The Twisted Way (42 page)

‘Thank you so much,’ she said. That will be a great help,’ and meant it. She was going to provide the tea herself but it was a relief to have the work done for her.

It should not be too much of a disaster, Felicity thought when Lily arrived to make preparations just before the will reading. A whiff of light floral perfume assailed her nostrils. Hmm … lovely scent she thought. She looked at Lily again. The girl’s spots had gone leaving a fair flawless skin. Her hair, tinted a deeper shade of blonde than Felicity remembered, was twisted with skill into a neat knot on the top of her head. Her make-up was light and unobtrusive with lips outlined in pale pink lipstick and eyebrows plucked and neatly etched with a dark brown pencil. She wore a plain black dress, suitable for the occasion, and had tied a neat little lace apron around her waist that emphasized her stunning figure. She had expected the girl to rebel once she had left home after years of repression by a domineering father. Felicity was impressed to see that the refreshments, small cakes and homemade biscuits, were displayed in an attractive manner and there was a choice of teas.

Felicity was amused. Lily was no fool and without doubt not the gormless creature she had once dubbed her. She had acted as the meek little vicar’s daughter; a good performance Felicity now appreciated, and was today acting the part of the efficient caterer, which indeed she was, and making an excellent job of that role. She would be successful in the business world. Lily’s large blue eyes sheltered under lashes that were carefully groomed and lengthened and, as in the past, gave very little information away about their wily owner.

Felicity was anxious to know what Robbie’s will contained but she was nowhere as concerned as she had been when Janet had died. She did not expect much. Her hands felt sweaty and she was aching in unexpected places with sheer exhaustion. She would be glad when the day had come to an end though then she would have to think what she was going to do in the future. She wondered in a vague way if Marianne still had a spare room but she didn’t think so.

The beneficiaries of the will were soon seated in anticipation in Robbie’s lounge. Julie Barker was one of the first to arrive and Felicity gave her a scathing look. Still here, she must be getting something, she thought. A young anxious woman arrived a few minutes later and sat next to her. Who on earth is that scruffy creature? Felicity wondered. A skinny woman with large wild anxious eyes, tangled blonde hair and jeans that emitted a strong smell of dogs, ugh! Joyce Skillet too, well that was to be expected, and John Elk. The vicar ... ‘Huh, I hope he doesn’t get much for that church, some of those repairs he has in mind would be a waste of money,’ she muttered to herself. Mr Wilkins and his assistant arrived and sat on slim ladder-backed chairs next to the small antique mahogany table Felicity had placed ready for them, and spread out their papers with care. Lily had covered the refreshments, which were set out on a table in one corner of the room, with an elegant white embroidered cloth. The old grandfather clock that Robbie had loved and had pride of place in a corner of the lounge struck a resounding chime for half past the hour as a feeling of anticipation filled the room.

Mr Wilkins cleared his throat. A hush descended as he outlined the will. There were several small bequests: £5000 to Joyce Skillet, which produced a gasp of surprise from her, £3000 to the church fund for new bells, which prompted Felicity to emit an irritable cough and Lily to fetch her a glass of water, holding up the proceedings for a few minutes. Mr Wilkins then continued, ‘£2000 to Enderly Bridge Club to buy new equipment and £2000 for his good friends Patsy and John Elk to be used in any way they wish for their new baby.’ Felicity smiled. Pity he had not left the £3000 to John and Patsy as well as the £2000. She did not like clanging church bells. They were noisy things. ‘£10,000 to Julie Barker provided she has not remarried.’ Robbie guessed she would not. She was promiscuous and enjoyed her freedom too much to be tied down by a further marriage or a family. She had deserted Robbie for another man a few months after their marriage and he had as a result divorced her. There was no money available to give her at that time and in any case he had then felt that she did not deserve any. However, he indicated in his will that he realised in recent years that they had married when they were both far too young to know what they wanted and a small legacy might be of use in her old age. This had been added to his will during a weak moment of conscience. He considered that he owed her that much because he later understood that he was a confirmed bachelor at heart and should not have married the wretched woman in the first place. The money left to Julie Barker was what she thought of as ‘a godsend’ but she was too proud and arrogant to admit to anyone how much she needed it, as Robbie had known she would be. She sank back into one of Robbie’s armchairs with a triumphant smirk upon her face. Felicity looked at her with disdain and thought that a good slap would not be amiss and far more appropriate than £10,000. What a dreadful woman. I’m not surprised she didn’t get married again, she thought, I can’t imagine anyone wanting to live with that arrogant tart.

