150: A month in the country

As usual I was feeling hard pressed to do all that needed to be done before we left for our annual summer vacation, or ‘working holiday’ as Charlie prefers to call it.

I was catching up with a recent tv report on the Abbey station, their hook being that in the act of digging up the carpark, to reinstate platform four, we’d discovered the original dressed stones which had once made up the then higher wall around the town side of the property. In truth of course the rail enthusiasts had long suspected the stones were there and anticipated the need to raise the wall again to reduce noise levels with the return of steam, help obscure the view from the public park opposite and generally better secure the site. Still, the news report amply served our purpose, deflecting as it did attention away from complaining car lovers who nonetheless liked to regularly commute to the capital by train. Then I was interrupted with; ‘A postal communication from the Palace of Westminster, sir!’

‘Good lord!’

‘Indeed, the House of Lords, sir.’

I hastily opened and attended to the letter in question; ‘Blah, blah, blah, oh my lord, Frimley what are you getting into? We’d better go. I’ll explain in the car.’

‘Well, on the face of it, it’s just the noble lord sending me a flyer for the three-day annual meeting of his Constitution Group at the Park. Book now to avoid disappointment, as it were.’

‘But you never do attend.’

‘Precisely. However, it also contains a schedule of the highlights on offer, including a debate on “Civil Service Non-compliance” to be led by one Buffy Trumpton.’

‘I’d hoped we’d seen the last of him.’

‘Quite. Another session on the “repeal and restore thesis”, whatever that is, led by some historian and one on the adoption of the “Flotterton Manifesto” led by Lord Bittadon.’

‘I thought you said Rory was writing a thriller, and he doesn’t like Buffy any more than we do.’

‘Hence Frimley’s covering note, I quote; “My dear fellow I feel I must warn you that the speech you inspired in the former Honourable Rory years ago, and later taken up by my former benefactor, may have returned to haunt us all” Exclamation mark.’

‘I didn’t know Rory was an Honourable.’

‘He’s the above-mentioned Lord Bittadon now, his father recently died.’

‘Oh my god! There’s talk Prue has gone back to him, you don’t think...’

‘More than likely.’

‘So, what you’re saying is, all that nonsense you made up on the spur of the moment whilst staring into the fire with Rory and which appeared in The Beacon is now being taken seriously as future government policy?’ She said, as we unloaded at the back of Checkley Manor.

‘Yes, amongst the right-thinking. Frimley’s group is attempting to straddle the gulf between the once great party and all the disaffected of the last ten years.’ I replied as we came to a halt in the hall. ‘It’s awfully quiet in here, we must be on time for once.’

We found our usual accommodation ready for us. But when we reached the big kitchen there was no sign of life. We finally tracked them down in the library, sat opposite each other, both absorbed in their respective screens. ‘What ho, what ho, aged aunt, your lordship.’

‘Well, I’ll be damned. You’re on schedule. Well done, Charlotte. Can’t be easy, bringing this one to heal.’

‘Well done Charlotte indeed! Take a look at this.’ Said the aunt. We leered at her screen, it showed a mock-up of the cover of the next issue of The Countrywoman, it was a photo of Charlie laughing with Mr and Mrs HRH with the headline, Countrywoman Correspondent Honoured at Windsor.

‘Two too many words, Countrywoman Correspondent Honoured, is better. Your discerning readers will know it can’t be Buck House by the shape of the windows.’

‘Not too tabloid?’

‘You can never be too tabloid.’

Over lunch, Uncle exclaimed; ‘Gregson introduced me to your student gardener the other day. You kept that one quiet. Odd lad, seemed more interested in the house than the estate.’

‘I’m afraid I gave him a copy of the book when he was on placement at the Park, he became as fascinated with the people as much as the landscape.’

‘I see.’

‘Tim, as you might imagine comes from generations of cap-doffing outdoor staff, he has no time for such deference, but his ambition is not for revolution, he’s after a piece of the action.’

