Thomas said, ‘Humph!’ which was as far as he would go in criticism of his stepdaughter and son-in-law, neither of whom had approved of his marriage to the widowed Ellie and who continued to be vocal about it.
Ellie said, ‘Gwen’s very down at the moment. She’s promised me she’ll take her tablets for depression. They should kick in soon. Also, her sister’s in touch with her. Harold didn’t treat her well but she certainly didn’t wish for his death.’
‘It would have made more sense if he’d left money to you than to me.’
Which was true, except that Ellie didn’t think Harold had ever liked her much, either.
Thomas said, ‘I’ve been trying to recall what happened when I went to see Mrs Pullin, the one who’s left me a thousand pounds. You remember I said she had several cats? I wonder what happened to them after she died? I suppose they were found another home somewhere. What I do remember now is that, after she’d had communion, she asked me to stay while she served me some really good coffee. She knew her coffee, ordered it from some specialist place somewhere.’
Thomas was a coffee addict. He smiled, remembering how good Mrs Pullin’s coffee had been. ‘She had a slight accent. She wasn’t British by birth, but she’d been living here for many years. Perhaps she was naturalized by marriage? She didn’t say. Was she Austrian? No; Polish, I think. Her husband had died a few years before. It was a second marriage and childless. He had two children and a grandchild by his first wife, but his second wife – that’s the Mrs Pullin I knew – said they’d never liked her and only visited when they wanted a handout. It seemed to me that she was lonely but doing her best to cope under difficult circumstances.’
Ellie said, ‘Shall I try to visit her people tomorrow?’
A yodelling cry came echoing down the corridor. ‘Come and get it! Oranges and Lemons are all on the table! The last one up is a cissy!’
Ellie disentangled herself from Thomas’s arm and ran her fingers back through her short, silvery hair. Was she presentable for supper? Well, she was who she was and Thomas didn’t care.
Thomas turned his computer off and patted his pockets to make sure he had his indigestion tables with him. ‘It’s coming up to one of my busiest times of the year or I’d go to see the Pullin family myself. You shouldn’t have to do it for me, but I’m rather glad you are. I’ve a feeling we’re up against time in this matter. The moment one person starts asking questions about the money I’ve inherited, everyone will know.’
‘I’m on to it. Come on, we mustn’t keep Hetty waiting.’
Thomas followed Ellie down the corridor, humming, ‘Onward, Christian soldiers’.
Thursday morning
Thursday mornings were always devoted to a meeting of the trust. Because Ellie’s finance director was such a busy woman, they started promptly at nine thirty. Sometimes the reports needed talking through, and sometimes they could be passed without comment. Today they got through scheduled business early.
True to her word, Ellie once more put in a plea for suitable housing for Hetty. She was, said Ellie, the sort of person whom they had set up the trust to help. She was unskilled but hard-working. Through no fault of her own she had descended into a life in which she rushed from one low-paying job to another, living in rented rooms but never managing to save enough to buy a place of her own. Ellie’s request was greeted with frowns.
Stewart, her general manager, said, ‘You mentioned her before. We simply don’t have anything she could afford. I did wonder if she’d agree to share. We’ve got a two-bed flat which will become vacant at the end of the month but there’s three couples after it already, people who’ve been on the waiting list for some time. Supposing we let her have it, could she find someone to share with her and how would they split the rent? They’d have to pay equal amounts. We can’t have Hetty paying less than her flatmate.’
‘I understand,’ said Ellie, because she really did. ‘It’s frustrating. What about that house we’re doing up near the university for students?’
He consulted paperwork. ‘Already oversubscribed and it’s not ready for occupancy yet. The decorators have only just moved in. You remember we had to have the place rewired? That took a little longer than we’d hoped. And would this woman … how old is she? Would she fit into student accommodation?’
Ellie knew the answer to that one. ‘No, she wouldn’t. Well, perhaps there might be something at the end of the month? Could you keep looking?’
