Chapter 34
FOUR MONTHS LATER
Hope sat in the chair, staring out at the leafy green garden. She was numb. It was as if she couldn’t feel anything. Not the dampness of her tears, not the sound of the birdlife that had once given her so much joy, and not even the pain that was sending tendrils across every inch of her body.
Charles was gone.
Her daughter was gone.
Gus was gone.
There was no one and nothing left for her in London, and she had nothing to go home to. Once again, she’d been left entirely, utterly alone. She’d thought nothing could be worse than losing her baby.
How wrong she’d been.
There was a knock at the door and Hope looked up, noticing her now-cold coffee still perched on the table in front of her.
She sat, not ready to see anyone or talk to anyone looking for her uncle, when the sound echoed again, louder this time.
Insistent. Telling her that the person knocking wasn’t going away.
She rose, summoning the energy to move through the house and open the door.
Hope took a deep breath, wondering how many more times she’d open the door before she’d have to find somewhere new to live.
Somewhere else to start life again. It was almost impossible not to remember the last time she’d opened the door, inviting his friends inside for the dinner party Charles had hosted in her honour.
It felt like a lifetime ago, when instead it was mere months.
She swung it open just as another knock began.
‘Hope?’ The man asking was dressed in a suit, his hair was neatly combed back and he carried a briefcase.
‘Yes?’ she replied, wondering who he was and why he was standing on her doorstep. Was he here to kick her out within days of Charles’s passing? ‘Who’s asking?’
‘I’m Timothy Allan, your uncle’s lawyer,’ he said. ‘I apologise for the intrusion, but writing to you didn’t seem personal enough, given how long I knew Charles.’
She blinked back at him. Hope had been so numb that she hadn’t opened any of the post that had arrived, no matter how many times the housekeeper had piled it in the kitchen for her, so if he had written she’d never have found it.
‘May I come in?’
Hope stood aside, watching as he waited for her to close the door, as he paused only to look at one of her paintings before he walked straight down to the kitchen and placed his briefcase on the table.
He’d most definitely been a visitor before when her uncle had been alive, given how familiar he was with the house.
‘If you want to know when I’ll be leaving, I—’
‘Leaving?’ He shook his head, his smile far more kind than she’d expected.
‘There’s no need to be talking of leaving, my dear.
I’ve come to read your uncle’s will to you, since you’re his only beneficiary.
It’s why I’ve been writing to you, and when you didn’t contact my office, I took it upon myself to make a home visit instead. ’
Hope found herself dropping straight into a chair. ‘I’m sorry, his beneficiary?’ She swallowed. ‘What exactly does that mean? I’m not entirely sure I understand.’
‘It means that your uncle Charles has left you everything. He made an appointment to see me soon after you came into his life, and had his will altered.’ The lawyer smiled again, and Hope found herself staring at him, barely able to blink as she listened to his words.
‘Did he not mention it to you? I didn’t realise this was something he’d chosen to keep to himself. ’
She shook her head. ‘No, he never mentioned it. I presumed…’ Hope didn’t know what she’d presumed. She knew that her uncle had no family of his own, but she’d known him for such a short time, and despite the kindness he’d shown her, she’d never dreamed of this. Why would he do such a thing?
‘I’ll leave this copy here with you, but in short, you’ve been left this house, its contents and the money in your uncle’s bank account. It’s not what I’d call a fortune, but it’s certainly enough to allow you to live comfortably, which is what he would have wanted.’
Hope could hear what the lawyer was saying, but she could barely comprehend it. That she now owned a house? That she wouldn’t have to leave the home she’d come to love because her uncle had passed away?
‘You’re certain that’s what he wanted? My uncle intended all of this to be mine?’
‘I’ve no doubt that my client was of sound mind when he made his decision.
In fact, I’d say that he was thrilled to have reconnected with a family member as lovely as you, especially after all this time, and I took great satisfaction in assisting him.
Charles was very fond of you, Hope. He told me so on every occasion that I met with him leading up to his passing. ’
She glanced at the paperwork in front of her, tears welling in her eyes as she realised what this meant.