‘Shacked-up with his girlfriend over at the cottage as we speak, I must say that’s very liberal minded of Mrs Gregson.’

‘One rule for the rich, beloved?’ Said Julia with deep irony.

‘What?’

‘I say, Uncle, how’s your health? No family history of heart attacks or seizures?’

‘No!’

‘Said girlfriend is the eldest child and heir to one Barnabas Gruber.’

‘Holy Moses!’

‘The vomiting bridesmaid?’

‘One and the same dearest aunt.’

‘Now you listen up, Anthony. This could spell disaster for all of us if it gets out of hand, you still cooperating with this, Gruber?’

‘Uncle, we shared a dorm at school!’

Then Charlie weighed in with; ‘The same could be said of Buffy Trumpton, remind me, how did that work out?’

‘Barmy, now a subject of the Crown, let me assure you, has turned himself into a charitable foundation, much along the lines of the Trust, I’ve just accepted a seat on their board.’

‘And what of the daughter?’

‘In fairness to Tony, Melisa’s been in and out of our place at least a couple of times a week for years, I realise now he’s been mentoring her from the start. I think you can be reassured on those grounds, sir.’

And after a pause; ‘Thank you Charlotte, you’re a blessing, who knows where we’d be without your steady hand. Sometimes I fear for England.’

‘I think you’ll find it’s been this United Kingdom for the last three hundred years.’

And so it all began, our month in the country, it turned out Melisa was only dropping by at weekends, too hugger-mugger with Jack at the workshop and dropping by Royal Oak. I’d gone alone to see the good captain before we left town. I suggested the time might be right, to write inviting Mrs HRH alone, to be patron. The wording would be everything, I asserted as I handed him a draft. ‘It’s very short!’ He responded.

‘Yes. You offer her a free hand, ask nothing but for the privilege.’

In time I bumped into Tim, whilst roaming the grounds. He had his eye in, mentioned south facing slopes conducive to modern commercial orchards, vineyards? I showed him the walled garden and the cellar, normally off-limits to Gregson. ‘But, there’s nothing inevitable about the peninsula becoming the next Bordeaux, this warming could be in retreat in another thirty years. We adapt to what we see today.’ He agreed to help out with an early picking due to the dry weather. Then I hit him with; ‘What do you know about Melisa’s family?’

‘With respect sir, what do you know?’

‘Everything.’

‘Then, you’ll tell me what I need to know, when I need to know it?’

‘Tim, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.’

‘Sir?’

‘Closing line of a rather famous movie. A film about pragmatism, in time of war.’

142: Chilling out

In an effort to avoid ghosts of Christmas’ past, we’d decided to stay on at Checkley until the new year and in the process hopefully earn ourselves some brownie points from the uncle. I’d had the perfect excuse to curtail involvement with the book club and Charlie was relieved of the obligation to produce an ideologically unsound Tea.

But our mutual preoccupations travelled with us and Checkley is an excellent place to ruminate. It being mid-winter I took the opportunity to be brutal in my pruning of the vines. Charlie had her own concerns in the woods, but helped me in the walled garden off and on, particularly in the collecting and tying up of the pruned branches, which if allowed to dry in the barn would burn very rapidly and hot, excellent for barbeques and getting big wood fires underway.

‘I’ve been thinking about Kenneth, when did it start, this thing with Elisabeth?’

‘A year or two after she became a widow, I think.’

‘You said he told you that she’d told him about the circumstances of your parent’s death.’

‘Correct. But alas, that doesn’t help, or appear to help. The reason everyone took the official explanation at face value is that their car, although it went over the edge, didn’t catch on fire. The only passports found by the authorities were the British ones. They showed they’d left Switzerland that day, entered from Italy a week before. It looks like their deaths had nothing to do with anything.’

‘Has adding everyone’s passports to your chart helped?’

‘No not really, not yet. It shows two things so far, one my folks were fans of motoring tours of Europe, and two they never mixed travel on different passports. They were always one thing, or the other.’

‘What next?’

