told me that you weren’t receiving visitors – any visitors – and that he was acting on your instructions.’

  Sunday suddenly understood why William hadn’t been to see her for some time and she felt sick. ‘So where does that leave me now?’ she asked with a tremor in her voice.

  He spread his hands, feeling helpless. ‘Well, unfortunately … you are now in debt to the bank. Ben has taken all your cash and so …’ He gulped, hating what he was going to say. ‘All you have left is the business. My advice to you would be to sell the house and the business to clear your debts. Hopefully you will have enough left to buy a small cottage somewhere but until I’ve had time to look properly at your finances, I can’t even promise that.’

  ‘Sell Treetops!’ Sunday was stunned. ‘B-but I can’t do that. This is my home. The house my mother left to me!’

  ‘I know, my dear.’ Mr Dixon looked almost as upset as Sunday felt and had Ben been there, he would have derived great pleasure from wringing his neck! ‘I’m so very sorry,’ he went on in a gentle voice. ‘But let me get an agent to come out and view the property and value it. Meantime I shall add up exactly what you owe, and we’ll take it from there. Would you like me to do that?’

  Sunday nodded numbly. She just couldn’t take it all in; it was her worst nightmare come true and there wasn’t a single thing she could do about it.

  Mr
Dixon left shortly after. In truth he couldn’t get away quickly enough and he knew he would never forget the stricken look on Sunday’s face for as long as he lived. The poor woman. As if she hadn’t had enough to put up with losing Tom. And now this – it just didn’t bear thinking about!

  Minutes later Sunday stumbled into the kitchen and told Cissie what the solicitor had said. Cissie dropped heavily onto a chair, but then, as always, her spirit roused her from her despair and she told her dearest friend, ‘We’ll get through this, pet. We’re not beaten yet. Me an’ George have a bit put away fer us retirement and I’m sure the girls will pitch in some o’ their wages to keep the house runnin’ till Mr Dixon’s sorted somethin’ out. One good thing is we own our cottage thanks to you an’ Tom so you’ll not be wi’out a roof over yer heads. Let’s face it, this great old place was gettin’ a bit too much fer us to manage anyway an’ though it’ll be a bit of a squeeze at our place we’ll get by one way or another.’

  ‘Oh, Cissie … what would I do without you?’ Sunday sobbed and suddenly she was in her friend’s arms and she clung to her like a drowning man might cling to a raft.

  The next day an agent came to value the house and contents and soon after Mr Dixon returned.

  ‘I have collated all your debts,’ he told her gravely, ‘and unfortunately Treetops will have to be sold to meet them. However, I noticed as I drove in that there is a small lodge at the entrance and I wondered, if you sold the estate but kept that, how you would feel about living there?’

  Sunday blinked. The lodge, or the gatehouse as it was sometimes referred to, was a pretty little dwelling built just to one side of the entrance gates to the estate. It had arched stone windows and a little turreted roof and had not been occupied for many years. She couldn’t even really remember what it was like inside, although she knew that it did have three bedrooms, which would accommodate herself and the girls. And it would be a way of staying close to her beloved Treetops.

  ‘I suppose it is a possibility,’ she said uncertainly. ‘But the girls and I would have to go and have a proper look inside it. It’s probably fallen into disrepair after being empty for so long.’

  ‘Well, if you did decide to do that the good news is that there would be a certain amount of money left. Enough for you to live frugally on for a few years at least.’

  ‘I’ll go and look this evening, just as soon as the girls return from work and I shall let you know tomorrow. But what happens then?’

  The kindly man sighed. ‘I would advise that you put Treetops on the market as soon as possible,’ he said solemnly. ‘I can instruct the agent to do that for you if you wish?’

  Sunday nodded miserably, she really didn’t have much choice.

  Chapter Eleven

  ‘Live in the lodge!’ Both Kathy and Livvy looked horrified when their mother put the idea to them that evening.

  ‘If we do that at least we wouldn’t have to pay out for somewhere else to buy or rent. Then any money we did have left could go towards making the lodge comfortable, and living expenses,’ Sunday pointed out. ‘Admittedly Cissie has offered to let us all go to live with her, but I wouldn’t feel right doing that. She and George deserve their own space and this way we would still have a measure of independence, at least.’

  ‘I can see the sense in that,’ Kathy admitted miserably. She was still reeling from shock at what Ben had done and the way he had abandoned her, but Livvy’s chin jutted angrily.

  ‘But Treetops is our home!’ she spat angrily as burning tears spurted unchecked from her eyes. ‘I grew up here and I can’t bear the thought of leaving it! It is our legacy, our grandmother lived here, and all our childhood memories were made here!’

  ‘None of us wants to go, darling,’ Sunday said quietly. ‘But I’m afraid we have no choice. Ben has taken every penny we had, and we have to live somewhere.’

  ‘Then let’s walk down there and take a look at the place.’ Kathy’s face was glum. ‘Though it’s dark so we’ll have to take torches. There’s no electric in there, is there?’

  ‘I can’t remember if your father had it put in when we had Treetops done,’ Sunday admitted. ‘But we’ll take torches just in case.’

