A Liverpool Legacy (10 page)

There were huge copper containers holding the concentrates she produced, and big stands held more jars, bell jars and aluminium drums, making avenues up and down the room so it was impossible to see across it. There were two sinks and benches at which she could work. She had her desk in the furthest corner, while Denis had taken over what had been her workstation when she’d started – a small table with a bookcase and chair in a corner near the door.

As she closed it behind her Millie heard an exasperated voice say, ‘Well, come on, I want to know what this is for.’

She pulled up short when she saw James’s younger son leaning over her equipment. A nervous looking Denis stood at attention beside him. ‘Hello, Marcus,’ she said coldly. ‘What are you doing here? Has something gone wrong?’

Denis looked relieved to see her. ‘Morning, Mrs Maynard,’ he said and scurried out of sight to the other end of the room.

She could see that Marcus was ill at ease. ‘We didn’t expect you to come in, Millie. How are you?’

She gulped. ‘As well as can be expected. I thought I’d left enough essentials to keep the factory working, but of course I expected to be back on Wednesday.’ She could think of no other reason why he should be here. ‘Is the factory running out of perfume?’

‘No,’ he said awkwardly. ‘Father thought you might not want to work here any more. He asked me to familiarise myself with what needed to be done.’

‘Heavens! The last thing I want is to stop working. From now on, I shall need something to fill my day.’

Marcus looked embarrassed. He was Pete’s younger nephew, and was some two years older than Millie. He was balding a little now but that was only visible from the back. He had a rather lordly attitude and Pete had said he was inclined to throw his weight about. His father spoke proudly of him, though he’d spent most of the war years behind a desk in Catterick.

Millie asked slowly, ‘Are you saying that you’re coming to work in the firm?’ She didn’t like the idea.

‘Father wants me to.’ His eyes wouldn’t meet hers. ‘Now Uncle Peter has . . . gone, everything will have to be reorganised, won’t it?’

‘Yes, but . . .’ Millie felt she should have been consulted; after all, they must realise she’d inherit Pete’s share and she’d worked here for years. ‘Is he in today? Your father?’

‘Yes,’ he mumbled.

‘I’d better go along and see him,’ she said, ‘to tell him you won’t be needed to do my job. I’ll continue to take care of the dyes and perfumes.’ She could hear him blustering as he followed her along the corridor but she took no notice.

Some years ago, Pete had given up the largest office in the building to James because he complained of difficulty in getting up another flight of stairs to his smaller one. A large mahogany table took up some of the space as it was also used as their boardroom. Its several windows provided good views of the Mersey.

She rapped sharply on the door and went in, closely followed by Marcus. James lowered the newspaper he’d been reading and pushed himself back from his grand mahogany desk. He was three years younger than Pete but had developed heart trouble in his forties and had suffered two small strokes. He’d had considerable ill health since and was absent from work a good deal of the time.

It had been Pete’s opinion that he’d slowed down to the point of doing next to nothing and should have retired years ago. But James needed to believe he was still capable of doing a day’s work so Pete had taken over all responsibility for running the business while encouraging his brother to think he was still playing an important part.

‘Emily!’ He was struggling to pull his bulk from the chair and come to greet her. He had a florid complexion and very little hair left, his pink scalp was shiny and he was seriously overweight. ‘There was absolutely no need for you to come in, my dear. How are you?’

‘A bit shocked, James, to find Marcus in the lab trying to familiarise himself with my job so he can take it over.’

James looked taken aback. ‘Oh my dear, that was not the intention, not at all. You mustn’t think like that. We were afraid you’d be needing help now.’

‘Not with a job I’ve been doing for years.’ She stood resolute before him. ‘He was trying to pick Denis’s brains on lab work but I’d prefer him to deal with me.’

‘He didn’t want to bother you at this difficult time. Come and sit down.’ James pulled out a chair in front of his desk and urged her to it. ‘How are the children? They must be very upset.’

‘They are but—’

‘Peter’s death affects all of us. It also affects the business. I meant to have a word with Pete, but events have overtaken me there. To be honest, I’m thinking of retiring. There doesn’t seem much point in carrying on now Marcus has been demobbed.’

She stared at him. ‘What?’

‘Now the war’s over I need to find another career,’ Marcus told her.

Millie turned back to his father. ‘Are you telling me Marcus is going to take over from you?’

‘Millie, it’s been on my mind since poor Peter . . . well, since he died,’ James took off his heavy spectacles and mopped at his eyes, ‘that you might like to sell his share of the business to another member of the family.’