Her finance director said, ‘Ellie, you know as well as I do that our remit is to provide affordable housing, but overheads such as council tax and maintenance bills still have to be paid, and we have to cover our costs. We are not in the business of providing free accommodation for the homeless.’
‘Perhaps we ought to consider doing just that,’ said Ellie, thinking aloud.
Her general manager threw up his hands. ‘If you want to run a hostel for the homeless, then that’s a totally different matter. We would have to locate and buy a suitable house and turn it into very basic accommodation that can withstand wear and tear, not to mention abuse. On top of that, you’d also have to employ staff to live in and manage it for you.’
Ellie sighed. ‘Yes, I know, I know.’
Their finance director said, ‘Your protégée should find somewhere she can afford, further out of London.’
Ellie sighed again. ‘I’ve tried suggesting that. She’s not listening.’
The finance director’s smartphone vibrated. It turned out to be an urgent call, which led to her making her apologies and leaving for another meeting. The general manager said he’d keep an eye out for something for Hetty, though he wasn’t hopeful. He’d bring the matter up again at their next meeting.
As Ellie saw them off, she told herself it was a good thing they’d been interrupted as she really had no right to ask for favours for herself. That was not what the trust was about.
She took the coffee things out to the kitchen, wondering if it were time for her to put another matter on the agenda for the trust, which was the future of this big house. The maintenance costs rose every year and Ellie couldn’t help worrying about them. Also it seemed absurd for her and Thomas to rattle about in such a big place. On the other hand, she couldn’t imagine them moving into a tiny flat somewhere, and she really did need a garden.
Oh well, she’d solve the maintenance problem somehow. They’d probably still be wondering about a move in ten years’ time.
The doorbell rang, strong and steady.
Oh dear! Ellie knew that ring. Her daughter Diana always rang the bell as if the Hounds of Hell were on her heels. Ellie hastened to open the front door, and yes, it was Diana.
For one awful moment Ellie wondered if she’d forgotten she was supposed to babysit her granddaughter that day. But no, for Diana – in full business black and white and complete with briefcase – strode into the house without a baby in tow.
Diana was a businesswoman who was more or less running her husband’s estate agency nowadays. Their firstborn, little Evan, was at nursery full-time and their baby daughter was in the care of a nanny for all but one day a week, when Ellie usually looked after her.
This was not a day on which Ellie was supposed to be babysitting, so why was Diana here in the middle of a work day?
Diana didn’t waste time going on the attack. ‘Mother! It comes to something when I have to hear of your good fortune from people at the golf club. When were you going to tell me? That’s what I’d like to know!’
Ellie felt a trickle of apprehension. So Diana had heard that Thomas had been left some money? The news had got out already? ‘Well, it’s not exactly a fortune.’
‘We need to talk about this.’ Diana brushed past her mother into the sitting room and took a seat. She opened her briefcase, extracted a laptop and gestured for Ellie to sit opposite. ‘Now, how much exactly is it, in total? My informant guesses it’s over fifty thousand but admits it may well be more. I am shocked that you haven’t seen fit to put me i
n the picture. We both know you’ve a bad head for business, and it’s up to me to stop you throwing it all away. You haven’t got rid of it yet, have you?’
Tap, tap, went her fingers on her keyboard.
Ellie realized that Thomas was right. The bequests couldn’t be kept under wraps. If Diana and her husband knew today, then the world would know tomorrow. Then the police would start to ask questions, and who knew where it would all end!
‘Diana, I don’t know what you’ve heard or from whom. It’s true that Thomas has received several small bequests—’
‘Is it over a hundred thousand, that’s what I need to know? If it’s less … But I rather hope for more, which is the amount I’m thinking of for—’
‘Stop! Diana, listen to me. Thomas received two hundred pounds from one, five hundred from another, fifteen hundred from two more, and Tuesday he got a thousand. And that’s it.’