  They wrapped up warmly and armed with torches set off down the tree-lined drive in the bitterly cold evening. The wind was howling, and a fine drizzle was falling so by the time they reached the lodge they were all soaked through and feeling thoroughly miserable.

  Sunday fumbled in her pocket for the key but at first the lock resisted all efforts to open it. ‘It must have rusted up,’ Sunday told them but eventually she managed to turn it and the door creaked open. They stepped into a small sitting room, dismayed to find that it was almost as cold inside as it was out, and the whole place smelled damp and musty. The one good thing was that as Sunday shone the torch around the walls, she spotted a light switch and when she flipped it on the room was flooded with light from a bare light bulb that dangled from the ceiling.

  ‘That’s something at least,’ she muttered as she stared around in despair. Old pieces of furniture covered in layers of dust were dotted about and thick cobwebs hung from the beams on the ceiling like intricately woven lace.

  ‘When me and your father first came here an old gentleman and his wife lived here,’ she remembered sadly. ‘I can’t remember their names now and sadly they both died soon after and the place has stood empty ever since.’

  ‘I-it’s disgusting!’ Livvy spluttered as tears coursed down her cheeks. ‘We can’t possibly live in this … this slum!’

  Kathy said nothing but just stood there looking thoroughly miserable. How could Ben have reduced us to this? she wondered as her heart broke afresh.

  Sunday walked around the room, looking into corners. ‘I’m afraid we don’t have much choice.’ Her voice was firm. ‘And I’m sure it’s not as bad as it looks. I think it’s damp because there hasn’t been any heat in here for a long time. A few good fires should sort that, and a lick of paint will make it look different.’

  Livvy looked horrified. ‘But how can you even consider living in a place like this after being brought up in Treetops?’

  Sunday turned to stare at her, her face stern. ‘Believe me, my girl, I’ve lived in far worse places when I was a girl,’ she told her shortly. ‘Don’t forget I was brought up in the workhouse! This is a palace compared to what that place was back then.’ As always when her back was against the wall, Sunday’s indomitable spirit had come to the fore. She had shed her tears over losing Treetops and now it was time to look to the future and ensure that her girls at least had a roof over their heads, even if it was only a humble one.

  Livvy’s hands clenched into fists of rage. ‘Ben should be punished for what he’s done to us,’ she ground out through clenched teeth. ‘Have you reported him to the police? He can’t be far away, and he must still have all or at least most of the money he’s stolen!’

  ‘I shan’t be doing that,’ Sunday answered coldly. ‘I’ve already had this discussion with Mr Dixon.’

  ‘But why not?’ Livvy was outraged. ‘He deserves to be punished.’

  ‘He was your father’s son. And no matter what he’s done, he’s family,’ Sunday said simply and Livvy saw from the look on her face that she would not be swayed from this decision, so turning about she stormed off into the night leaving Kathy and Sunday to investigate the rest of the lodge.

  ‘It’s very dirty but I think a good clean and some paint would make it look very different,’ she told Cissie the next morning.

  ‘Me an’ George can help you do that,’ Cissie said. ‘But just remember the offer of movin’ in wi’ us still stands.’ Secretly she was almost as outraged at Ben’s betrayal as Livvy was. Now she just wished she had heeded the signs before he got away with it. They had all been there as clear as the nose on her face when she looked back – the unpaid bills, his refusal to let Sunday have anything to do with finances – but never in her wildest dreams had she ever believed that he would be capable
of such deception. Admittedly he had made it clear how disappointed he was that he hadn’t inherited the house after his father’s death, but to do this!

  ‘Come on, we’ll go for a walk down there now an’ see what needs doin’,’ she offered kindly. Seeing Sunday, who was so kind and who had done so much good for so many young people in her life, so upset almost broke Cissie’s heart.

  George was now running the stables single-handed again, so the two women walked down the drive to the lodge and let themselves in. If anything, the place looked even more dismal in the cold light of day but Cissie put a cheerful face on as she said, ‘Hm, this could be quite cosy wi’ a bit o’ work. Old Reggie an’ his missus were always happy enough here. I’ll get my George to go into town an’ pick some paint up later on an’ we’ll make a start on it as soon as you like.’ Looking slightly embarrassed then, she fumbled in her apron pocket and produced a small wad of bank notes, which she pressed into Sunday’s hand.

  ‘But … wh-what’s this?’

  ‘It’s enough to tide you over an’ pay a few bills till Treetops is sold.’

  When Sunday opened her mouth to protest, Cissie shook her head. ‘Now don’t be daft!’ she scolded. ‘It’s thanks to you an’ Tom that we were able to save this an’ have a roof over our heads may I add. Look on it as a loan if yer must but just take it. We’ve still got more than enough fer us needs an’ if friends can’t help each other when the chips are down, then it’s a sad world.’

  The tears flowed fast again as Sunday’s chin drooped to her chest and she began to cry. ‘Th-thank you, Cissie,’ she said in a wobbly voice and then Cissie’s arms were about her and they clung tight to each other.