Finders and Keepers (55 page)

‘I'd like to order twenty.'

‘There's no need to do that, Harry. Books illustrated by Frank always sell,' Toby took another sandwich.

Harry turned and faced him. ‘Bella's in it. Six will make great birthday presents for my brothers and sisters next year. Then there's one for me, one for my parents, two for my uncles and aunts, and nine for my cousins who will fight if I don't give them one each.'

Toby did a quick calculation. ‘That's nineteen.'

‘And one for the Ellises. They'd like to see their Arthurian lake. And it may encourage Martha and Matthew to persevere with their reading.'

‘They won't allow them to keep it in the workhouse.'

‘I know, and that's just one more reason why I have to get them out.'

Toby allowed Harry's comment to pass – for the moment. ‘Frank left some papers besides his will, which, incidentally, left everything to me. Doctor Adams confiscated the originals in case they harboured germs, so I couldn't take them out of the sanatorium, but Frank planned his funeral down to the last detail. Unbeknown to me, he'd asked to see the local vicar, bought a plot in the churchyard in the valley and asked him to conduct a funeral within twenty-four hours of his death. Said he didn't want to leave me hanging about in the back end of beyond. The only mourners were myself, Doctor Adams, the beautiful Diana, who left for London an hour afterwards, the nurses who weren't on duty and Mrs Edwards and Alf. Frank made me write to the publishers months ago when he was first diagnosed. He said he had no objection to a memorial service, provided it was a happy occasion that would coincide with the publication of the book. And that is exactly what they are arranging, a memorial service followed by a party at the Ritz. Perhaps they should rename the book
Le Morte de Frank Ross.'

‘I'll come to the memorial service and party with you, if I may.'

‘I was hoping you would.' He dared to add, ‘And Bella in her best party frock – chaperoned by your parents, of course. You've seen me at my worst, Harry. Usually I'm happy-go-lucky, and I have lots of friends to prove it. But when Frank was taken ill, they sort of melted away. I have no doubt that when I go back to London they will materialize again but …' Toby fell silent.

‘The Swansea Valley is a difficult place to get to,' Harry consoled clumsily.

‘It has a railway, so don't go making excuses for them. I feel I've grown close to you and I hope we will remain friends – and before you say anything, that's not just because of Bella. I know it's partly because we've suffered the same experience, watching people we love inch towards death, trying to fight a disease that had already won the battle. But it's not all we have in common. Those evenings we spent together in the pub kept me sane. Those talks about life, love, art-'

‘And the drinking.'

‘That too.' Toby smiled.

‘I hope we remain good friends for the rest of our lives.' Harry waved to a young maid who had carried a tray of drinks and cakes from the house and was standing looking around the garden.

She walked towards them. ‘From Mari, Mr Harry.'

‘Thank her for me, Ruby.' Harry took the tray from her. ‘I won't tell anyone if you return to the house the long way round.'

‘The long way, sir?'

‘Walk around the garden three times, then go in through the kitchen door.'

‘I couldn't do that, sir, not with the number of people waiting to be served,' she giggled, and ran back inside the house.

‘Four glasses of wine.' Toby took one. ‘And perfectly chilled too.'

‘Mari's not only an expert housekeeper, she knows me better than I know myself.' Harry sipped his wine. ‘When are you leaving Wales?'

‘The inn, a week Monday. I have already given Mrs Edwards notice. I need to sort out Frank's headstone and make arrangements for the grave to be maintained before I move on.'

‘To where?'

‘I don't know, not yet. Did I mention that the publishers sent me a letter with the proof illustrations?' Toby murmured diffidently. ‘They've offered me a commission, in my own name.'

‘You know damn well you didn't mention it. Congratulations!' Harry set his wine glass on the bench and shook Toby's hand enthusiastically. ‘I told you, you're brilliant. You deserve it after the work you put in on the
Morte.
Is it an entire book?'

‘Yes.'

‘How many illustrations?'

‘Fifteen colour plates, eight black and white.' A note of pride crept into Toby's voice.

‘Do I have to drag the name out of you?'

