The Family Affair

by Helen Crossfield

“I’m honoured,” Beth smiled, trying to banish thoughts of Matt telling Olivier she fancied him as she took one of the champagne flutes and held it up to them both. “Thank you for everything.”

  “The pleasure is ours,” Matt said as he and Lottie raised their glasses in agreement.

  “So,” Lottie started, looking across at Matt as he sat down. “Now we’re inside do you want to tell Beth some of the things we found out about the family that we didn’t really talk about in the restaurant.”

  “Yes of course,” Matt nodded, sipping the champagne. “I didn’t want to come out with it at Olivier’s. He runs a really special bistro but the tables are very close together and you never know who is sitting next to you and who’s related to whom in this town.”

  “Tell me everything you know,” Beth demanded, sipping at her champagne again. “I mean don’t hold anything back. Whatever you tell me won’t be as bad as some of the things that have already happened.”

  “Well I suppose the main thing we can confirm from what we know is that there were definite tensions between Richard and your father,” Matt started, as he settled into a large leather chair.

  “And,” Lottie interjected, “it seemed pretty clear that Charles felt hugely conflicted because he knew his eldest son had the brains to run the business but that Richard had the business skills. The challenge was that Richard was a salesman just like his father.”

  “One of the real tragedies in all of this,” Matt continued. “Is that Doug and Richard could have been the ideal team to run the business successfully. But it seemed like they just could not get it to work.”

  “So do you think my grandfather actually wanted Richard to take over the firm rather than my father?” Beth asked Matt, reluctant to believe that Charles could have actively wanted that outcome.

  “No,” Matt said carefully. “I think he always believed and wanted your father to take over the business and for Richard to support him.”

  “But he never saw that dream realised,” Lottie interjected. “I’m not sure if you know this but your father had a complete breakdown and I think Charles had no option but to sanction Richard as the successor. So effectively the choice was taken out of his hands.”

  “That’s the first time I’ve heard that my father actually had a nervous breakdown,” Beth replied, clearly shocked by the revelation. “I knew Dad had a really rough time of things for obvious reasons but no-one ever told me that. Do you know if that happened before or after Alistair died?”

  “Definitely afterwards,” Lottie answered. “There were tensions before your brother died just because your father and Richard were so different. But more than one person told us it became impossible for the business to pass to Doug after his breakdown. He just wasn’t well enough.”

  “And from other things we were told,” Matt said, picking up the conversation from his wife, “your Uncle Richard was extremely ambitious not just for himself but for his son Charlie. And he made no attempt to hide what he wanted from your father, which could have contributed to the tensions.”

  “God, how absolutely awful for Mum and Dad,” Beth replied. “None of what you’ve told me about Uncle Richard surprises me. From what bit I saw he was utterly out for himself.”

  “When Alistair died,” Matt went on, “the fallout was catastrophic for the whole family and for the business as it really signalled the beginning of the end, even though Richard did inherit it and ran it successfully for a number of years.”

  “If Alistair hadn’t died,” Beth said wistfully trying to re-invent the past, “things could have been very different.”

  “Yes, it’s possible,” Matt interjected. “Even though a lot of Yorkshire textile businesses were hit by competition from overseas – some survived by diversifying. But the brothers would have had to get on for it to have worked.”

  “I think another big complication was that when Richard took over the firm he joined forces with his old friend Simon Fallow,” Lottie added. “Together they bought your father and your Uncle Arthur out of the firm.”

  “God,” Beth exclaimed. “I remember now. It’s all coming back. Simon was certainly a very charming man but ... Mum and Dad banned his name from ever being mentioned in the house.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me, considering what we’ve heard about him as well,” Matt nodded. “Apparently he was your Uncle Richard’s best friend at school and your grandfather tried to put a stop to the relationship even then.”

  “They were as thick as thieves and no-one but Richard could see why being Simon’s friend was such a good idea” Beth continued.

  “We met one person,” Lottie interrupted, “who told us that in the end Simon turned on your Uncle Richard once the business started to fail there as was nothing more in the relationship worth fighting for.”

  “Christ,” Beth said sharply. “That’s the first time I’ve heard that.”

  “Well, who knows what really went on, a lot of what we know is hearsay,” Matt added. “But the same person told us it was Simon who was the anonymous developer and that he was the one who had actually bought Highlands knowing he would get a knock down price to develop it.”

  “Really,” Beth said sitting up in the sofa. “What a total bastard.”

  “Um,” Matt nodded. “I think he absolutely was, from what we heard. I didn’t want to mention this connection in the restaurant because Simon Fallow is well-known in this town. Apparently if he takes against you he goes out of his way to destroy you.”

  “Well,” Beth replied shaking her head. “I suspect we’ll never get to the bottom of any of it. But if he is the developer he’s probably the person running the nursing home in Whitby?”

  “Yes we think that is where he is,” Matt continued.

  “Bloody hell,” Beth interrupted. “I must have visited his nursing home the other day when I went to see my great-Aunt Ada. It’s all starting to fit together. I noticed a piece of furniture in the visitor’s lounge which looked like it had come from Highlands.”

