by Ali McNamara
‘And got five,’ Arthur says.
I can’t really tell if he’s amused or cross. His face is difficult to read right now.
‘Why were you so annoyed at finding us there if you didn’t have anything to hide?’
‘I didn’t say I didn’t have anything to hide,’ Arthur says cryptically. ‘I said I wasn’t the missing heir.’
‘Right . . . I think you’d better explain.’
Arthur takes a sip of his tea before continuing. ‘I’ve known about Clara’s diaries for a long time,’ he says. ‘Her missing diary has been locked away in the castle since Clara herself first hid it – afraid that someone might read what she’d written and tell her secret.’
‘But why didn’t she simply destroy it, if she didn’t want anyone to know what was in there?’
‘Your guess is as good as mine – perhaps secretly she wanted someone to discover it one day? So that the true Chesterford lineage could be revealed. If the secret had died with Clara, then no one would ever have known.’
‘You might be right there. So how long have you known about all this?’
‘As much as I hate to speak ill of the dead,’ Arthur admits, ‘when the last Earl was in his later years, he wasn’t really the best at running the place. He was what Dorothy would call scatter-brained. So I sort of took over all the duties usually performed by the Earl, and he seemed to prefer it that way. I was his right-hand man, and that meant I got the keys to everywhere in the castle. As you’ve seen, over the years things had built up, there was junk everywhere, no administration and seemingly no systems for anything really. It’s a wonder the place had lasted as long as it had. You might not have thought we were very organised when you arrived, but compared to what I took on it was super-efficient, I can tell you.’
‘I’ve never said you weren’t organised, Arthur; far from it. I just thought we could modernise things a bit, that’s all.’
‘Yes, I understand that now . . . ’ Arthur drifts and appears to be thinking about something.
‘Arthur, the diary?’ I remind him.
‘Oh, yes, sorry. So one day I was attempting to sort through some old files and I discovered, like you did, the diaries – and just like you a missing diary, too. It didn’t take me all that long to work out the clues Clara had left to find the whereabouts of the missing diary. Back then it was simply kept locked in a drawer of her old bureau – you know the one in the painting?’
‘Yes, I know the one; Joey has it now in his room. How did he get that, anyway?’
Arthur shakes his head. ‘I have no idea. He must have asked the Earl for it. It wasn’t on show or anything in any of the state rooms. It was simply upstairs with all the other junk. But after I discovered the locked box hidden in the bureau, I knew it had to contain the diary. Unlike you, I couldn’t find the original key. I would never have looked on that mangy old dog, so I . . . ’ Arthur looks embarrassed.
‘What? What did you do, Arthur?’
‘I’m afraid to say I picked the lock.’
‘Arthur,’ I exclaim, pretending to be shocked, ‘you didn’t?’
‘I did. It’s not something I’m proud of – picking that lock, or even knowing how to. A lad showed me how to do it down the pub one day when I was much, much younger, and I’ve never forgotten. I’d never used it, mind, until that day, but I had to know what was inside the box, and of course when I read the diary I knew I had to hide it away so no one else would discover it. So I took the box and hid it somewhere a lot safer than an old desk – down in the cellar with a lot of Clara’s other possessions. I thought no one would ever go looking down in a dirty dark cellar for it, and if they did, they wouldn’t be able to piece together all the clues without the other diaries to help them, so I hid those diaries too – up in those disused rooms, thinking no one would ever go looking up there for anything amongst all that junk.’
‘Until I started nosing around, that is,’ I say. ‘I bet you hated me trying to sort everything out upstairs.’
‘I was a bit panicky, yes; but I thought you’d probably get bored before you found more than one of those diaries, so I didn’t worry too much. Little did I know you’d find the whole flipping set!’
‘I know; I think I might have had a bit of help with that, though . . . Anyway, carry on with your story, Arthur.’