‘Aesop's Fables,
so I'll be looking at animals. The hare, the tortoise, the fox, the crow, the lion … perhaps I ought to consider moving next door to a zoo.'

‘Are you serious?'

‘I must admit the idea doesn't appeal. But a zoo couldn't be a worse neighbour than some of the others Frank and I have had over the years.'

‘You said you had no settled home.'

‘Not since my parents drowned. Frank rented a studio in Paris but he sold the lease when he was diagnosed with TB. He owns – owned,' Toby corrected himself sharply, ‘a house in Chelsea. I suppose it's mine now, but it's never been home, not in the true sense of the word, like this place.' Toby looked wistfully at the villa. ‘It was just a base he used whenever he exhibited in London. After my parents died, I joined Frank every school holiday, but we lived like nomads, wandering from one rented house to another. Most were in Cornwall because he liked the sea. The closest I have to a home are the boxes in storage in Frank's attic. What about you? Will you live here now with your family?' He deliberately switched the conversation away from himself.

Harry looked over the garden wall to the house next door. The roof was finished and, as far as he could see, the windows were too. ‘The trustees of my estate have bought that house for me.'

‘Trustees – don't tell you me that you are heir to a fortune?' Toby laughed.

‘I will inherit some businesses when I'm thirty,' Harry divulged, reluctant as ever to talk about his wealth.

‘And there's me wondering if you were going to touch up your father when you offered to pay the Ellises' debts.' Toby surveyed the house. ‘Very solid, middle-class and respectable – and I mean that in the nicest possible way. I have had enough of the bohemian existence. When are you moving in?'

‘I don't know. What I do know is that I need to return to the Swansea Valley to clear my room, pick up my car and settle a few things. Are you going back up there today?' Harry asked.

‘I checked the timetables. There's a train that leaves Pontypridd station at six that will get me into Penwyllt just after nine. If you don't mind me using your telephone I thought I'd call Mrs Edwards from here and ask her to keep me a meal.'

‘I have arranged to see my solicitor when everyone's gone, so I won't be able to go to the Swansea Valley until tomorrow. Don't suppose you fancy staying the night? There's a decent guestroom.'

‘I haven't even brought a razor.'

‘I can lend you whatever you need,' Harry offered.

‘In that case, yes. This meeting with your solicitor isn't anything to do with the Ellises by any chance, is it?' Toby asked cautiously.

‘And if it is?' Harry challenged.

‘Harry, be reasonable. I thought your father performed miracles to get you out of that scrape. You could have knocked me down with a feather when I telephoned here on Sunday and Bella said that vicious agent had dropped the charges against you.'

‘I didn't know you spoke to Bella on Sunday.'

‘I was worried about you,' Toby said guiltily. ‘I didn't know whether to rush up to Brecon to see if I could do something to help, or if I'd only make things worse. But if I'd gone, I would have taken the train. Given the trouble I had getting your car back to the inn I certainly couldn't have driven there.'

‘I never thought to ask, can you drive?'

‘I can now.' Toby exchanged his empty glass of wine for a full one.

‘And my car?' Harry's voice heightened in concern.

‘Only has a couple of dents, but Alf's done his best to knock them out and it doesn't look half bad.'

‘Toby, is this one of your jokes?'

‘It could be, but on the other hand, I did say that Alf has done the best he could,' Toby replied maddeningly.

‘That will teach me to get arrested at a moment's notice.'

‘All the more reason not to go back to the Swansea Valley. I can pack your things and send them on.'

‘I'd rather pack them myself into my dented car, if you don't mind.'

‘Alf would drive it here for you if you asked him.'

‘No.' Harry finished his second glass of wine, collected the plates and glasses, and stacked them on the tray. ‘There are a few things you don't know about me and the agent, Toby. I'll fill you in on the way back tomorrow. Thank the Lord, people are finally beginning to leave,' he said in relief, when he saw guests walking down the drive. He gave Toby a sideways glance. ‘I suppose I could find Bella for you. But no talking to her unless all my other sisters are present or you'll incur my father's wrath, and, believe me, that is not something you want to do, whether you are serious about wanting to court Bella or not.'