  “Right,” Matt replied looking at his wife. “That seems to confirm the rumour that he did in fact buy this place then.”

  “What worries me,” Beth interjected. “Is that Ada told me that the people who run the place aren’t as nice as they’d like everyone to think they are.”

  “Why don’t you tell us about your other life, the one you have in London?” Matt interrupted hastily, clearly sensing he could shed no further light on that particular line of enquiry.

  For the next hour they spoke about fashion, France and designers they’d met and worked with.

  The conversation flowed effortlessly and it was clear to them all by the end of the bottle of champagne that they had much more in common than Highlands.

  “Right,” Matt finally said. “I hate to break up the party but we have to be up early for work tomorrow and we need to get some shut eye.”

  “Agreed,” Beth said getting up. “And I have to get over to Mum’s tomorrow and then get back to London. I start work again next week if I still have a job when I get back!”

  “Come on then, we’ll both walk you back to Olivier’s,” Lottie said. “But, before you go, take one of our cards and make sure you contact us next time you are in Kepton.”

  “And this is not the end of our conversation about the past,” Matt smiled. “It’s hopefully the beginning of a friendship. If we are meant to find out more about what happened to your brother the universe will find a way of telling us.”

  As they left the house, Beth looked back at the silhouette of Highlands against the inky black sky which was punctured with minute beads of celestial light.

  How beautiful to return to her childhood home with such good people and to finally sit against the magical white magnolia once again.

  However tough, it felt like she had done what needed to be done. “Are those vintage cars all yours Matt?” Beth laughed suddenly feeling free of the s
teel weights that had followed her around all her life.

  “Yes they are,” Lottie answered chuckling. “As you can see from the size of his collection it is Matt’s biggest passion after researching houses, land issues and disputes.”

  CHAPTER 13: LONDON

  Arriving at her empty Islington flat the evening after her visit to Highlands made Beth want to turn around and drive straight back to Kepton.

  Olivier had been asleep when she’d got to the patisserie and the following morning the shop had been full of customers, giving her no opportunity to speak to him properly before leaving.

  She’d had a quick coffee and eaten one of his fabulous croissants alone, paid her bill and thanked him for arranging dinner with Matt and Lottie.

  “It’s my pleasure,” Olivier answered, as he processed her debit card. “I hope it was a useful meeting?”

  “Yes,” Beth nodded, as she picked up her bag and headed for the door. “It was more than useful. I appreciate the introduction. I’ll tell you about it some day.”

  “Sure,” Olivier replied nonchalantly, not looking remotely bothered about whether that ‘some day’ would ever come around or not.

  And to make her feelings of isolation and loneliness worse, the only phone call Beth received on her first night back in London was one from her mother.

  “Hi love,” she’d said in a soft Yorkshire accent down the phone. “Just wanted to check you’d got back ok and that you’re all set to go back to work?”

  “Yes Mum,” Beth replied wearily. “I’ve got my clothes out. Although to be honest I’m tempted not to bother. I may not even have a job to go back to. I’m dreading it. God knows what Julian is going to say to me?”

  “Don’t go in with that attitude,” her mother challenged. “Be positive. You had every right not to go to Paris. Stand up for yourself or otherwise that company will walk all over you.”

  “Ok Mum,” Beth answered back. “But I still can’t think of anything I’d like to do less than have a long protracted meeting with Julian. If Paris went well he won’t need me and if it went badly he won’t forgive me.”

  “Well just remember what I told you when you were up here,” her mother chided, the years of therapy helping her to remain calm. “Don’t let him bully you.”

  “That’s easier said than done,” Beth complained. “But if you think about it, I need him and the job just so I can pay my mortgage. So, whether I like it or not, Julian actually does control me.”

  Beth wondered if she should tell her mother of her suspicions about Simon buying Highlands, the Earnshaw furniture in a care home in Whitby, her fears for Ada and the fact that Julian didn’t just share Simon Fallow’s surname and come from Kepton but also seemed to share some unpleasant controlling characteristics.

  “Well that doesn’t mean that he can treat you anyway he wants to,” her mother countered. “If he starts giving you any more of that harassment nonsense put him in his place.”

  “I read the books about manipulators when I was in Kepton,” Beth responded. “I think Julian will see a very different side to me when I get back to work. I’ve got a few tactics worked out.”

  “Well just go back and do the job you are very good at doing,” her mother urged. “If you pick a fight, he’ll fight it better than you will. The way to win is just to be better at everything than them.”

  “But all I can think about is my next visit to Kepton,” Beth groaned. “I’m even toying with the idea of coming back at the weekend.”

  “What?” Beth’s mother exclaimed. “There was a time when you couldn’t wait to leave. What makes you want to come back up here so quickly?”

  “I just want to be close to Dad and to see you as well,” Beth said, omitting any reference to the other BIG reason. “I’ll stay at the bed and breakfast again. You know the amazing French patisserie I told you about.”

  “Right,” her mother replied, in a way which suggested she mistrusted Beth’s motives. “I told Arthur about how good you thought it was last week.”

  “Great,” Beth smiled. “I’m trying to drum up custom. What did he say?”

