Cherry Tree Lane (22 page)

The curate’s wife made no effort to leave, continuing to berate them at the top of her voice. But Mattie neither flinched nor did as she was told, and Jacob stood beside her as solid as a rock, his eyes watchful.

When the other woman ran out of steam, Mattie looked at her husband. ‘Will you please show Mrs Henty out, Jacob? And if she won’t go, then she’ll need helping on her way.’

He took a step towards Mrs Henty, who hesitated.

When he took another step and raised his hand to take hold of her arm, she took a hasty step backwards. ‘You’ll be sorry for this! I’m quite sure Miss Newington didn’t mean you to keep me out!’

‘I said your name to her, so she did mean it. And I’m never sorry for doing what’s right,’ Mattie declared. ‘Jacob?’

‘I’ll be back with someone in authority,’ Mrs Henty threatened.

‘Doesn’t matter. Miss Newington is still in charge here, and what she says goes.’

Only when the front door had slammed behind the curate’s wife did Mattie sag against the bedroom door as reaction set in. Then she remembered the sick woman inside and hurried back to the bedside, suddenly afraid she’d gone too far. What if that loud encounter had so upset Miss Newington that she’d had another seizure?

But as Mattie approached the bed, she saw that the other woman was smiling at her, crooked mouth and all.

‘Well done!’ the invalid said and let out the faint husk of a chuckle.

Frank Longley was worried about this visit to his client, because Arthur Newington had a lot of power in the district. Why, he might claim that the young lawyer was too inexperienced and had misinterpreted Miss Newington’s wishes. Frank had been told to his face that he was too inexperienced when he set up his rooms – several people had said that – and been advised to continue working for an older lawyer till he learnt his business.

He’d already worked for a few years in London and saved hard, so he knew he was ready. He’d come back to the town where he’d been born to set up his own practice, determined to work in a more modern way, helping ordinary people, trying to see that justice was done, not merely supporting the rich. Times were changing and he believed the way the law was applied should change with them.

But he still needed to protect himself and his client from those who wielded power, so he walked down the street to the nearby public telephone box to call his friend, who lived in Wootton Bassett. Sam Painton worked in his family law practice there. They had a private telephone in the rooms and Sam owned a motor car. It was only a small Riley, but it was his pride and joy, with three-speed transmission and wire-spoked wheels. Sam had been known to clean these lovingly with his carefully ironed pocket handkerchief, to his mother’s intense annoyance.

If Sam would drive him out to Shallerton Bassett, Frank knew his friend would make an impeccable witness, and by using the car he could get there and back tonight.

He slipped a coin into the slot in the door of the telephone box to gain access to the phone itself, picked up the handpiece, bent down to be near the fixed mouthpiece on the wooden wall panel, which wasn’t designed for tall people like himself, and asked to be connected to Mr Painton’s rooms.

When he was better established, he intended to have a telephone installed in his rooms, too, but couldn’t yet afford the expense.

To his relief, Sam was there and agreed to come with him. The little Riley got them to the turn-off for Shallerton Bassett very quickly, then putt-putted its way up the bumpy lane, going more and more slowly. At one stage it seemed as if the engine was going to fail, then the car seemed to summon up just enough momentum to crest the rise and find its way to the front door.

Jacob Kemble opened it before they could knock. ‘How did you know to come here?’

‘Your letter reached me by second post today.’

‘Thank goodness for that!’

Frank watched in amazement as he locked the door behind them. ‘Is Miss Newington so nervous she must have her doors locked all the time?’

‘She is since her cousin tried to force her to leave with him,’ Jacob said bluntly.

‘Force her?’

‘Yes.’

‘Why would he do that?’

‘He wanted her to sign some papers, apparently.’

‘You’re sure of this?’

‘I was there and helped prevent it. There’s nothing wrong with my eyesight, or my hearing either. I heard what he said.’

Sam let out a low whistle of surprise, which reminded Frank of his manners. ‘Ah, this is my colleague, Mr Painton, who has kindly brought me here in his motor car. This is Jacob Kemble, Sam, who collects Miss Newington’s rents for her.’

The two men shook hands, then Jacob gestured to the stairs. ‘Would you like to go up? It’s on the second floor. I’m sure Miss Newington will be delighted to see you.’