‘What! But I was told …! And it was Thomas who received …? Not you? But why on earth would anyone want to give Thomas fifty, let alone fifty thousand pounds?’
‘He’s received a total of three thousand, two hundred pounds. He’s not happy about it, and he wants to return it to the solicitors.’
‘What! He can’t do that! Why …’ Her eyes switched to and fro. ‘It can’t be as little as that. No way! He’s telling you porkies, that’s what it is. I’ve never trusted him. Believe me, he’s concealing the real extent from you so that he can spend it himself. He’s had at least forty thousand pounds, maybe more.’
‘I assure you, no. I’ve seen the paperwork.’
Diana wasn’t listening. She crashed down the lid of her laptop, thinking hard. ‘How ridiculous, him thinking he can pull the wool over our eyes. You’ll have to face up to it, Mother. He’s no good. He’s probably planning to do a runner with the money, back off to Canada or wherever it is the rest of his family has taken refuge, leaving you with this big house and no money to run it with. I’ve told you over and over, it’s about time you cashed in on this white elephant of a place, downsize to something small, and release the money for the benefit of the family, who need it more than you do.’
Ellie wondered if she could get out of this argument without going off into a faint. Of course Diana had got her facts wrong. Thomas would no more think of cheating her than he would of taking up lap dancing. As for running off to Canada, he preferred a warmer climate and couldn’t ski. Visits, yes. Staying there, no.
Ellie told herself to take a deep breath and start again. ‘Diana, you’ve been misinformed and I can prove it. Shall I show you the file of letters from the solicitors?’
Diana’s shoulders were tight with tension. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. It’s a hundred thousand, not a penny less. We need that money.’
Ellie braced herself. ‘You’re in trouble, financially?’
‘My beloved husband is such a fool. He’s cracking up. He fell over a toy engine which little Evan had left in the hall, which my darling little boy is perfectly entitled to do … leave it there, I mean. It’s his house too, isn’t it? Now Evan’s back in his wheelchair and drinking more than ever. He had this scheme, get rich quick, it’s not the first time he’s let himself into such a stupid …! I told him! I said! And it’s true we did make a killing on that scheme for the town centre, but then he put everything we got from that, and I mean everything, into an option to develop a site down by the river. We thought we’d get permission to develop and it hasn’t happened and now the vendor is asking us to complete the sale and if we don’t they’ll go elsewhere and we’ll lose all the money we’ve invested so far. It’s infuriating!’
Angry tears spurted. Diana dabbed at her eyes with a tissue.
‘I’m so sorry.’ What else could Ellie say?
Diana narrowed her eyes. ‘I’m not having the business go under just because my husband’s losing the plot. You’ll have to help us. If the cash from the wills isn’t sufficient, you’d better take out a mortgage on this house. Yes, that’s what you must do. Or, better still, put it up for sale. Any developer worth his salt would redevelop the site, put up a block of flats, and have no difficulty selling them. Yes, I’ll put out some feelers today. I know who might well be interested.’ She opened her laptop again.
Ellie told herself to be brave. ‘Thank you for your advice, Diana, but I am not prepared to bail you out of whatever fix you’ve got yourself into now. Before you go, I’d like the name of whoever gave you this false information, as it needs to be corrected straight away.’
‘How should I know? One of Evan’s friends.’
‘Then you’d better ask Evan who it was and get him to contradict the rumour. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m due elsewhere.’
Diana snapped her laptop shut, stowed it in her briefcase and looked round her. ‘Yes, yes. I dare say you will quibble, but selling this place is the only answer. It’s getting to look shabby, but that doesn’t matter when it’s going to be pulled down. I’ll see you get an offer that you can’t refuse. Now I must go. I have to get Evan to a doctor’s appointment. I can’t trust him to go by himself. For one thing, he’s not fit to drive any longer. I’ll be in touch.’
Ellie told herself to hold her tongue as she saw her daughter off the premises. It was no good indulging in hysterics or having a slanging match.
Diana’s car spurted gravel as it left the drive.