Robbie had arranged to make the cottage available for Felicity Brown to live in for as long as she wished. He had also altered his will to leave her a portion of his numerous investments, to be managed by his financial adviser, which would yield £20,000 a year, also only for as long as she lived. If she died the investments and cottage would revert to the main beneficiary, the Collie Rescue Centre in Everton. The remainder, indeed the bulk of his numerous investments, he had left to them and that amounted to approximately three million pounds. He had obtained his dog Nap from this Centre when he had first moved to Enderly from Oxford and he admired the work that was done there and had, Mr Wilkins explained, until Felicity had proved to be a good companion during the last couple of years, willed the whole of his estate to the Centre. Their representative Miss Eleanor Evans, the thin blonde who reeked of dogs, was startled then beamed widely. She had not expected more than a small donation to the rescue centre.

‘We will discuss the details later Miss Evans,’ the solicitor said. All heads turned to look at the unkempt young woman.

Felicity was astounded. She was at first oddly subdued then a feeling of elation caught up with her. Bother Miss Evans. She could stay in the cottage she had come to love. There would be no Robbie to keep her company but she understood that many of his books and paintings would remain in place, together with the furnishings, for as long as she lived there and would remind her of him. It would be as though, in some ways, he was still there with her. She would look after it all for him as he wished. That would be her mission for the rest of her life. He requested that the books should go to one of his Oxford University colleagues when Felicity no longer wished to live in the cottage and the paintings and other furnishings would then be sold, together with the cottage.

Robbie had guessed with his usual fine insight that Felicity would continue to read and benefit from his vast collection of books, as she had been doing for the past two years. It had taken him a long time, and a fair amount of study, to understand Felicity’s difficulties. He had been gratified that he may have helped a difficult and disturbed individual to come to terms with her inner demons and develop into a more relaxed and balanced person. Although he was not a professional trained to assist hyperactive people he did believe he had come to understand her. From his reading he had concluded that a little ADD could be observed in many people. Indeed, he could see some of it in himself and that had prompted him, together with Alistair Anderson’s remarks, to sympathise with his troubled guest. He realized that many people would dismiss the whole idea of ADD as pure fantasy but his experience with Felicity had prompted him to consider it seriously. After a while Felicity had been able to enjoy books without tossing them to one side when only halfway through reading them, and make friends with greater ease. She had shown him genuine affection which she had been incapable of when he first met her. The fact that she was a good bridge player and cook had astonished him. He had discovered that she was a complex individual, full of interest and never dull.

When the other beneficiaries had left Felicity went into the garden and sat by the pond watching the goldfish, their golden scales glinting and flashing in the early evening sunlight as they darted and flitted near the surface of the water. Dear Robbie, she thought, how you loved those fish. I will feed them and look after them for you. She sprinkled some food over the surface and leaned back in one of the new plush garden chairs she had urged Robbie to buy. He had been more generous than she had imagined possible. Tears formed in the corner of her eyes and trickled slowly down her face. She pondered further over his will. She had walked a long and twisted path to get to this stage in her life. She realized with a new and unexpected insight that she was a turbulent and difficult woman and had been lucky to find some peace, security and, what was more important, the understanding of a kind and generous man, which was more than she deserved. This had helped her to achieve some inner peace. She had lived with an internal restlessness for most of her life, something that could only be soothed by challenges. Her obsession with Aunt Janet’s money and even competitive bridge provided some outlet for the head of steam that often built up within her. Her mind would become focused on one thing, one goal, at one time and she had not been above violating normal rules of behaviour if that suited her. She now felt a twinge of conscience when she thought about some aspects of her stormy past. Robbie’s friendship had boosted her once fragile self-esteem.

