Chapter Four
Mr Parker hesitated. Unfortunately, he couldn’t change how things had been set up or refuse to get involved because his predecessor had arranged all this according to Miss Westerby’s requirements and then retired, leaving others in the firm the unpleasant necessity of putting that client’s requirements into operation.
However, though their now deceased client would have had a fit at him saying this, his conscience was not easy about what he was being forced to do in his new role. ‘This isn’t a legal matter and I’d ask that you keep what I’m about to say to yourself. It’s a suggestion from me offered as a man only a little older than you and with a sister of about your age.’
She studied his face, then nodded slowly.
Darren took a deep breath and told her his main concern, keeping his voice low. ‘Your family home has been standing vacant for nearly two months, ever since the old lady was rushed into hospital after her stroke. That would be known about in the district. And even though the police made sure the house was locked up immediately and our clerk had the locks changed, you can’t be sure that no one has got in there, or that it’s safe for you to go into it now.’
She nodded again.
‘Your aunt remained comatose and although she’d had a live-in housekeeper, the woman was locked out by the police on our senior manager’s suggestion and her possessions were packed for her. That is something I didn’t agree with and still consider very short-sighted. As a result there was no one to make sure the place remained secure and to check that nothing had been taken.’
That surprised her. ‘Didn’t your firm keep ongoing checks on the place? There must surely have been a security system of some sort installed already that could have been switched on, even if it was old-fashioned?’
‘I’m afraid there has never been any kind of security system. We did contact the police to check what we might be allowed to do, but we’ve had no authorisation for going inside the house, let alone having a system installed. And in fact no one from our firm had ever been inside it, which rather clinched the matter as far as the police were concerned.’
‘Goodness, that sounds very lax.’
‘Yes. Your aunt refused more than once to act on our suggestion that she have a modern security system installed. She always claimed that she had a very sensible housekeeper who rarely went out, which was better than any mechanical system. And she said that there were also neighbours she could call on for help if needed. But though we met the housekeeper, the only neighbour we met was your cousin Mitchell, who lives in one of the two nearby cottages. And even then, he occupies the smaller of the two cottages in the grounds of the big house, he goes away quite often.’
‘Oh. That sounds very lax.’
‘Indeed it is. Your aunt lived a very isolated sort of life, hardly associating with anyone apart from that housekeeper, who is a difficult person to deal with.’
‘She was always very secretive about herself in all her interactions with her family, wasn’t she? I was her closest relative and yet I only ever met her in person a couple of times, and that was when I was a child.’
‘Yes, you’re right there. She was always very insistent that we should leave her in peace, as she put it. She dealt with us by post or telephone mainly, never digitally and only once or twice in person. And the family house is rather a long way from our office in London, so it wouldn’t have been easy for her to get here, since she didn’t drive, or for us to send any of our staff there regularly to check the place because she certainly wouldn’t have paid the extra expenses for that.’
He paused and stared at her. ‘To be frank, we were always surprised that your family chose to deal with our firm, though pleased to have the Westerbys as clients, of course, some of our firm’s earliest clients I gather. So, bearing all that in mind, it was decided that we wouldn’t press for access when she was taken ill but just lock the place up.’
‘I see.’
‘What I’m trying to say is that I’m rather concerned about your safety there, Ms Westerby. I gather that the house is on the edge of a small village called Fairford Parva and the nearest police station is some distance away in Fairford Magna, which is, as the name suggests, a much bigger village. But the police station isn’t staffed at night, so if there’s a problem it takes quite a while for an officer to answer a call for help.’ He paused and waited for a few moments as if unsure whether to continue or not.
‘Do go on.’
‘My unofficial advice is that you’d be wise to get some sort of security system installed as soon as you can. Don’t ask for permission from my firm, just do it. And perhaps you should get all the locks changed yet again as well. Who knows whether any copies even of the recent new set have been given to others? I must admit that I didn’t take to the housekeeper, however highly Miss Westerby thought of her. She was actually a sort of cook-housekeeper. Anyway, this Ms Parnham has been asking about a box of papers which she says she needs to deal with for her former employer, but we have it locked in a cupboard there and since we’ve no proof that it really is hers, we have refused access. You’ll need to check the ownership.’
He paused again as if to let what he’d suggested sink in then went on, ‘I also feel it might be wise for you to take someone with you on your first visit, in case the house has been broken into.’
‘Aren’t there rules about me doing that?’ She hoped she hadn’t sounded sarcastic, but there were so many rules she would be surprised if there weren’t any for this.
‘No. I don’t think your aunt even considered it a possibility that you’d take anyone with you or she’d have mentioned it. She, um, never seemed to have any friends herself, apparently, unless you count her housekeeper.’
‘What did she do about the heavy housework and so on? If it’s a large house, she’d need more domestic help than a cook-housekeeper, and perhaps various sorts of personal help as she grew older.’
‘I don’t really know, I must admit. It was the housekeeper who raised the alarm about her when she had the stroke, remember. She went with her to hospital. And by the time she got home again, the house had been locked up and her personal possessions taken to the cottage in the village that she and her brother had inherited.’
‘It sounds to be a very strange set-up.’
‘Yes. And things were going downhill rapidly in the grounds, I’m afraid. The gardener moved away from the area last year and wasn’t replaced.’
‘Where is the housekeeper now?’
