Chapter Seventy
After Peter’s death, I eventually received a substantial sum of money.
It came about due to death in service benefits.
This benefit was four times that of my husband’s basic salary.
As a successful lawyer, he’d earnt a small fortune.
What with bonuses… well, one didn’t need a calculator to work out why Joy and James had been worried about gold diggers – and that was without factoring in Peter’s pension and our joint equity in Moonlight Manor.
However, the death in service benefits had not sat easily with me.
Despite Liam saying I hadn’t killed Peter, and despite knowing that my husband’s death had been an unspeakably horrible accident, the fact remained that if I hadn’t shoved him, Peter wouldn’t be dead – and I wouldn’t have received a stonking sum of money.
As far as I was concerned, this money was ill-gotten gains and off limits. What to do with such a windfall? The answer was obvious. Buy Starlight Hall and then donate it to the village.
A visit to a solicitor had been set in motion.
As the Diocese had now accepted my offer, everything else would flow easily.
I’d already made provisions to set up a Community Benefit Society – namely the Starlight Society.
They would own the building. This included protective clauses in a Trust Deed.
It would be registered as an Asset of Community Value with a clear succession plan – both through trusteeship and my Will.
All this information whirled through my head as pandemonium broke out.
‘QUIET PLEASE,’ Sylvia boomed over the din. Slowly, the uproar abated. ‘Mrs Armstrong would like to say a few words.’ Sylvia scanned the audience. ‘Jen, where are you?’
‘Here,’ I said, standing up.
As I rose from my seat and slowly made my way to the front of the hall, you could have heard a pin drop. Cilla was sitting in the front row. She looked up at me. Her expression was one of stunned confusion.
‘Right,’ I said hoarsely. Coughing, I cleared my throat and tried again.
‘Hello, everyone. I won’t keep you long.
I know you all want answers – and you absolutely deserve them.
So, here’s what I’ve done.’ I looked at the sea of expectant faces.
‘The Diocese wanted to sell this hall to a developer. We’ve all seen what happens when that starts.
First, a few houses. Then fifty. Then the fields are gone, and the traffic is up.
Then the heart of the village disappears under a layer of brick dust.’ I swallowed nervously.
‘Like all of you here, I wasn’t in favour of this.
And then, thanks to my late husband’s death in service benefits, I realised I had the means to ensure this might not happen.
So, I made an offer. A serious one. It was higher than the Starlight Society’s.
And it turned out to be higher than the developer’s bid.
And the Diocese accepted that offer. This hall – this building, this land – might currently belong to me, but it won’t be for long.
You see, I didn’t buy it to keep it. I bought it to give back.
I’ve set up a charitable trust – the Starlight Hall Village Trust. I’ve appointed trustees – including my son and daughter – to make decisions together, with the village, as a group.
Not me alone. I’ll be one of them, for now. But after me, others will step in.’
Somebody started to clap. And then a tidal wave of applause swept through the hall. I smiled at everyone, nervous, but glad they approved.
‘The Trust’s only job’ – I continued – ‘is to look after this hall for the benefit of the village, and to make sure it always stays a space for the community, both now and long after we’ve all gone.
It’s going to be legally protected, so it can’t be sold off.
It can’t be turned into flats, or fenced off for someone’s private use.
Even if someone tried, they’d run into a wall of legal brickwork that would take a small army of lawyers to undo – and that’s why the hall will be registered as an Asset of Community Value, just in case.
That gives the village a formal say. In short: this hall is ours. Properly, permanently, legally ours.’
Another round of applause broke out, but I put up my hand to halt it.
‘I didn’t do this to be clapped. I did it because I’ve spent years living in this village and I know what Starlight Hall means to everyone.
Weddings are held here. Wakes too. From playgroups to Pilates, fetes to flower arranging, gymkhanas to gym classes, dog shows to design displays.
I’m not saving the past; I’m simply making sure we still have a future – together. ’
Suddenly Hetty was on her feet.
‘My father laid the first floorboard in this hall. He’d be proud today.