  “He said he’d definitely take Louise,” her mother answered. She then asked rather waspishly “Coming back here so soon is not part of your crazy plan to speak to all your father’s relatives about the past again is it?”

  “It might be,” Beth snapped. “I actually learnt quite a lot by taking time off work. But you said you didn’t want to know.”

  “Well I know I told you that,” her mother replied rather tartly. “But you’re going to end up with even less than you have now if you don’t just let sleeping dogs lie.”

  “Let’s change the subject Mum,” Beth sighed. “Have you got any updates of your own or were you just ringing to check up on me.”

  “Well now you mention it, yes, I do have something to tell you,” her mother laughed nervously. “I’ve decided to get my bunions done finally and I’ve also signed up for a painting class.”

  “What!” Beth exclaimed, as she stopped doodling on a Cath Kidston notepad by the phone. “That’s amazingly progressive. What on earth took you so long?”

  “Well I just needed to find the right moment,” her mother answered, trying to play it down. “It’s all part of a grand plan I have. If I have the bunions done I can walk, and if I get the itch for painting back I’ll be able to go off with the easel somewhere nice.”

  “Mum that is seriously the best news flash I’ve had for ages,” Beth shouted into the phone.

  “Well it might signal the start of something better,” her mother replied cautiously. “I’ve signed up for six watercolour lessons in Kepton Village Hall. Nothing too fancy, but I thought you should know in case you phone and I’m out.”

  “That’s great,” Beth answered. “And if you’re going to Kepton you’ll be able to pop into the new patisserie. I couldn’t bear the thought of you ...”

  “What?” her mother interrupted. “You couldn’t bear the thought of me being up here on my own and rotting away.”

  “Well now you come to put it like that,” Beth said, laughing at her mother’s honesty. “Yes that’s exactly what I meant!”

  “Don’t worry about me,” her mother retorted. “I’ll do what I’ve always done, which is to just get up in the morning and do the best I can. Let’s see how the classes go. If I like them I’ll do more.”

  “Well I’m proud of you,” Beth grinned from ear to ear into the phone. “And I’m pleased you’ve finally done something for you.”

  “Well stranger things have happened,” her mother said cryptically. “I’ll ring you again tomorrow night to find out how work goes. And, remember, don’t let them bully you into anything you don’t want to do, and stop trying to chase the past.”

  After the call Beth went straight to bed. She tossed and turned pretty much all night, her mind filled with vivid and unconnected images of her mother, her father, Alistair, Simon, Julian and a new and beautiful image she’d never dreamed of before.

  And it was the same image she saw the next morning when her alarm clock rang and she realised that Olivier had suddenly replaced Alistair as the face she woke up to.

  Throwing herself out of bed in a state of shock, Beth quickly showered, pulled on her underwear and a fashionable shirt and suit which she had laid out neatly the night before and went downstairs.

  How she wished she was back in Kepton eating croissants and drinking coffee with Olivier. Instead here she was in her own kitchen reliant on Yorkshire tea bags and porridge to give her the energy she needed to kick-start the day.

  After gulping the last mouthful of tea, Beth grabbed her bag, locked up the flat and raced to the tube station – which normally took seven minutes if she walked quickly.

  Everything so far that morning was just how it always had been on every work day morning she’d ever had.

  As she waited for the tube on the platform a
t Highbury & Islington station she looked at her watch. She would easily be at work at 7.30am. She already had a plan of what she would do with her first thirty minutes.

  Drink a coffee from Pret, clear down emails she’d received while away and be ready for her meeting with Julian at eight.

  After boarding the tube, Beth bagged the last seat and took out her Kindle, swaying in tandem with the movement of the train and the fat people either side of her. She re-read a page about how to deal with controlling people like Julian and immediately felt stronger.

  “Don’t let the reality of abnormal people become your normal,” the book said.

  Every now and then she wondered how much longer she could sustain these tube journeys from hell to pay for a flat she didn’t particularly like and to do a job for a boss who may have had connections with her family’s demise.

  And then something extraordinary happened. Not only did her phone find a signal while she was underground but Beth realised that the person calling her was her Aunt Louise.

  “Hello Beth,” Louise said, sounding like she needed to speak. “Can you talk?”

  “Er, not easily,” Beth replied, sounding totally gobsmacked. “Can I give you a call when I get off the tube as I’m about to lose you ...”

  “Sure,” Louise shouted before the signal went completely.

  The next two stops took an eternity as Beth played with the BlackBerry in her Burberry raincoat pocket.

  What the hell had happened to warrant a phone call at this time of the morning from her Aunt Louise of all people? Beth wondered, as she stood up early from her seat, anxious to get off as soon as she could. She hoped to God it wasn’t going to be bad news about her mother.

  And it was that thought that propelled her off the tube. Dodging between weary commuters as quickly as she could, Beth finally made it above ground and furiously redialled her Aunt’s number.

  One ring, two rings, three rings. “Hello Beth,” Louise said as she picked up. “Can you talk?”

  “Yes,” Beth replied breathlessly. “That’s a much better line. What’s happened?”