A Liverpool Legacy (12 page)

Eric had made quite a collection of broken furniture and chairs with worn upholstery on the landing. ‘I’m afraid there’s nothing here that’s worth a lot,’ he said. ‘It was not top of the range when it was new. Your grandparents, Helen love, went for machine-made furniture. But so much was lost in the air raids and so very little furniture has been made since that there’s a shortage of everything. Almost any furniture sells like hot cakes and for good prices. I’ll get a carpenter to mend these things and I’ll have the old armchairs re-upholstered. Some of them are quite elegant and well worth the trouble.’

‘Won’t that cost a lot?’ Millie asked anxiously.

‘There will be a cost, yes, but when they’re sold you’ll recoup all that. We find it pays better than selling them worn and broken.’ Eric was an auctioneer and owned a share of a company that held sales all over the north of England. ‘Don’t worry. I’ll do it through the firm.’

‘Will it take long?’ Millie wanted everything settled as soon as possible.

‘It won’t be quick,’ he admitted.

‘Then I’ll have to be patient.’

‘Dad and Grandpa thought this was just rubbish,’ Helen said. ‘It’s doing no good up here, just taking up space. You might as well get what money you can from it.’

When they started looking through the bedrooms that were no longer used, Millie was surprised and delighted to find they were unearthing articles of real value. Helen had opened the drawers of what had once been her grandmother’s dressing table.

‘Look at all this jewellery!’ Even Sylvie’s interest was captured. They began to open up the small leather cases and boxes.

‘I think your grandfather paid good prices for most of this,’ Eric said. ‘This gold Boucheron brooch is top quality.’ It was in the form of a feather, studded with diamonds, sapphires, emeralds and rubies. He took out his eyeglass to look at the hallmarks. ‘Yes, it’s eighteen carat and dated eighteen eighty-nine. Still in its original leather box too.’

‘It’s gorgeous,’ Sylvie said. They found pearl necklaces, bracelets, rings and earrings.

‘You won’t need to sell all this,’ Eric told Millie. ‘You can raise all you’re likely to need on just half a dozen or so of these items.’

‘I’d like you and Valerie to have some of it,’ Millie said. ‘It’s quite a hoard. You must choose what you like most. What about this pendant?’

Sylvie took it from her to hold up to her neck. ‘I love this.’

‘Hang on a moment,’ Eric cautioned. ‘It’s one thing to sell off some of the goods and chattels to raise money for legacies to be paid, but it’s not OK to start distributing stuff until the will is settled. It isn’t legally yours yet.’

Millie said. ‘Thank goodness you know something about wills, Eric.’

He smiled. ‘A lot of stuff comes to our salerooms following probate.’

Sylvie was putting all the jewellery back in the drawers. ‘When this is yours, Mum, I’d like to have that pendant.’

‘Then you shall,’ she said.

Eric said, ‘I think your grandparents were interested in china too. There’s a pair of Royal Doulton candlesticks here, and over there a pair of Doulton figures. Your best plan, Millie, is to let me take just enough to raise the one thousand three hundred pounds you still need to pay the legacies. Let’s pick out things you don’t want to keep, and I’ll put them in the first sale I can. I think it’ll be a week tomorrow.’

‘That would be marvellous,’ Millie said. ‘And how soon will I get the money?’

‘Just a day or two later.’

‘I rang Mr Douglas this afternoon about drawing up a deed of variation,’ Helen said, ‘and he asked me to come in to sign it next week. Val said she’d ring him tomorrow morning to do one for her, so there need be no delay.’

‘And I’ll send a van round tomorrow to pick up the stuff from the attic,’ Eric said, ‘and put that in hand. It’s no use to you and it’ll give you a bit of cash to get you started on your own.’

Millie was filled with relief; she took a deep breath. ‘I’m so grateful to all of you. It’s a real weight off my shoulders, I can tell you. You’ve sorted my financial problems.’

‘That’s what families are for,’ Eric said. ‘To help each other out of the holes we find ourselves in.’

Millie felt much better as she went to bed that night. She hadn’t expected ever again to find the sort of loving support Pete had given her, but she had. Val and Helen had the Maynard genes and she should have known they’d do their best to help her. Pete had brought them up to be like him. Never again would she feel overwhelmed by a shortage of money.