And so am I. And I’m so happy to know that, after securing a showbiz agent’ – she grinned widely – ‘I can tell my agent that I’m happy to go on tour.
The first venue is going to be right here, at Starlight Hall!
’ Cheers and whoops greeted Hetty’s impromptu speech.
She blew me a kiss. ‘Thank you, my dear.’
Everyone once again applauded and whistled, just as Cilla appeared by my side. She gave me a hug, then turned to the gathering. Everyone settled down again.
‘Thank you, Jen,’ she said, sounding choked.
Her eyes glittered with unshed tears as she turned to the audience.
‘This lady has done something amazing. I now pledge that the funds raised by the Starlight Society will be amalgamated into the Starlight Hall Village Trust. This isn’t just a hall.
It’s our history. Our hearthstone. Jen has preserved something that the Starlight Society did their best to do, but it was always a gamble.
On behalf of the village, thank you, Jen.
And now’ – Cilla flung her arms wide – ‘I want everyone over to the Starlight Arms. Drinks are on the house!’
I was almost swept away by the ebullient crowd. Shouting and shrieking, they thronged out of the hall, sounding like a frenzy of seagulls screeching over a find of dropped chips.
I pulled back, letting the last of the crowd scamper past me. I needed to take a moment to recalibrate.
Outside, the cool air hit my flushed cheeks. I watched the last of the villagers disappear into the pub, their chatter fading on the damp air.
And then I saw him.
He was leaning against the low wall near the gate, watching me with a playful half-smile. His eyes were doing that familiar twinkle, the one that always made my stomach somersault.
Slowly, I walked over to him.
‘Well,’ said Liam softly. ‘That was impressive.’
‘Hello, you,’ I said cautiously. I brushed a strand of hair from my face. ‘Are we still friends?’
‘What do you think?’ he grinned. ‘Do you know that you’ve just declared war on my entire profession?’
‘You’ll recover.’ I kicked the toe of my shoe back and forth, then gave Liam a pensive look. ‘Do you think I’m mad?’
‘Oh, absolutely,’ he said without hesitation. ‘But in the best possible way. Also, now that you’ve tied Starlight Hall into a thousand legal knots and blocked my bulldozer, I think it’s time to go public.’
‘You mean’ – I hesitated, then gasped – ‘show everyone that we’re a couple?’
‘Yes, Jen.’ He pulled me to him and his warm lips brushed against mine. ‘I came here to build houses but found something else.’ He paused. Gave me a searching look. ‘If you’ll have me, then I’m open to a different kind of foundation.’
I burst out laughing – which probably wasn’t quite the reaction he was expecting.
‘That was a terrible metaphor,’ I said, hugging him tightly. ‘Beyond cheesy.’
‘Give me time,’ he smiled, dropping another kiss on my lips. ‘I’m better with blueprints than poetry. Which reminds me. Have you had any further interest in Moonlight Manor?’
An image of Joyce Hatton flashed through my mind. We’d both had final closure over Peter.
‘No,’ I sighed, shaking my head.
‘In which case’ – Liam took me by the hand and began to lead me towards the pub – ‘I happen to have a friend who would like to offer the full asking price.’
‘Oh, really.’ I shot him a sceptical look. ‘After saving Starlight Hall, you now want me to upset the locals by selling my home to your friend?’
‘There would be no upset,’ he promised. ‘My friend would retain the original outline and preserve the character and flavour. The transformation would be within. Moonlight Manor would contain a handful of contemporary apartments. Any additional materials – extra garaging for example – would completely match the land.’
‘Your friend seems to have given this considerable thought.’
‘Oh, he has,’ Liam assured, as we paused outside the pub’s entrance. ‘There’s just one tiny blip – but my friend doesn’t think it’s anything that can’t be resolved.’
‘Oh?’ I arched an eyebrow. ‘What’s the blip?’
Liam sighed.
‘A Restrictive Covenant.’
‘Which is?’
Suddenly Liam looked very serious. ‘My friend wants you and your twins to move in with him, with a view to living happily ever after.’