‘How is she?’

‘She’s regained consciousness and seems in full possession of her senses. The doctor says if she doesn’t have a second seizure, she’ll probably make a good recovery. But she’s very anxious not to let her cousin Arthur take over while she’s ill, which I think is why she wants to see you.’

‘Ah. Who’s looking after her?’

‘My wife and I, with the maid’s help. Although the servants are very loyal, they aren’t capable of standing up against Mr Arthur, so the doctor suggested my wife and I move in temporarily.’

‘The doctor suggested it?’

‘Yes. And we’re glad to help, since the poor lady has no one else.’

‘She’s not paying you to do this?’

Jacob looked affronted. ‘I don’t need paying to help a neighbour.’

‘Very commendable. Could you take us up to her, please?’

‘She gets tired easily. Perhaps your friend could wait down here?’

‘Considering the power of Arthur Newington, it’d be better if Mr Painton stays with me and witnesses what she says.’

‘Ah. I see.’ Jacob hesitated, then added, ‘I’ve been obliged to hire young men from the village to stay here too, just in case there’s any more violence.’

‘The police haven’t found the people who broke in?’

‘No, sir. I don’t think they’ve tried very hard, but we all have a fair idea of who’s behind it.’

‘Hmm. Well, it won’t hurt to have the men here, I’m sure.’

As they followed Kemble up the stairs, Sam whispered to him, ‘I can’t believe such precautions are necessary in this day and age. Are you sure this man isn’t exaggerating?’

‘Once you’re out in the countryside, you don’t have the police to hand, or even neighbours in a place like this,’ Frank said. ‘And besides … I don’t know whether you’ve ever met Arthur Newington?’

‘Yes. He’s an acquaintance of my parents. I don’t know him well, but he’s a gentleman and surely he’d not descend to that sort of thuggish behaviour?’

‘Who else could be behind it? He was very angry about not inheriting the house.’

‘Yes. I’ve heard him talk about that to my parents.’

‘As long as these young men from the village give my client peace of mind, it costs her very little. And if there is something in the story, well, once again we’ll have witnesses to hand.’

‘Can’t beat that.’

The bedroom was large, with a window slightly open to let in the fresh air. Miss Newington looked frail, her face almost as pale as the pillows against which she was propped up. It took only a quick glance round the tidy room for Frank to see that she was being well cared for.

Mattie bent over the bed and said quietly, ‘Mr Longley’s here to see you, Miss Newington.’

The old lady opened her eyes and to Frank’s relief, the same intelligence shone in them, even though one side of her face was drooping a little. When she spoke, her speech was slurred, but he had no problem understanding her.

‘Good. Leave us … Mattie.’

Mrs Kemble nodded to Frank. ‘I’ll be in the kitchen. You’ve only to ring that bell if you want me, sir.’

When she left, Sam escorted her to the door, keeping it slightly open for a moment or two, then shutting it and mouthing, ‘She’s gone.’

Frank agreed with this caution. You couldn’t be too careful when dealing with elderly clients who could be taken advantage of. He sat down next to the bed. ‘How can I help you, my dear lady?’

‘The will.’

‘You want to change it. I can write a temporary one quite quickly and—’

‘No. Want it … to stand … as it is.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes.’

‘Does anyone else know how you’ve left things?’

‘No. Only you.’

He didn’t like this, but had to respect her wishes. ‘What did you want to see me about, then?’

‘Want Jacob Kemble … to have power … to look after me … if …’ Her voice tailed away and she closed her eyes for a moment.

‘If you’re incapacitated,’ Frank finished for her.

‘Yes.’

‘You trust him that much?’

‘Yes. Good man. But make it him … and you together.’

‘Good idea. Though we’ll hope it isn’t necessary and that you make a full recovery. I can easily sort out the paperwork for that. Sam, will you go down and make out a deposition? I’m sure Kemble will show you where to find paper and a pen.’

Emily’s fingers plucked at Frank’s hand. He turned to her and called, ‘Wait!’

Sam stopped by the door.

‘Say … not my cousin,’ she said. ‘Not Arthur.’

Just to be certain, Frank repeated, ‘You want the deposition to say your cousin Arthur is not to look after you if you’re incapacitated, and Kemble and I are?’