‘So to begin with, yes, I was a bit annoyed that you were poking your nose in and trying to change things here – not just because of the diaries, but because I didn’t think anything needed to change,’ Arthur admits. ‘I couldn’t see the point to all these modifications and new ideas, but then a different Chesterford began to emerge. I could see it becoming a happier place to live, and the people inside it were becoming happier too, and that is all thanks to you and young Charlie. I might sound like a mad old fool, but you’ve made this castle happy again, Amelia, and I don’t think it’s been happy for a very long time.’
‘Arthur, what a lovely thing to say.’ I’m moved by his kind words.
‘And I wasn’t going to let anyone change that,’ Arthur continues. ‘This castle is everything to me. It’s been my whole life. So I knew that diary definitely had to be kept from you, in case, as I feared, you decided to try to trace the missing heir. I was just working out where I was going to re-hide it when I discovered you all down in the cellar, and by then it was too late.’
‘And that’s why you were so cross? Because you didn’t want me to find the diary in case it meant we had to leave?’
Arthur nods. ‘I like having you around, Amelia; we all do. I don’t know if Dorothy has ever mentioned this, but God never blessed us with our own children, so having little Charlie around is like having our own grandson to look after. We both think the world of him.’
‘And he thinks the same of you,’ I tell an emotional Arthur. ‘I’m so grateful, Arthur, I really am, that you would want to protect me from this.’ I take his surprisingly large hand in mine. ‘But I’m glad we found that diary. It’s always good to know the truth about everything, and this way at least I’m prepared.’
‘Prepared for what?’ Arthur asks, looking worried again.
‘Prepared in case I ever do discover who the missing heir is. I know most of you don’t want me to look for them, and I’m touched you all feel this way – honestly I am. I didn’t think Charlie and I would ever have had this much of an effect on Chesterford. But the problem is I know the heir is here at the castle, Arthur, and if they are I have to find them.’
Arthur sighs. ‘I won’t try to stop you; your mind is obviously made up.’
I nod. ‘I must at least try to do the right thing, Arthur. I couldn’t live with myself if I hadn’t at least done that.’
Arthur nods. ‘Can we help you at all? Dorothy and I? We’ve been here at Chesterford the longest.’
‘That would be wonderful if you could. The thing is I don’t have all that much to go on. It’s more than likely that the person who might be the heir doesn’t actually know they are. If they do, why wouldn’t they have said anything before?’
‘Not everyone would want to do what you’re doing,’ Arthur says pragmatically. ‘Some people like a quiet life, don’t they? Perhaps they prefer living in the shadows – I know I would. And no, before you ask again, it’s definitely not me – or Dorothy, for that matter.’
‘Sorry, I was going to ask you about Dorothy, though. The only thing I do have, thanks to Benji, is possibly the heir’s parents’ or grandparents’ name. You don’t happen to know what Dorothy’s father was called, do you?’
‘Of course: his name was Frank. Fine man he was, too – harsh but fair. He didn’t say too many words, but when he did you listened.’
‘I see. That rules her out, then. I’m looking for someone whose father – or it might even be their grandfather if they’re a bit younger – is called George.’
‘I guess you’ll just have to ask around the castle, then. What makes you so sure they’re here?’
I hesitate. But Arth
ur had been so good about the ghosts before, surely he’d understand?
‘I got a message,’ I say hesitantly. ‘I think it was from Clara.’
‘Go on,’ Arthur says.
I tell Arthur about what happened last night in the Great Hall, and then what had previously happened in the Ladies’ Chamber, and even right back to when the original diaries had disappeared and reappeared.
‘It would seem that Clara really wants you to know,’ Arthur says thoughtfully when I’ve finished. ‘In fact, all the ghosts seem to be on your side. They must approve of you.’
‘How do you mean?’
‘Well, as you can imagine, the ghosts have seen many a different owner of Chesterford pass through these walls. There’s been a few they’ve taken a big dislike to, and they’ve not made it easy for them to live here at all.’
‘What happens if they don’t like you?’
