chapter Fifty-two
My phone rings half an hour later while I’m setting up for my Monday workshop. Leonie’s name flashes on the screen.
“Leonie. Hi.”
“Hi.” She sounds breathless.
“I just have ten minutes before my next lot of customers start arriving.” I push my earbuds in so I have free hands to work.
“I hope you don’t mind; Evan is here, will you talk to him? I’ve put you on speaker.”
“Of course. Hi, Evan.”
“Hello, Evie. Do you have time to talk?”
So while I line up large pots of geraniums and penstemon, Evan starts speaking, carefully and methodically in that way he has. “First of all, and this is very important, did you submit any accounts to Companies House?”
“No, of course not. Not yet. I would have done next year. The only thing I submitted was the initial company setup when I started.”
“I have a copy of that. It says, here, ‘North Park’.” He speaks as if reading from something.
North Park. My hands stop pressing the soil around the rosemary and lavender bushes. The name takes me back to those early days. My stomach twists remembering that excitement of a new project, a new discovery. “Yes, that was the name. Before I renamed it Hope Gardens, remember.”
“Have you registered your business as—”
But I’m ahead of him. “In all the rush, I forgot. I was supposed to send a change of name to Companies House, but you remember how busy we were in the lead up to the Easter test run. I must have forgotten. All I did is create a business bank account for Hope Gardens Enterprise, but it’s not clear that it’s the same as North Park. ”
“Okay, Evie, this is the situation here. When my brother and his investigators came, they were told by almost everyone that you had sold me your business. They obviously must have done a search and found North Park but nothing else.”
The clock on the wall says 9:55am, and I can already see Mrs Baker pointing a couple of people towards the conservatory. They stop to help themselves to the coffee and biscuits I’ve laid out on the table by the door.
“Evan? What happened with the deeds I gave you?”
He draws an audible breath. “I never accepted your decision. You know that. The deeds you gave me are locked up in my safe.” Then, to make the point very clear, he says, “No one has seen them except me.”
“And what’s been done with the income from visitors?” I ask, hoping, hoping.
“Your share, after paying the staff, has been deposited in a separate bank account.”
“And your brother and his team know nothing about this?” I ask quickly, because more people have arrived.
“No, I haven’t given them access to my financial records, so they don’t know what money comes in from the garden or the holiday letting of your apartment,” Evan says. “It’s been very popular, by the way.”
Great news, but I don’t let myself grin just yet.
“Okay, Leonie should listen to this. We need a witness.”
“I’m here,” Leonie says.
“Right. I want you to use all the revenue generated by Hope Gardens and the apartment to help everyone else affected by this injunction.”
Evan must have already known what I would say because he answers right away. “Are you sure, Evie? This is your money, and there’s rather a lot of it.”
“Good. You’re all going to need it.”
“I won’t lie to you. This is a very welcome and desperately needed gift. It might…” He breaks off and clears his throat. “It just might save us.”
I wave to my customers and beckon them to the potting area.
“Evie.” He’s still talking. “This is a loan, not a donation. If and when we come out of this, I will repay you every pound. I’m going to send you receipts so it’s all above board.”
“No need.”
“Every need. Evie, it’s a deal breaker. I won’t take your money without proper—”
“Fine, fine.” I clamp the phone between my ear and shoulder while finding aprons for all my customers. “Promise me you won’t give up on Kendric Park and its community.”
“You’re asking me?” He chuckles softly. “But Evie, I need your address to send you a record of all the payments.”
I collect spare gloves and trowels while giving him the address to my cheap little cottage, then say a quick goodbye.