Millie was astounded. ‘Why?’ she demanded.

‘Well, we thought you might prefer to move on now Peter’s gone.’

‘Sell to Marcus, you mean?’

‘Well, yes, Marcus and Nigel.’ James was struggling. ‘They need to earn a living and the business won’t support us all, not like it used to. They work well together and both want to find a new direction in life.’

‘But they know nothing about the business,’ Millie protested. ‘We need somebody who does.’ Most of their senior managers had been working for them since before the war. Pete had believed them to be totally reliable but they were all close to retirement age now, and there wasn’t one who would want to run the company. ‘Wouldn’t it be better to bring in an experienced professional manager from a similar trade?’

‘I don’t believe that will be necessary. Both my sons are adaptable and quick to learn.’

‘But Marcus has spent years in the army and Nigel in the Colonial Service in India. They can’t run the company without an understanding of—’

‘These are hard times, Millie,’ Marcus came to his father’s aid, ‘and there’s no point in hiding the fact that we’re disappointed with the way the business is performing. It isn’t making the profit we’d hoped for. The war drove it almost out of existence, but it should be pulling up now. It needs more vigorous management, a different approach, a tougher hand with the staff.’

Millie was horrified. ‘It’s doing well, Pete was a good manager.’

James was waving his plump hands about and his large nose was developing a purplish tinge. ‘We need to watch our expenses, increase our sales, cut out the dead wood . . .’

Millie’s mouth had gone dry. ‘You count me as dead wood?’

‘No, Emily, not you. Not you at all. You mustn’t take everything we say personally.’

Marcus asked, ‘Didn’t Peter tell you we were worried about the business?’

‘No, quite the opposite. I thought—’

‘Peter was worried too.’ James was trying to support his son.

‘No,’ she was shocked, ‘no, he wasn’t.’

‘I don’t suppose he wanted to talk about it when he was home with his family. We’re all upset about it. It’s depressing to see the family firm go down like this.’

‘James, what are you talking about?’ Millie was aghast. ‘I can’t understand where you get that idea. You must know the war almost brought the company to a standstill because all our young staff were away fighting and soap was rationed. It still is because the politicians have decided scarce fats are needed for food.

‘We could sell every tablet of soap we make but although we’re able to get more of what we need, the lack of essential ingredients is still holding us up. All the same, both turnover and profit were up in last year’s accounts.’ Pete had said they were continuing to climb slowly. ‘He was delighted and thought the company was getting back on its feet.’

They were looking at each other somewhat disconcerted. James said, ‘Oh, I think you’re mistaken, my dear.’

Millie could feel a wall of anger building up inside her. For years, James had been leaving almost every decision to Pete. It offended her that they were running down what he’d achieved. She took a deep breath, she needed to keep her temper now.

‘What you say isn’t true,’ she said, looking Marcus in the eye. ‘Pete has already pulled the firm out of the doldrums. He’s turned it round. Of course it still has a long way to climb before it’s making the profit it once did, but it is making a profit and everything is on course for that to continue. Pete worked very hard . . .’

James put up his hands to stop her. ‘We know how hard Peter worked. Please don’t think we don’t appreciate all he did, but with new blood in the company, Marcus feels he can pull it together and make it achieve more.’

Marcus added for good measure, ‘There’s been no growth for years and very little profit.’

Millie was so furious she could hardly get the words out. ‘I’m telling you there has. Have you looked at last year’s accounts?’ She turned to his bookcase in which the latest figures had always had a slot. Today the folder wasn’t there. ‘If you look at them, you’ll see that both profit and growth have increased. I think he worked marvels.’

‘The point is,’ Marcus said at his most lordly, ‘do you wish to sell Uncle Peter’s share so that you, too, can make a fresh start and get on with your life?’

Millie could feel tears prickling her eyes but she was determined not to let them fall. ‘I haven’t had time to think much about the business since the accident, but I’ll give it some thought now. I’ll need to work and managing the perfume laboratory is all I know. Without Pete’s salary, I’ll need to maximise my income to support the children.’

James said disparagingly, ‘Peter always had expensive tastes. You may have to live more economically in the future. Selling your share would give you a little money for your new life. You think about it, my dear, and let us know what you decide.’

Millie got up from the chair so quickly that it rocked. She made it back to her desk before her tears began to fall.