‘Add in data from father’s diaries and daybooks I suppose.’

‘Maybe Ken put himself alongside your aunt because he had the passports?’

‘Capital mistake to theorise without facts, Watson!’

But in truth I was still processing the cascade of news and gossip I’d been hit with at the Christmas lunch. Prudence seemed to have given up not just on Rory but the rest of us. Was that a good or bad thing? But perhaps I shouldn’t have been so dismissive of Rory? That he’d been able to apply his mind to anything, must be a good thing. Perhaps I should do the same, write my own novel. Now what would make a good subject, the way we live now, something from the past, or both? It would need to be positive though, on when the going was good, rather than like most modern writing which seems so, well, downtrodden and doom laden. And so much wishful thinking, rather than trying to get closer to the truth of something. But what about subject? I seem to, of necessity, acquired a mountain of knowledge, albeit a bit superficial, about railways of late. But that was a turn-off for most readers unless it contained the romance of travel with steam locomotives. And even then, thrillers on trains were as well-worn as a Rory Flotterton plot.

That Walpole should have become so territorial about his new home county was rather nice in a way. And fully committed to the railway, though it still wasn’t clear whether Helene welcomed him getting out from under her feet, or not. Was I wrong to be pragmatic with the elder Sparkwell, Walpole was outraged by the man on Charlie’s behalf, should I be the same? Well, it’s action that counts and it would be beyond arrogant to claim an understanding of her experience.

Junior Jack was clearly getting above himself, but that was fine, he’d already showed signs of new learning over the past few years. Charlie was right to seize the opportunity to help him out. The question now, was would the atmosphere of the club and maybe the history of the house, lead him to undo the modernisation of his hotel in order to match what was coming with the railway? At least he had some old photos on the walls of reception I’d noticed, upon which to contemplate.

The real Jack had already embraced respectability; it was just a question of no backsliding. Wainwright? I must find out if she planned to stick around the area, and do what? As for the cabal, the young Turks...

‘Ta-dah! Hey there you two.’

‘Who the devil?’ I mumbled as I looking up from my reverie. There, striking a pose in the entrance to the walled garden, stood Melisa. ‘Where did you spring from.’ I said more audibly.

‘We’re on a Christmas tour, of Tim’s relatives. There are bloody hundreds of them! This is day four, I think.’

‘Well, well, well.’ I replied.

‘How long are you stopping?’ Asked Charlie.

‘Arrived in time for lunch, staying overnight, then off to God knows where tomorrow. Still, Tim says these Gregsons are the really important ones. Can't think why, they’re hardly his closest relatives.’

‘How was lunch?’ I asked.

‘Bit heavy for me, Tim wolfed it down though, all the time hanging on Mr Gregson's words. I was surprised, he was telling him, basically, he should be grateful to you for all you’re doing for him and do whatever you tell him.’

‘Ah, yes that would sort of make sense.’

‘Then Tim asked him if there was any chance, he could take time off today to show him the whole estate and would his lordship and you mind? Then this Gregson said; “Just you leave his lordship to me boy”, and “I’m sure young Missy here could head-off Mr Anthony at the pass”. Then he told me where you’d be, and here I am.’

‘So Mel, you know Tim better than any of us, what does he want, career wise, what does he aspire to?’

‘Well, he doesn’t think that far ahead really; he’s fixed to go to the Park for his first placement, wants your garden centre to be the second, says there is some mystery about it he hasn’t discovered yet.’

‘Really.’

‘But when we entered the grounds this morning, he said how would I like to spend my summers here?’

‘And what do you think of that?’ asked Charlie.

‘Well, it’s all a bit samey, I mean, when you’ve seen one field, you’ve seen them all, haven’t you.’

‘Oh dear.’

‘Tim did the garden for you before we left, I left him for a couple of hours with a thermos.’

‘I know, I get notified of any activity on security.’

‘What, pictures?’

‘Sure, anything around the back gate, back door, front door.’

‘Right.’