‘Yes.’

‘Very well.’

When Sam had left, Frank waited quietly until his client opened her eyes again. She seemed very tired, as if every word was an effort. ‘Are they looking after you properly, Miss Newington?’

She nodded. ‘Very well. Very kind.’

It was a while before Sam returned. She dozed, leaving Frank to his thoughts. It was a strange business, and he could see big trouble ahead if she died, especially when the beneficiary was revealed. But … it was what she wanted and she was definitely in her right mind, which was the only ground on which the will could be contested.

Sam returned, bringing Cook with him. ‘Witness,’ he said at Frank’s questioning look. He held out a piece of paper.

Frank scanned it quickly and nodded approval, then turned to Miss Newington. ‘I shall read this to you before you sign it.’ He did so, then at her nod, took the fountain pen his friend was holding out and placed the paper against a book, so that she could sign it. What a good thing it was her left side that was affected by the seizure! Even so, the handwriting was shaky.

He beckoned to Cook. ‘You must sign here to say your mistress understood what this paper contains and that she signed it of her own free will.’

‘Yes, sir.’ She traced out a round, childish signature and stepped back.

‘Now my colleague must also sign it in your presence.’

‘I understand, sir. I’ve witnessed other people’s wills, and it’s the same sort of thing, isn’t it?’

‘Yes.’

When she’d gone, he turned to Miss Newington. ‘It’s all finished and been done properly.’

‘Thank … goodness.’

‘Did Arthur Newington really try to force you to go with him?’

‘Yes. Him and Robins. Kemble stopped them.’

They looked at one another and shook their heads in amazement, then Frank rang the bell.

When Mattie came, they left Miss Newington to rest, with the young woman keeping watch.

‘I’d not have believed this if I hadn’t seen and heard it with my own ears,’ Sam muttered as they walked down the stairs. ‘Good thing there are two of us, eh? There’ll be all hell to pay when it comes out that her cousin’s to be kept away.’ He stopped. ‘I take it she hasn’t left her property to her family?’

‘No.’

Sam let out a long, low whistle.

Downstairs, Lyddie came forward to say, ‘We’ve put some tea and scones in the small sitting room, Mr Longley. Cook thought you might be hungry.’

‘Thank you.’ Frank pulled out his pocket watch. ‘Might as well have a quick bite before we leave. I must admit I’m getting peckish and I’ll not be home till well past dinner time.’ He turned to the maid. ‘Could you ask Mr and Mrs Kemble to join us, please? We need to have a word with them. Perhaps you could sit with Miss Newington in the meantime?’

Half an hour later the two lawyers were on their way.

Jacob spoke to Ben and the other young men from the village, sending them out with old Horace, who was to show them round the outbuildings and rear gardens – not that they hadn’t seen it all before, because most lads from the village had scrumped apples from the big house, or gone up there for a dare. But you couldn’t admit that.

Luke hovered nearby and Jacob left his son with Ben, with strict instructions not to get in the way. The lad was bored already here, not used to being on his best behaviour for so long, and full of energy after a day shut up in school. Ben winked at Jacob and told Luke to stay with him.

Sarah was in her element, helping Cook and then helping Lyddie to set the kitchen table for a high tea.

As he was going back into the house, Jacob heard another motor car coming up the hill. He went to peer out of the front window, sighing when he saw that it was Arthur Newington. How had the man heard the news so quickly? He wished the two lawyers were still there and hoped he could deal with this.

He heard footsteps behind him and turned to see Ben in the doorway.

‘Thought you might need some help, Jacob lad.’

‘I might. I’ll try to send him away. Where’s Luke?’

‘Safe in the kitchen. Back door’s locked.’

There was a hammering on the front door. As Jacob went to answer it, Mattie called his name and ran lightly down the stairs.

‘Miss Newington says if it’s her cousin, you can show him up to see her, but anyone else is to stay outside. And you and I are to stay with her while he’s there.’

‘All right. You go back up.’ He waited until she’d reached the landing before opening the door.

Arthur Newington stood there, with his driver behind him. ‘I’ve come to see my cousin. I hear she’s had a seizure.’

Jacob didn’t move. ‘Yes, sir.’