‘Ghostly appearances in bedrooms, paintings falling off walls just as the owner passes by, strange unexplained noises at night, one Earl even had a vase thrown across a room at him. Oh yes, if the ghosts of Chesterford Castle don’t like you, you’ll know.’
‘Goodness, I had no idea.’
‘That’s why I think even they approve of you being here.’
‘But in that case why would Clara want me to know who the missing heir is, if that might mean I’d have to leave?’
‘You’re asking me to explain why a spirit chooses to do something?’ Arthur says, smiling. ‘Just be grateful for now that they seem to approve of you.’
‘You’re right. So, if this new heir is not you, Arthur, and it’s not Dorothy, then who on earth is it?’
Forty-four
I spend the rest of the day surreptitiously trying to discover if anyone at the castle has either a father or a grandfather called George.
‘Why are you asking?’ Joey says when I find him and Tiffany having a picnic in the shade under some trees in the castle grounds. At first I’m so fixated on my mission that I don’t think anything of the two of them sitting here together. Even though Saturday is one of our busier days, it’s mainly run by the new staff I’ve hired – most of whom are getting on extremely well in their new roles. So Saturday has become a sort of unofficial day off for the rest of the live-in staff.
‘I’m just wondering, that’s all,’ I say, knowing this is such a weak excuse for a reply.
Joey looks at me suspiciously.
‘Is it to do with the diary?’ Tiffany asks suddenly. ‘Remember I told you about us finding this old diary and brooch down in the cellar, Joey?’
‘Tiffany, that was supposed to be a secret,’ I say, looking shocked. ‘You’re not supposed to gossip about it to just anyone.’
‘Joey isn’t just anyone,’ Tiffany says, looking across at him with an adoring expression.
Joey returns her gaze with an equally tender look, and suddenly I get it.
‘Yes, it is something to do with the diary,’ I tell them, feeling bad that I haven’t noticed this relationship developing before. I’ve been so tied up in my own thoughts and troubles that I haven’t noticed two of my staff – no, make that two of my friends – coming together in this way. ‘So are either of your fathers or grandfathers called George?’
Joey shakes his head. ‘Nope, not mine. Tiff?’
‘Nah, my mum’s dad is called Joseph – ooh like you, Joey,’ she says suddenly realising. ‘My dad’s called Barry, and my other Grandad is Harry. Goodness, I’ve just realised that rhymes!’ she suddenly squeals with delight. ‘All these years and I’ve never realised before. Barry and Harry, do you think they knew?’
‘You are just too cute,’ Joey says, taking Tiffany’s hand and gazing at her again.
‘Right . . . well . . . thanks, you two,’ I say awkwardly, feeling like the biggest gooseberry in the world. ‘Er . . . just carry on with your picnic; sorry to disturb.’
I hardly think they notice me depart, as I leave them gazing at each other and walk back towards the castle.
‘That’s another two off my list,’ I mumble to myself as I walk along. ‘Now who’s next?’
‘What are you muttering about?’ Benji calls, jogging across the grass towards me.
‘I’ve just been asking Joey and Tiffany about their grandparents,’ I tell him. ‘By the way, did you know that the two of them are an item?’
‘Of course,’ Benji says, to my annoyance. ‘It’s been building for a while. Why, didn’t you?’
I shrug.
‘Oh dear, not keeping up with the castle gossip, eh?’
‘I have had a few things on my mind, Benji; you know that.’
‘How’s that all going? Any luck with the missing heir?’
I shake my head. ‘Nope, I’ve asked around nearly all of the staff now. Some of them must think I’m mad asking about their parents and grandparents. I’m getting a bit desperate.’ I look at Benji suspiciously.
‘Er, no!’ Benji replies, knowing exactly what I’m thinking. ‘It’s definitely not me!’
I sigh. ‘I didn’t really think it was; would have been nice, though. At least you wouldn’t ask me to leave.’
‘You don’t know the missing heir would want that either. And if you’re so worried about having to leave, why are you insisting on continuing this search?’
‘I just have to, that’s why. Plus, Arthur said some things this morning that made me think.’
‘Like?’