‘I’ve always thought he’s a bit of a voyeur on the quite.’ Charlie butted in.

‘So says the greatest exhibitionist I’ve ever met.’ I shot back.

‘Is it true what they say at the club, about there being a sextape online of you two?’

‘I wouldn’t dignify it with the title, Sextape, more like badly edited scraps from the Park’s old static security cameras back in the day. So bad, it’s not easy to work out who is doing what to whom.’

‘The stuff we’ve accidental recorded at home is much better!’ Charlie proudly announced.

‘How could it be accidental, if the cameras are by the entrances?’

‘You must have noticed the ones in the treatment room, put there to intimidate private clients.’ I asserted.

‘Oh, right.’

‘Hardly surprising if you think about it, a professional masseuse fetishizing the materials of her trade.’

‘Ha! Says the man who always joins in with enthusiasm.’

139: To the manor born

‘You two still yacking?’ She said, looking accusatively in my direction.

‘What is yacking?’ Said the voice from the chaise lounge.

‘To talk aimlessly.’ I interceded.

‘But we talk seriously, purposefully. And we are old buddies, ya?’

‘May I remind you, sir! We are due at Checkley in time for lunch. Number two car is out the front, packed and ready to go. No offence Barmy.’

‘Then we will conclude.’

‘What on earth is that?’ Charlie said looking at my screen.

‘Tony’s timeline, for the years preceding his parent’s death, so far it’s only plotted with the data from the two sets of passports, British and Swiss, but they are all road border crossings, we’ve been speculating.’

‘Amongst others things. I’ve also briefed Barmy on Jack, vis-a-vis Mel.’

‘Right.’

‘Give me a second and I’ll email this infographic to the two of you, all ideas welcome because although I learnt plenty from Daphne and Archie, that’s just eliminated possibilities, not actually suggested any answers.’

Barmy rose to leave; ‘Give some care to how you present the data, at some point you may want to give it to Eltham’s AI app. In time I’m sure he will connect it to all the road mapping data coming from his self-drive EV’s, that’s already including European borders, manned or not. If Wieck wanted the passports, or wanted them back, then it must still be a live issue, the present day should be your baseline.’

‘Holy shit!’

‘This is what they pay me for Charlie, holy shit, I see myself out.’

‘Do you trust Barmy?’ She asked when we were on the road.

‘I don’t need to; we’ve talked all this through before. Besides, we’re all family in a sense. The wildest question that occurs to me in sleepless moments is, was Barmy, then a recent import from Germany, placed alongside me at school on purpose, by persons unknown?’

‘Now that would be creepy! Anyway, what worries me now is how your uncle will react if our holiday is disturbed by my house hunting parents. I told Thayer to text any and all developments.’

‘I did pre-warn him that we might have to step out and meet your folks at some point.’

‘Thanks.’

As we were unloading at the manor, I said; ‘It’s been months and you still haven’t noticed when it’s staring you in the eye.’

‘Noticed what?’

‘Where the dish is.’

‘Should I have?’

‘This boot lid, it’s somewhat thicker than it used to be!’

‘Oh, my... I just thought I was losing it because I couldn’t get so much in. So, Jack’s lads fitted them to both?’

‘Sure, same method that’s used when they’re fitted under the skin of an aircraft.’

Then a voice-off shouted; ‘Come on you two, you're late.’

‘Fulsome apologies for our late arrive.’ I said as we came through the door of the big kitchen.

‘He says, dripping with sincerity.’ Replied uncle, with that whiff of existential despair.

‘Sorry too, in advance, for us being distracted by my parents.’ Added Charlie.

‘Now that’s, a legitimate excuse.’

A moment or two later, just as we were dunking fresh-baked bread into our homemade soup, my mobile pinged. When I raised my head from reading, they were all looking at me; ‘That was an email from Bernard.’

‘Who?’ Asked Julia.

‘His solicitor, someone finally caught up with him no doubt.’ Quipped the uncle.