The lawyer continued to talk and ran her through each part of the will, which she could barely grasp she was still in so much shock, and asking her to sign where necessary before finally rising to leave.
It wasn’t until then that she realised she hadn’t offered him so much as a cup of tea for his troubles.
‘Is there anything else I can assist you with today?’ he asked. ‘I’ll always be available, should you have any legal matters that need attending to, and I know that it might be a few days before you have questions. But please know that you can always call on me.’
‘Actually, there are two things,’ Hope said, nervously wringing her hands together as she stood. ‘If you have a moment.’
‘Of course.’
‘Well, the first is rather simple, I hope. I’d very much like to change my surname to Berenson, to honour my uncle.’
The lawyer’s smile was kind. ‘Of course. I can most certainly assist you with that. And what else is there that I can do for you?’
‘I… well, I’m not certain what my uncle told you about my situation when I arrived,’ she began. ‘It’s not exactly something that would come up in polite conversation, which makes what I have to say a little sensitive.’
‘I know what you are speaking of,’ he said. ‘There’s no need to explain. You can speak frankly and ask me whatever is on your mind without fear of judgement.’
Hope took a deep breath. ‘I was told that my infant daughter died during childbirth, but I don’t believe that to be the case,’ she said.
‘I heard her crying. I know I lost a lot of blood, and that the delivery was complicated, but I believe my baby was taken without my consent. I know she was alive, that everything about that day has been a lie.’
He nodded, and if he was judging her, he certainly didn’t show it. ‘Write down the details of the convent, and anything else you can recall from that day. I’m happy to wait, and the more information you provide, the better.’
Hope swallowed. ‘You’ll help me?’
‘I’ll do more than help you, Hope. I’ll get to the bottom of what happened to your daughter, and you can trust in my discretion.’ His smile was kind. ‘If you’re happy to retain me as your lawyer, then I will give you the same service that I gave your uncle.’
She stayed seated at the table and wrote everything down for him, only passing the paper to him once she was certain that she’d missed nothing.
‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘I wouldn’t have asked, but I don’t know what else to do, or who to turn to.’
‘Well, I’m pleased you told me. You can trust that I’ll do everything in my power to find the answers you seek.’
He stood and began to walk to the door as she followed behind, before he suddenly turned around.
‘Hope, there’s one last thing that I almost forgot,’ he said. ‘Your uncle told me that there would be a box for you, left on his bedside table. It was something he wanted you to have, but I have no further details to give you on that.’
Hope thanked the lawyer and showed him out, her legs close to buckling as she held on to the door handle—it had been quite the afternoon.
But her curiosity was piqued, so as exhausted as she was, she forced herself to move and hurry up the stairs to her uncle’s bedroom, letting herself in and immediately spying the little wooden box on his bedside table.
She’d been in his bedroom only a couple of times before to dust when the housekeeper hadn’t come in, but she’d been careful not to linger in his private space or touch any of his personal belongings.
Which made being in there without his permission, in a room that still felt very much like his despite his absence, all the more strange.
She reached for the box and then sat on his bed, the mattress sinking a little beneath her, soft and warm, as she wondered what in heaven’s name could be inside.
The box had a string tied around it, and there was a tag with her name written on it, too.
She wondered when he’d done this, and what he might have placed inside, and she quickly worked at the string and opened the lid.
Had he made this months ago when she’d first arrived?
When she was at the convent? Or more recently?
She only wished he’d been here so that she could ask him.
Inside there was a letter, folded down into a small square, a modest pair of diamond earrings and a brass key.
She reached for the earrings first, turning them over in her fingers and admiring how beautiful they were, touching the key and then finally opening the letter.
She was almost too scared to read it; too scared of the emotions that might be stirred by reading something left to her by Charles, that he’d written just for her.
But Hope had already read the hardest letter of her life; nothing could be as heartbreaking as finding out that her Gus had died.
Although in saying that, Charles had been all she’d had left in recent months, so his death had been almost as difficult for her as Gus’s passing, albeit in a different way.
My dearest Hope,