Chapter Eleven

Millie had barely settled at her desk the next morning when the internal phone buzzed. It was Marcus’s voice. ‘Where did Pete keep the keys to his desk?’ he barked. ‘I can’t get into it.’

‘Let me think. Yes, on his key ring.’

‘Well, where is that?’

‘I might have it here, I’m not sure.’ She felt for her handbag. ‘Just a minute while I look.’ She’d driven his car in this morning but had she used his keys? He’d given her a set of her own. She found two sets. ‘Yes, Marcus, I have them here.’

‘For goodness sake! How can I take over if his desk is locked up? Send them up right away with that lad that works for you.’ She heard his phone crash down.

She felt her cheeks blaze with anger all over again. Marcus was treating her like a junior employee who had made a stupid mistake. She was not going to put up with that from him. She would soon own half this business, and Marcus owned no part of it. She was a major shareholder and the only one with much experience of working in it.

She put Pete’s key ring in her pocket and got Denis to find an empty cardboard box for her. Pete’s office had been up in the turret that jutted up at one end of the roof and he’d liked it because it was quiet. She’d often climbed these stairs in the past and had to steel herself today not to think of those happier times.

Marcus had a tray of tea and biscuits on his desk and was splayed out in Pete’s chair in a position of exaggerated relaxation. ‘You’ve come yourself,’ he scowled.

‘I’d like to keep Pete’s personal possessions,’ she said icily. ‘If you’d be good enough to move out of the way, I’ll put his things together.’

‘I thought I’d done that.’ He lowered his feet to the floor and stood up. ‘I put them on top of the bookcase in case you thought they were worth keeping.’

The little heap of belongings did look pathetic but Pete had valued them. She put the photograph in a silver frame of herself with all his children, the couple of pens and one or two books into the box she’d brought. The agate clock that Valerie had given him last Christmas was still on his desk, and so were a set of cut-glass inkwells. She swept those into her box too.

She unlocked the drawers and opened them one by one to add Pete’s leather gloves, his silver propelling pencil, his desk diary, a street guide and his favourite dictionary to her box. She was conscious of Marcus watching every movement she made.

‘You can clear all those papers out,’ he told her. ‘I’ll get the cleaner to dust the drawers out.’

Millie was taking every document she saw that referred to the perfumes and dyes that they used, though she knew she probably had copies. ‘There are a few files here to do with running the business, you’ll need them,’ she said, replacing them in the drawer.

He peered down at them. ‘They look pretty scruffy, are they very old?’

‘We still have an acute shortage of stationery so we’ve had to make do. These are the current files on matters Pete handled personally. You’ll need to read them through if you’re going to do his job.’

Marcus glared at them with distaste.

‘Ah, now here is something else.’ Millie pushed it towards him. ‘A copy of last year’s accounts, including the balance sheet. I gather you haven’t seen it.’

‘I have now,’ he mumbled.

‘It’ll be well worth your while to study it. It’ll put your mind at rest and show you just how wrong you were about the current trading position. You’ll be able to give the good news to Uncle James and settle his mind too.’

He was tight-lipped and scarlet-faced. She was twisting the desk keys off the key ring. ‘Here are the keys to your desk.’

‘What about the rest of those keys. I want them too.’

‘Sorry, Marcus, this was Pete’s key ring and these are the keys to our house and car. I’m sure you’ll understand why I don’t want to give them to you.’

His colour deepened to crimson. ‘What about the office door? How do I lock that?’

Millie shrugged. ‘Why would you want to? Pete never did. He liked the staff to come in during the day and talk to him so he knew what was going on, and it has to be open at night so the cleaners can get in.’ She couldn’t stop herself adding sarcastically, ‘I know you intend to turn over a new leaf and do things differently but you’re not thinking of doing your own cleaning, are you?’

She heard his gasp of indignation as she carried her box out. Pete would say she was wasting her energy battling Marcus when she should be spending it on solving her other problems. With hindsight she knew it was a mistake to get his back up. She went back to her desk feeling drained after that spat.

James Maynard was delighted when his friend John Maddox approached him in the bar of the Connaught Club to tell him that his agency had a furnished flat coming vacant at the end of next week. ‘It’s in Woolton and one of our better flats,’ he said. ‘Ground floor, two bedrooms and in reasonable condition. It would suit your son until he finds a house where he wants to live permanently.’

‘We’ll take it,’ James said without hesitation. ‘I’ll give you a cheque for the first month’s rent.’