Ellie closed the front door, leaned against it and fought off a desire to have a good weep.
Dear Lord, what can I say except, ‘Help! Please, tell me what to do?’ Our whole way of life, Thomas’s reputation is under threat. If the police get hold of this, or the papers …
She thought of going along to the study and unloading this latest problem on to Thomas. But no; he would be working hard today on the magazine. She wouldn’t interrupt him. He’d learn about it soon enough.
Why spread the worry? A worry shared is a worry doubled.
With some hesitation, she decided that she might as well carry on with her plan to speak to the Pullin family, if she could. They didn’t seem to be on the telephone, but if she went along in person she might find an estate agent’s board or a neighbour who could give her a contact number.
She looked up the location of the house. It wasn’t far away, though perhaps a little farther than she was prepared to walk in her house shoes. She changed into some comfortable sandals, telling herself that it was good for her to walk for at least twenty minutes, twice a day. All the medics said so. The medics also said she was supposed to cut down on fats and alcohol, but there were limits to the amount of advice which Ellie was prepared to take on that subject.
She found her jacket and her keys and set off, thinking that though she didn’t go in much for alcohol, there was nothing like real butter, and as for cream … What bliss to have a home-baked scone, lathered with butter, surcharged with jam and topped off with clotted cream! Or were you supposed to put the cream on before the jam, and miss off the butter? She wasn’t sure which was correct. Personally, she liked to put the cream on last, but everyone had their own ideas about such things.
Not that she intended to have a scone of any sort for her tea. It would be good to lose a bit of weight. She didn’t want to go in for proper dieting. Yes, it would be good to go down a dress size but she believed in moderation in all things. Well, most things, anyway. And if she wanted to binge on a chocolate orange every now and then, well, that was her concern and no one else needed to know about it.
She scolded herself. She was rambling. Trying not to think about the unthinkable.
She came to a standstill outside a substantial red-brick, semi-detached house with a small, neglected garden in front. The privet hedges on either side had not been cut in months. Was this the house?
SIX
Thursday, noon
Yes, it was the right address.
Ellie surmised that the rooms would be large with high ceilings and tall sash windows. She could hear the rumble of the Underground railway nearby. Did the Distric
t Line run behind these houses? The path to the front door and inside the porch had been finished with matching red tiles, and there was an original piece of stained glass in the window of the front door. Such touches always added to the value of a house.
This was a desirable property with good transport links. A solidly built family house, three storeys high. Worth perhaps around a million?
There was a For Sale sign attached to the brick-built gatepost which said, ‘viewing by appointment only’. Ellie made a note of the contact number for the estate agent then, ignoring the injunction that viewing was by appointment only, rang the doorbell just in case someone still lived there.
The door cracked open, and a long, sour face topped with tight peroxided curls appeared. ‘Can’t you read? “Viewing by appointment only”. I said this would happen if we put up a board outside, and what happens? The board goes up and people start knocking on the door, wanting to be shown around.’
‘I’m not here about that.’
The woman’s expression did not relax. ‘Jehovah’s Witnesses? No.’ She answered her own question. ‘No, there’s only one of you, unless your partner is hiding in the bushes. You’re selling something? I never buy at the door. No, you haven’t a backpack. You’re collecting for a charity? In my book, charity begins at home. Go away. I’m busy.’ She swung the door to.
Ellie had heard about men putting their foot in a door to stop it closing but she wasn’t quick enough to do so now. Anyway, she was wearing sandals, which wouldn’t be any protection if that heavy door had closed on her foot. So, she rang the bell again.
And again.
And kept her finger on the buzzer till the woman opened the door the same few inches.
Ellie said, ‘My name is Ellie Quicke, and I’m from the church. I came to thank you.’
‘What for?’
‘I assume you are a relative of Mrs Pullin’s? She left some money to my husband, the Reverend Thomas, which is most welcome. I wanted to say how grateful we are to your … stepmother, was it?’
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