‘Like he said that Clara must really want me to know or she wouldn’t be helping me in this way. He said the ghosts of Chesterford Castle can be really awkward if they don’t like you. He seems to think they like me.’
‘That’s good, isn’t it? You’ve now not only got us humans rooting for you, but the afterlife too!’
‘Don’t tease me, Benji; I’m serious about this.’
‘I know you are, and that’s why I’m trying to help you by taking some of the weight off in other ways. I spoke to my friend yesterday, and he said he’d like to visit Chesterford before he makes any financial decisions.’
‘What do you mean “financial decisions”? I thought he was just going to offer us some advice?’
‘I just said that so I didn’t get your hopes up. But Toby might actually be able to offer you some investment, too.’
‘Really?’
‘I hope so. He’s coming on Monday.’
‘But we’re closed on Mondays; he won’t be able to see the castle in full flow, with visitors touring around the place and the guides doing their stuff.’
‘I’m sure that won’t matter – plus, this way you can give him his own personal guided tour.’
‘I guess . . . What’s he like, this Toby? How do you know him?’
Benji raises his eyebrows at me.
‘Oh, like that?’
‘We were together for a while, yes; but it was a number of years ago now. He’d just come out of a difficult relationship; in fact, I think he’d not long come out altogether. He didn’t want anything serious, and neither did I at the time. It wasn’t meant to be anything long term, and it wasn’t, so we parted amicably when the time came.’
‘What have you told him about Chesterford?’
‘That it could be a worthwhile investment for his company. The new owner is doing a wonderful job bringing the castle into the twenty-first century, as it were, but you could just do with a few extra resources to allow you to bring all your plans to fruition.’
‘Nice.’
‘Thank you.’ Benji gives a tiny bow. ‘Right, where are you off to now on your mission?’
‘I don’t know; I’m running out of people to speak to.’
‘Looks like you’ll just have to stay on as lady of the manor, then,’ Benji says, winking at me.
‘I will find this heir,’ I tell him. ‘Now I know they’re here at the castle, I will find them, Benji; you just see if I don’t.’
‘So what’s this guy like?’ Tom asks me as we wait in the courtyard to greet our important vi
sitor on Monday morning.
Arthur, back at work now after his few days off, and Benji are already waiting at the front gate to meet Toby and escort him up to us in the main castle.
‘It will create a sense of importance and grandeur about the occasion,’ Benji had insisted when we’d discussed who would greet our visitor and where. ‘Like he’s being escorted in to meet with nobility.’
‘He’s going to be a tad disappointed when he finds me, then,’ I’d told him, smiling.
‘Not at all. You’re going to make a fabulous impression on him, I’m sure of it.’
I wasn’t quite so confident. But Benji seemed to think this was the best course of action so we were going with his plan.
‘I don’t know what he’s like,’ I tell Tom. ‘Benji has done all the organising. All I know is that we have to impress him enough so he gives us some money – sorry investment. You look very smart, by the way,’ I tell him, looking him up and down. ‘I didn’t know you owned a full suit.’
‘It’s hardly a suit, I’ve ditched the jacket; it’s far too hot for that today.’
Tom is wearing a tight-fitting waistcoat with a shirt and tie combination. His waistcoat and trousers fit him so well; they must have been tailor-made.
‘Well, I like it. It’s very . . . you.’
‘Very me meaning . . . very sexy?’
I grin at him. ‘Perhaps.’
My phone beeps in my pocket. ‘He’s here,’ I say, looking at the message from Benji. ‘Brace yourself.’
We wait in the courtyard for Benji and Arthur to escort Toby up the path, in through the archway and under the portcullis.
And as I see the small party appear in the courtyard, I suddenly realise what my ancestors must have felt like when they saw enemies about to invade their home.
‘Ah, here’s our wonderful leader,’ Benji says, as he leads a tall but lanky man towards us wearing an ill-fitting plain grey suit. ‘Amelia, I’d like you to meet Toby. Toby, this is Amelia.’