She felt sick with worry. It had never occurred to her that Marcus would want to buy her out of the business. That had come as a shock, especially as she’d never needed her job more. She’d thought she was good at it but perhaps . . . She leapt out of her chair and strode to the window to stare down into the shabby dockland street. Oh goodness! She must not let them get her down.

Pete had always shielded her from arguments with his brother, she wasn’t used to it and it had infuriated her to hear him say they were worried about the way he’d been running the company. Marcus had been dogmatic about last year’s results being bad, but she was almost sure he was wrong. She felt confused and could no longer trust her memory. It was many months since the accounts had been drawn up and she and Pete had talked about them. She didn’t have a copy of them here in her office, though there’d be one in Pete’s desk.

She needed to see for herself exactly what the figures were but the office Pete had used was up another flight of stairs in a turret at the end of the building, and she was afraid Marcus had already taken it over.

Chapter Nine

Millie decided to run along the corridor to see their accountant Andrew Worthington. He’d been working for them for only four months, since their previous accountant had retired. He’d been recommended to them by a relative and Pete had been pleased at the way he’d settled in. He’d thought him efficient and had told her they’d made a good choice. When she went in she was glad to see he was working on the new comptometer that they’d had to apply for a government permit to buy. He jerked to his feet when he saw her.

Pete had thought him a young man but he was actually six weeks older than Millie. Thin and rather gaunt, he’d spent months evading capture by the Japanese forces when Singapore had fallen. That he’d succeeded had made Pete see him as a war hero, but he was self-effacing and all they could get out of him was that he’d been lucky enough to have Pete’s cousin who could speak Malay as a companion, and that he’d organised everything.

‘You want to see a copy of last year’s accounts?’ Andrew pulled a chair up to his desk for her and slid a file in front of her. Millie opened it but was looking at the figures through a haze of angry tears. ‘I was so sorry to hear about your husband,’ he went on awkwardly. ‘It must have come as a terrible shock to you. An accident like that alters everything in a moment. I liked Pete. He was a good boss to work for.’

That didn’t help her tears. Neither did the sympathy she saw in his deep green eyes. ‘Shall I ask for some tea for you, Mrs Maynard?’

‘Yes, ring for some tea please.’ She mopped unashamedly at her eyes. ‘James has just told me he’s going to retire and Marcus and his brother are going to take over the running of the company.’

‘Oh!’ He went back to his seat on the other side of the desk. ‘I can see why that upsets you,’ he said gently, ‘but there will have to be changes.’

‘I know that, but Marcus is saying Pete didn’t run the company efficiently, and I know he tried very hard. They’re trying to tell me we made no profit last year.’

‘That isn’t true.’ Andrew Worthington was on his feet again. He turned to the last page of the document in front of her. His finger prodded at it. ‘Here you are, you can see the figures set out in black and white. Your husband lifted the company out of the doldrums of the war years, got it producing again. You can be proud of what he achieved.’

Millie was frowning. ‘That’s what I thought. Well, it’s what Pete told me. We’ve just completed another year, haven’t we? Has the improvement continued?’

‘Yes, the year ended on April the fifth. I’ve started to work on the accounts. I can’t give you any figures yet but it all seems fine. I think the profit will have increased.’ He supported his chin on his hands in thought. ‘Why would Marcus say such a thing when you’d probably know the exact figures? Anyway, it would be easy for you to check.’

Two cups of tea arrived. Millie sipped hers gratefully and tapped at the documents she’d been given. ‘I knew all this because Pete was always talking about the business. He was very involved in it. I couldn’t help picking up basic facts. Marcus must think I’m a fool.’

‘It makes him look a fool. Hang on.’ Andrew Worthington sat back in his chair and thought for a moment. ‘He does know the position is good. His father brought him in to introduce him a few days ago, and we talked about the annual accounts. He knows what the position is.’

‘What? Both he and his father say the company needs stronger management, that progress is slow.’

‘Whatever they are saying, they both understand the current position. Mr Maynard senior would have received a copy of these accounts from my predecessor. Look at the bottom, there’s a list of the managers who received it.’

Millie studied the printed name William James Cornelius Maynard in disbelief. ‘Then why are they saying such things?’ She blew her nose. ‘I know James used to think of me as Pete’s child-wife playing around in the lab, but that was years ago. Surely they’d give me credit for learning something since?’

The accountant was shaking his head.

‘They’ve offered to buy me out.’ She was so upset she felt her head wasn’t working as it should.

‘How much did they offer you?’