‘Don’t you want to see it first? I expect they’d let you in to have a quick look round tomorrow.’

‘No, it sounds fine,’ he was pleased that he’d succeeded so quickly.

He was finding Elvira difficult to live with. She spent hours in the bathroom, ran out all the hot water and the lock was always on when he wanted to use the place. She rubbed everybody up the wrong way and both Dando and Mrs Trotter had complained about her. She’d altered the atmosphere in his house and he could get no peace in his own home. James couldn’t wait to get her out.

The next morning he had his breakfast in bed as usual but instead of opening his newspaper, he put on his dressing gown and went down to the dining room to see Marcus to tell him the good news.

‘A furnished flat?’ Elvira looked up from her porridge, her face creasing with disdain. ‘We were hoping for a house, we need a bit of space.’

‘I’m told it’s one of their better flats.’ James was defensive. ‘It’s in a good area and has two bedrooms.’

‘Only two? Is there a good bathroom?’

‘I don’t know what the bathroom’s like.’ James was getting cross. ‘I haven’t seen it.’

‘You haven’t?’ Elvira was suspicious.

‘There is a bathroom, I know that. I’ve paid the first month’s rent. I had to, before somebody else stepped in. You’ll have to pay a deposit against damages as well.’

‘Good gracious,’ she said, ‘we won’t cause any damage.’

‘We’ll go and check it out this morning,’ Marcus said hurriedly.

‘Is it worth moving there if we are shortly to move somewhere better?’ Elvira asked with her nose in the air.

James could feel his anger growing. The woman was insufferable. ‘There’ll be no question of you moving on quickly,’ he said, ‘you’ll have to sign a six-month lease.’

‘Oh. Well, Redwood’s are quite hopeful about finding us a house,’ she said.

‘You’re expecting a gentleman’s residence, I presume?’ James was scathing. ‘Well, there’s absolutely no reason why you can’t wait for a house if you prefer. Nigel will need a roof over his head too.’

‘We’ll go and look at it today,’ Marcus said again, trying to save the situation.

‘I wouldn’t want to put Elvira to any trouble,’ his father said. ‘She clearly knows what she wants. My friend John Maddox thought it would be suitable for you and offered it as a favour to me, and I was trying to help, but I’m sure Nigel will be glad of it. Maddox knows all there is to know about the present housing market.’

James rushed for the stairs in a fury. The wretched woman had taken over his house, his staff and caused endless disruption. Now when he’d gone out of his way to help her and found her a place to live, she’d refused to go. A flat wasn’t good enough for her. After that, he was going to make quite sure Nigel got it and not her.

It was only when he calmed down he realised Elvira would still be living in his house if he did that.

A few days later, James was having his afternoon tea when the phone rang. He recognised Nigel’s voice. After a lot of preliminaries he said, ‘We’ve arrived in Southampton. We’ve got a hotel for the night and we’ll catch a train up to Liverpool tomorrow. I’ve made enquiries and it’ll get us to Lime Street at five o’clock.’

‘I’ll ask Marcus to come and meet you,’ he said and went back to do it.

It was only after James had poured himself another cup of tea and sat down that he noticed the black thunder on Marcus’s face. ‘He’s coming to stay here too?’

‘Yes, the flat isn’t quite ready. The cleaners will be going in tomorrow.’ There were six bedrooms in James’s house but the congestion would be in the bathroom; he hoped Clarissa would not spend as long there as Elvira.

‘And he’s going to work in the business too?’

‘I told you he was.’ Clearly Marcus had hoped Nigel would get a better offer somewhere else. ‘He’ll probably need a few days to sort himself out before he starts.’ James recollected that Marcus had always felt overshadowed by his older brother. Well, all that childish jealousy was a long way behind them now. No doubt they’d learn to get on and work together, they’d have to.

When Dando came to take away the tea tray, James asked him to prepare a room for Nigel and his wife. Dando’s eyebrows rose in silent protest.

‘They’ll only be staying for one night,’ he said. ‘I’ve found other accommodation for them.’

‘I’m glad to hear that, sir,’ he replied but James didn’t miss the reproachful look he directed at Elvira. Her lips were compressed into a hard straight line.

‘Have you heard any more from Redwood’s about your gentleman’s residence?’ James asked pointedly.

‘Not yet.’