*……*……*

Although some people made a point of paying their respects and then leaving Lloyd's house, those who knew Billy Evans well lingered, wanting to remain with his family and talk about him. Some stayed so long Harry began to wonder if they had homes to go to. His parents had invited Lloyd's brothers and their families as well as Mr Richards, Father Kelly, Betty Morgan and Billy's closest friends to dine with them that evening, which meant that Harry didn't have a chance to talk to Mr Richards about the Ellis children until almost ten o'clock.

Victor took Father Kelly, Megan and the boys back to the Rhondda in his truck, the children riding in the back, which they loved, especially at night. Joey drove Rhian and his family the short distance to his home soon afterwards. To Harry's surprise, Betty Morgan was spending the night and, after dinner, she and Mari disappeared to the housekeeper's room with a bottle of Mari's favourite sherry to toast Billy's memory.

As a special concession, Sali had allowed all the girls to stay up, even Edyth, who was pale and subdued, and nine-year-old Susie, who was sleeping on her feet. Bella commandeered Toby to play cards with them in the library.

Ruby made coffee and carried it to Lloyd's study, and Harry and Mr Richards retreated there as soon as they had waved Joey and Victor off.

‘Join us?' Harry asked Sali and Lloyd when they closed the front door and walked down the hall.

‘You sure you want us to?' Lloyd looked round the door.

‘After what happened to me on Saturday, most definitely. I know that Mr Richards has been trying to work out ways for me to help the Ellis family and, given the problems he's come up against, I need all the advice I can get.'

‘Put like that, how can we refuse?' Lloyd pulled up a chair next to Harry. Sali fetched two extra cups from the dining room and set them on the coffee tray. Mr Richards took a notebook from his pocket, opened it and, with his customary businesslike approach, went straight to the point.

‘As a single man you won't be allowed to remove the younger children from the children's section of the workhouse, Harry. And, after being labelled a “moral degenerate”, it may prove impossible for anyone to sign Mary Ellis out. But let's concentrate on the younger children first. If you were married you wouldn't have a problem either in adopting them or taking them into your home as prospective servants.'

If Harry hadn't known Mr Richards better he would have thought he was joking, but much as he respected and loved the old man, in all the years he had known him he had never seen him exhibit a trace of humour. ‘As I'm not about to rush up the aisle, I'll have to advertise for a respectable married couple to look after them. But I know the Ellises. They'd hate to admit that they can't look after themselves. And they can. They proved it every day between their mother's death and their eviction.'

Mr Richards glanced down at his book. ‘The workhouse rules are simple and never waived. No child may be taken out except by a respectable married couple,' he glanced up at Harry, ‘spinster or widow.'

‘There is a highly respectable widow without a position staying the night in this house,' Sali reminded Harry.

‘Of course! Betty Morgan. Why didn't I think of her?' Harry said excitedly. ‘Have you asked her?'

‘Your mother and I did discuss the idea, but decided against broaching the subject with her until after we had spoken to you, Harry. Finding someone to take the children out of the workhouse is just one of many obstacles,' Mr Richards warned. ‘I have approached each of the trustees in turn and after talking to them, have taken it upon myself as your solicitor to call an emergency board meeting for nine o'clock tomorrow morning. You need their permission to set aside sufficient money from your trust fund to care for the family. And I warn you, there is no way that they will vote to allow the Ellis children to return to the Ellis Estate.'

‘But the house and the farm are theirs, by right,' Harry protested. ‘They have paid for it ten times over. Morally -'

‘It's what I said to you last Sunday. The trustees are only concerned with preserving your inheritance until your thirtieth birthday. The Ellis Estate is a large and valuable one. Managed correctly, it could prove extremely lucrative.'

‘Then I'll find a farm manager that the trustees will approve of, and he can live there with the Ellises.'

‘Any manager worth having would want to live in the house with his family, and he would resent the presence of a family of pauper children. Particularly if they regarded themselves as the rightful tenants.'