She smiled to herself as she cogitated and with genuine tenderness felt the small silver cross on its slender chain that encircled her neck, a family heirloom she understood, and given to her some months before by Robbie.

‘Take care of it for me,’ he had said. ‘It once belonged to my mother and her mother before that.’

He had put it around her neck for her and done up the clasp with trembling fingers.

‘I will cherish it,’ she said with genuine feeling, and she did. She wore it every day. It was her most prized possession.

She did, however, continue to ponder on Robbie’s will. I wonder what that Collie Rescue Centre will do with all that money? she thought. Do they really need it? Robbie was the most generous and sweet man but that legacy did not make sense, at least not to her. She was convinced that there must be a better way to employ his capital than housing and feeding a few mangy dogs. She doubted whether there was anything that could be done to reverse that part of his will, in any case that was what the dear man wanted, but it was a very interesting thought, after all she had become his partner during the last part of his life; surely she was more important. He had come to care enough for her to see that she was provided for. Well ... she would perhaps explore the possibilities. In any case she could, in her usual way, dream about it. She guessed that Robbie knew she would. She laughed out loud. She realized too that towards the end of his life he had accepted her for the person she was and given her true understanding and she appreciated that there is no act between two human beings that requires greater skill.

The only things that she had been able to concentrate on in the past were typing, cooking and bridge. Organizing her life had always been difficult; many activities left her irritated and bored but thanks to Robbie she was now managing well. He was the first person during the whole of her life who had been able to help her and she was grateful. The sad little evacuee Tom Hands and the unwanted and misunderstood Felicity Brown, once they had overcome their initial dislike and suspicions, had ultimately formed a mutually beneficial partnership, the composition of which very few of their friends and acquaintances would ever comprehend.

Felicity discovered that she could relax at last. She would miss Robbie with a depth of feeling she had not known was possible but knew she had good times to look forward to and intended to make the most of the comfort Robbie had bestowed upon her. She no longer looked young; her tapir nose appeared more pronounced than it ever had but she was not too concerned about that. Romance was no longer on her agenda. She had looked that day in the mirror in her bedroom at the strong streaks of grey that cloaked her hair, which were becoming more difficult to cover for any length of time with colour rinses; the crows feet at the corners of her eyes stood out like fine bunches of grape stalks whilst her thinning mouth had become streaky and crinkled but her once greedy and hard-looking blue eyes had softened. Her face had become what could be described by many people as appealing.

A few months later a retired widower by the name of Jack Headley purchased the small cottage next door to Felicity. She heard that he had been living near his sister in Scotland for the past few years but was a native of Russetshire. She heard too that he had lived in Little Brinton for a while and was the first chairman of the Little Brinton Bridge Club but had left the area under a cloud after being wrongly convicted of murder. She understood that nobody expected him to return to Russetshire and his return was the subject of some gossip in the local bridge clubs. A few weeks after he moved in Jack asked Felicity to play with him in the Enderly club. She hesitated for a while before accepting. She was aware that he liked her and was curious to find out more about him. She wondered what his plans were. He would never take Robbie’s place as a friend but might be a useful bridge partner and some masculine company if she needed it. Well … he was not bad looking, rather conceited and not her type; she was far too old for him anyway. She was intrigued. There must be a strong reason for his return to Russetshire after the murder scandal even if he was an innocent victim. She had heard a rumour that the real culprit, Jack Headley’s brother-in-law George Berry, had been arrested and was to stand trial for that murder and other heinous crimes in South Africa. She surmised that Jack must think that he was now free of any suspicions in the minds of the locals in Little Brinton and that thought had provided him with the courage he needed to return to the area. Knowing the locals as she did, Felicity considered him to be foolish but it would be interesting to find out how much money, if any, he had tucked away. That was, of course, purely academic. She laughed and her spirits lifted as a plan began to form in her mind and her fertile imagination, as so often in the past, took flight. It was good to have something like that to think about again.