‘You need to hurry them up, Elvira. You know as far as I’m concerned you’re welcome to stay here, but it gives Dando and Mrs Trotter more work. She’s asking if a washerwoman could come once a week.’

‘We’ll pay for that,’ Marcus choked out.

‘Wouldn’t the laundry be easier?’ Elvira asked haughtily.

It pleased James to be able to say, ‘It works out cheaper to have a washerwoman.’

At four thirty the following afternoon, Marcus stood up. ‘Are you coming with me to meet my brother, Elvira?’ he asked.

‘No,’ she said coldly. ‘I’ll say hello to him when you get him here.’ Marcus went off without another word, and Elvira returned to her book. At teatime she usually read and ignored both of them.

James was still in the sitting room when Marcus ushered Nigel and his wife in an hour later. James swept him into a hug that showed real warmth. ‘Welcome home,’ he said, and turned to study his daughter-in-law. ‘Lovely to meet you at last.’

Clarissa was slim and elegant. She smiled and kissed his cheek. He thought she had a very gracious manner; the years she’d spent at Cheltenham Ladies College had given her real polish. Nigel looked very well, he’d kept an eye on his weight, and though he was two years older than Marcus, he looked younger.

‘It’s just dinner, bed and breakfast here,’ James told them. ‘I’ve found a flat for you and today the cleaners are going in. I wasn’t sure whether the beds would be made up in time for you to sleep there. Anyway, you can go along tomorrow morning and make sure all is as you want it.’ He couldn’t resist baiting Elvira. ‘Perhaps you could go with them to give them a hand? They’ll have a lot of unpacking to do.’

Elvira rewarded him with a scowl but agreed to do it. James went on giving them details of the flat. ‘I hope you find it adequate.’

‘I’m sure we will,’ Clarissa said sweetly. ‘We’re very grateful for your help.’

When James took Nigel and Clarissa upstairs to see their bedroom, Marcus turned to his wife. ‘You stupid fool,’ he burst out. ‘You never stop complaining about living here but when Pa finds us a place you tell him it’s not good enough.’

She looked down her nose at him. ‘Do you really think you’d be happy living in a furnished flat?’

‘We’d both like it better than living here with Pa. And it would stop you finding fault with Dando and Mrs Trotter. You’re getting up everybody’s nose here, the sooner we get out the better. You’ve got all day to go round the estate agents while I’m at work. For heaven’s sake badger them and find us somewhere.’

‘Your father loves Nigel more than you,’ Elvira hissed spitefully. ‘He’s putting on a big dinner tonight to welcome him home. He did nothing like that for us.’

Marcus was very much on edge and he blamed it on having to live in his father’s house. Pa and Elvira had taken a dislike to each other and were at daggers drawn. He kept sniping at her and Elvira had a shrewish tongue and could make Pa feel acutely uncomfortable. He was making it very clear that they’d overstayed their welcome.

Redwood’s, the local estate agent, had sent them particulars of two very desirable houses that had come up for sale, but Marcus knew he couldn’t afford them. Elvira insisted they went to look over them and, once seen, she was very keen. The larger, more expensive one was for sale or rent. ‘If you can’t afford to buy, at least let us rent it,’ she said as they walked out to their car. ‘We’ve got to find somewhere else to live. Staying with your father is getting desperate.’

Ever since Elvira had chained him to a huge debt, he’d been scared of being overdrawn. It was debt that had driven him into the hands of those fraudsters because there had been no other way he could pay off a debt of that size.

‘The rent would take most of my salary,’ Marcus protested, ‘and we’ve sold off most of our furniture. It would be almost impossible to get more.’ Elvira’s extravagant ways were giving him sleepless nights and he couldn’t risk running up another debt.

‘It’s a lovely house. It’s what we’ve been waiting for,’ she insisted.

‘It’s too big. We don’t need six bedrooms and a huge garden, we can’t afford it. We need something smaller and cheaper.’

Elvira flared up. ‘It always boils down to lack of money. You’ll never earn enough to buy us a house of our own. You’re wasting your time here. Your father’s a skinflint, he pays you a pittance and we live like paupers in his house, but the real problem is that you’re a yellow-bellied coward.’

Marcus drove faster, wanting to put distance between them and that tempting house. She went on, ‘When you were earning enough to accumulate a bit of capital, you got so frightened you gave it up.’