‘No figure was mentioned. It was just the suggestion that I’d need money for my new life without Pete.’ Millie stopped and tried again to think. ‘What reason could they possibly have to talk of the business being run down when they know very well it is not? Would that make it cheaper to buy me out?’

His emerald eyes were searching hers. ‘Wouldn’t they expect you to ask for an independent assessment of the value?’

‘They think I’m too stupid to do that. They think I’ll jump at any offer of money. And I think they want to get rid of me, so they talk about the business as if it’s too run down to be worth very much.’

‘How could they expect you to believe that when you work here and can check on the profit being made at any time?’

‘I don’t know, but I want to stay. I’m not going to be bought out.’ She spoke with more feeling than she’d intended. ‘I need to work. I’ve got children to support and making perfumes is all I know.’

‘Good for you. Your husband told me you’d developed quite a “nose”, he was proud of you. Scent is very important in this trade.’

That made Millie feel better, she smiled at him for the first time. ‘It is, but Marcus doesn’t know much about the business and even less about perfumes. It’ll all be new to him.’

‘Then he’ll find that you’re important to the running of this business.’

‘Am I?’ That perked her up.

‘Yes, could anybody else take your place?’

‘Pete would have been able to. He had a good “nose” too, but as general manager he had too much other work. Denis would be able to make a good attempt at it but he’ll be called up to do his National Service as soon as he’s twenty-one, so it’s no good thinking of him.’ She got to her feet. ‘I’m not going to let them put me out. I need to work. I’ll carry on.’

‘That’s the spirit,’ he said.

She went back to her own desk feeling a nervous wreck. She found it hard to believe James and Marcus were saying things to her they knew were false. She must treat it as a warning and not trust anything they told her. She could only surmise that they wanted her out of the business and were prepared to go to any lengths to achieve it.

It pleased her that she had an ally working here, Andy Worthington had made her realise she was in quite a strong position. He was on her side. She wouldn’t be fighting the Maynard clan without support.

A few days later an official envelope was pushed through Millie’s front door while she and Sylvie were having breakfast. It seemed the consequences of Pete’s terrible accident would never be over. It advised her that the inquest would be held the following week in Holyhead at ten thirty in the morning, and that both were required to attend.

She rang Valerie, who said, ‘I’ve been told to attend too and so has Helen, because we got Dad out of the water. Helen’s husband will lend us his car so we can all go together. He’s going to find the petrol from somewhere.’

‘I have Pete’s car here,’ she choked.

‘Eric’s would give us more room and we’ll need it because we’ll have to take the children.’ Eric had been lucky enough to buy a big new car just before the war started.

‘Thank you, I’m glad Sylvie and I don’t have to go on our own.’

‘Shall we stay at Hafod the night before to make sure we get there on time? With the children it will make it easier.’

‘Yes, whatever suits you, Val.’

When she told Sylvie, she said, ‘I don’t want to go. I couldn’t.’

Millie put her arms round her and gave her a hug. ‘I’m afraid you’ll have to, love,’ she said. ‘It’s the law of the land.’

They packed their funeral clothes to wear to the inquest and, as arranged, Helen drew up at their gate in mid-afternoon on the day before. Millie had always enjoyed the journey, with the lovely scenery of mountains and small hill farms on one side and the seascape on the other, but today nothing would ease her troubled mind. She and Sylvie sat on the back seat with the twins between them.

Since their hurried departure from Hafod, the house had been cleaned and tidied as it always was by Mrs Olwen Jones who lived in a nearby cottage. When they arrived, there was a jug of fresh milk in the larder and a vase of fresh flowers picked from the garden on the living-room table. Valerie had brought most of the food they’d need for dinner tonight and breakfast and lunch tomorrow.

She said to Millie, ‘Why don’t you and Sylvie take the twins for a walk along the lane while Helen and I unpack and get the dinner on the table?’

‘We could give baby Jenny an airing in her pram at the same time,’ Millie said. They set off in the late evening sunshine. Millie was glad to stretch her legs after the long car journey but it bothered her that Sylvie wouldn’t even look towards the jetty and the sea. Tonight it was calm, benign and beautiful. She could almost feel Pete’s presence in the lane with them.
Oh Pete, Pete, if only you were with us, it would seem like a normal holiday break.