‘In her own cottage in the village. We terminated her employment when it was clear that your aunt would not recover.’
‘These arrangements all seem very chancy.’
‘Yes. They are. I presume you can contact the housekeeper and ask her for any further details about the house that you require.’ He waited, clearly needing to continue with his day.
‘Thank you for your help and your concern about my safety. I’ll definitely look at improving security there as soon as possible.’ She didn’t say it, but she couldn’t see a need to take someone with her when she went there. She’d check the exterior of the house for someone breaking in, and that should cover the security side of things.
He stood up. ‘Good. I’ll show you out, then. You can always get back to me if anything else crops up.’
He had, she thought, satisfied his conscience by telling her about the lack of security in general terms. She’d have to look into that side of things properly when she went to the house. And without delay. But hey, small villages didn’t usually harbour criminal gangs, she thought with a smile as she left the building and went back to her car.
She sat for a moment wondering what to do first. She had a lot to think about even before she went down to Wiltshire.
She was sorry not to be going on holiday with Libby now. She didn’t like letting her friend down.
Mitchell Westerby walked slowly across to the village shop to pick up his daily newspaper and a loaf. He saw three people standing gossiping near the checkout.
As they didn’t see him straight away, he edged to the left just inside the entrance, picking up a few items from nearby shelves and placing them in his wire basket. He did this slowly, pretending to read the labels so that he could listen to what the other customers were saying. It was often the quickest way to find out the latest gossip.
But he could only delay for so long because the couple who owned the shop knew what he usually bought here and he had nothing different in mind today; he couldn’t afford anything but necessities. After a while he went to join the others, smiling and saying ‘Good morning!’ as he waited in line at the checkout.
As usual he received only the faintest of smiles or nods in return. The locals barely tolerated him because they had disliked his mother and not been fond of his great-aunt, either. Well, he had shared their dislike of the old witch, if truth be told, but he hadn’t been able to afford to show that because she was the one who’d brought him here and let him stay rent-free in a cottage she owned. Not that he stayed here full time. There was nothing to do in such a benighted spot. When he could afford it, he went to stay with friends.
He’d tried to get on better terms with his neighbours, hoping to join the group of men who met in the pub and sat drinking together there in the evenings. Unfortunately he hadn’t succeeded. They did not, it seemed from what he’d heard, wish to associate socially with any connection of his branch of the family.
The old lady had died a few weeks ago, leaving the cottage tenancy to him for fifteen years rent free, then it was to revert to the estate. That had been a big relief because he was going through a bad patch and Lady Luck hadn’t been smiling on him. Maybe by that time he’d have his other encumbrance off his hands and be free to spend all his money on himself, not to mention buying a decent flat in London, which was where he’d have preferred to live.
Of course the old hag had wanted him to do something for her in return, but it would fit in easily with his own plans.
When no one spoke to him, he took the initiative. ‘You sounded excited. Has something interesting happened?’
They hesitated, then one shrugged and said, ‘Don’t you know about the new owner of your great-aunt’s house coming here to live? It’d be a relative of yours, wouldn’t it, surely?’
‘I’m from another branch of Westerbys to the ones who own the big house.’
One of the more pleasant villagers said, ‘We don’t like to gossip but you’re bound to find out, or you may even know already that it’s a woman who has inherited the big house from your great-aunt. It seems she’ll be coming to live here soon.’
‘That’ll give you a chance to suck up to her as well,’ a voice said, not one he recognised or could tie to a face now.
‘It’s no more than I expected that a woman has inherited. That house has always been passed to the closest female relative.’ He managed to say that calmly though the thought of it annoyed him. It was sexism in reverse, that was, aimed against men.
‘Do you know who this female is?’ someone else asked. ‘All we know is she’s another Miss Westerby, which doesn’t tell us much about her.’
The woman next to him interrupted her friend, ‘No, Jean, this one is a Ms Westerby. A person from a younger generation than the last one, probably.’
‘That’s what I was told,’ another man said, giving Mitchell a sneering look. ‘There’s your chance to find a rich wife, Westerby, then you’ll never have to work again.’
‘I don’t want any sort of wife, thank you very much, rich or not.’ Which wasn’t a lie. He didn’t want another woman to cost him so much money as his one and only wife had done, and then run away with another man and left him with ongoing expenses from the time she’d lived with him. He kept hoping to hear that she’d divorced him, because he didn’t want to waste what meagre funds he did have on lawyers or even legal advice. He’d definitely never ever marry again. Well, not unless he found a rich woman who didn’t want her husband in attendance all the time.
In the meantime he’d do as the old lady wished and keep an eye on things. Cunning, she’d been, finding out about his weak spot.
He forced a smile as he looked round. ‘Well, I don’t know all the Westerby family details, but I shall look forward to meeting this distant relative and welcoming her to the village.’
He paid for his purchases, said farewell and left. He heard the conversation strike up in a more lively manner as he left the shop. It always did. They never chatted to him for long.
He strolled back to his cottage, scowling into the distance. The old woman had brought him to the village for a definite purpose, one that was still valid and would bring him in some money if he played his cards right. So he intended to continue doing what she’d paid him to and carry out her wishes if he could.
Did the new owner even know about his existence? He’d better check that the payments were still being made to him as arranged even though the old lady was now dead. He didn’t want to waste his time.