Helen got them to Holyhead in good time the next morning, and the officials in charge were relaxed and polite. Millie had the impression they saw it as a low-key affair. They started on time and she was the first witness to be called to the stand. Then it was Sylvie’s turn. Everybody was very gentle with her and she managed to give her evidence clearly though tears were streaming down her face. When she came back to her seat, Millie put an arm round her shoulders and pulled her closer.

The proceedings were conducted at a fairly brisk pace. The children were very good and were passed over to other family members while their mothers gave evidence. They heard from the doctor who had been called to the jetty, then came the evidence found at the post-mortem and the coroner gave the verdict as accidental death.

‘Thank goodness that’s over,’ Helen said as she led the way out to the car.

‘It’s all very well for them to call it routine,’ Sylvie sniffed, ‘but it was about my dad and it didn’t seem like routine to me.’

‘It’s all over now,’ Valerie tried to comfort her. ‘All we have to do is learn to manage without Dad.’

‘That’s going to be the hardest part,’ Helen said with a little sniff.

After they’d eaten lunch at Hafod, she drove back to Liverpool and dropped Millie and Sylvie at home. ‘Would you like to come in for a cup of tea?’ Millie asked, feeling much in need of one.

‘No thanks,’ Valerie said. ‘The twins are beginning to get stroppy after being confined in the car for so long. Better if I get them home.’

Millie nodded. ‘Thank you both,’ she said as she kissed them goodbye. ‘You made it all bearable for me and Sylvie.’

Millie had found the inquest easier to get through than she had expected and afterwards the days began to pass quietly. She’d been in touch with Pete’s life assurance company, filled in the forms they’d sent her and complied with their requests. They’d confirmed that all was in order and they would pay out but explained that the money would be sent to his executor to be included in Pete’s estate.

His will had named his solicitor, Alec Douglas, as his executor and Millie had spoken to him two or three times about the will. He’d told her that James had questioned its validity.

‘I did suggest to Peter that he might consider putting the half share of the business in a trust fund for his sons, but he said, “I don’t need to do that. I trust Millie, she’s their mother and she’ll know how to manage things. They’re her sons too, she’ll look after them.”’

Millie could feel the tears burning her eyes again. Any mention of Pete brought back the terrible feelings of loss. She hoped after this she’d completed all the formalities associated with his death and could put them behind her. What she needed was to get used to her new life and learn to stand on her own feet. She craved peace to enable her to get on with it. When Mr Douglas rang her again and said he’d like her to come in and see him, she thought he’d completed the task.

‘No, I’m sorry, I’m a long way off that. I’ve applied for probate but I’m afraid there’s a difficulty I need to discuss with you.’

When three days later she was ushered into his office, he looked grave and she knew immediately that something was wrong.

‘I’m afraid I have some bad news for you, Mrs Maynard. I’ve been trying to collate your husband’s investments and bank account monies. You gave me a list.’ He riffled through the papers on his large desk. ‘Yes, here it is, but I’m afraid the total doesn’t amount to a great deal, probably not as much as you or he anticipated.’ His solemn eyes behind rimless glasses surveyed her face. ‘Does he have any other bank accounts or investments? Money that you’ve forgotten, that should be included in this list?’

Millie could feel herself going cold. ‘No, I don’t think so. Pete wasn’t much concerned about money. He hardly ever spoke of investments or savings.’

‘I see.’ He sighed. ‘Well, the problem is that he has left legacies to his five children totalling fifteen thousand pounds and there would seem to be insufficient monies accruing to his estate to meet that sum.’

‘What about his life insurance?’

‘Yes, I have the two thousand seven hundred sixty-nine pounds from that. It was taken out a long time ago. Yes, almost forty-six years and unfortunately the war altered the value of money out of all recognition. I also have statements of the three bank accounts.’ A sheet of paper came across the desk to her. ‘Here are the figures. You’ll see that another seven thousand three hundred pounds is needed to cover payment of the legacies.’

‘Oh dear, so the children won’t get as much?’

‘Yes, they will, but it will have to come from the residue of the estate which he has left to you.’

‘What?’ She was shocked and stared at him open-mouthed.

‘The residue includes his house, his half share of the family business and all his goods and chattels. The house, I understand, is free of mortgage.’

‘Yes.’ She’d understood that to mean she’d always have a home for herself and her children. ‘It belonged to his grandfather and it was handed down the family to Pete.’

‘I’m afraid the law requires that your husband’s wishes are carried out to the letter. What remains of his estate, the residue, cannot be calculated until that is done. In other words, in order to pay the legacies he’s gifted to his children, money will have to be raised from his estate.’