‘Congratulations Charlie, you are, in the absence of any other claimants, now the proud owner of all the worldly goods of the late great Kenneth Murchison.’

‘And the flat?’

‘Any money raised to go to the Trust, Bernard suggests we give some thought to how his life might be memorialised, which by great good fortune is also now your responsibility too, given your position as lead trustee for charitable affairs.’

‘How much will the sale raise?’

‘Well, despite it having only one bedroom, it has as you’ve so often expressed, a grand location and situation, Bernard suggests there really is only one estate agent in the county capable of promoting...’

At which point Julia interrupted my peroration by reaching over and handing Charlie what looked like a copy of the forthcoming edition of The Countrywoman, presumably containing the photo spread of, and her extended captions on, the royal visits. There was a cheque paper-clipped to the front, though I was unable to read the amount.

‘But this is way too much.’ Protested Charlie.

‘Nonsense my dear, this is the second time in the magazine’s history you’ve enabled us to put Royal Exclusive on the cover.’

Late afternoon I went in search of Gregson before he packed up for the day. ‘You had me confused when you arrived sir, you not heading for the vines, like.’

‘We were late, and I rather assumed they’d be neglected.’

‘His lordship struggles a bit these days, though I doubt he’d admit as much.’ Then, looking directly at me, he said; ‘I must thank you for what you’re doing for our Tim.’

‘Er, Tim Adler is one of yours?’

‘Cousin Irene’s boy. She married an Adler, funny that. My father had three brothers, that’s how Gregsons is everywhere hereabouts. He used to love visiting when he was a nipper.’

‘He’s a useful gardener, and smart with it!’

‘Of course you see that, sir. Steering him towards the Arlington Trust and all. The others, family like, they see good school work and think, chance to get out of rural concerns. Always liked the lad. What do you make of this girl he’s hanging around with?’

‘Ah! She’s the daughter of old friends, known her since she was a child too. Tell anyone who’s concerned to rest easy.’

‘Now I must tell you, we had a day out on the railway the other day, there was a call out for volunteers to try out the first battery train. The wife put together a traditional picnic basket, quite a party atmosphere in our carriage in the end. Then afterwards we repaired at the Railway Arms, wonderful display of old photos, I couldn’t help wondering what’s intended for the bay platforms that used to take trains up the valley?’

‘Well, there is a thought they would make a good location for servicing a Dining Train, that could shuttle up and down in the evenings.’

‘Use some old Brighton Belle Pullman’s likely as not?’

‘No, no. They’re all in use by the charter trains. No, the thought is a couple of Mark One buffet cars could be restored as proper kitchen cars, back-to-back, with open First Class carriages at either end. Authentic, mid nineteen fifties.’

‘Course if you were to do it proper like you’d need to be serving Brown Windsor soup, lamb and two veg. Maybe suet pudding to finish.’

‘Perhaps we should hire your good lady to consult!’

The Moor takes people in different ways. Though we were only to be away twenty-four hours, I’d spent many hours prepping Charlie and she was in constant touch with Junior Jack. Little could be left to chance. I insisted for example that the room we would use overnight must be inferior to the one occupied by Sparkwell KC and wife.

‘We are lowly, we are humble, we attend upon and defer to. Whilst you sit demurely and hold your tongue, I am enthralled by his every utterance.’ I expounded, as I drove us through the labyrinth of moorland roads.

‘You’re going to have me behave in just the way father always expected of me. He’ll assume I’ve finally been broken on the wheel.’

‘It’s a game I’m willing to play because I’m not you. I’m guessing the fastest way to get him to relax and feel safe, is to mirror him. And tomorrow is a Sunday.’

I’m sure dear reader you are only too familiar with the modern hotel dining experience, which of course is why we have the club, so I’ll cut to the chase. Talk of house hunting arose of its own accord, but it wasn’t until later over coffee in the lounge that Sparkwell senior felt able to unburden himself. ‘Our worry, as even you may appreciate Charlotte, is as much about finding a spiritual home as a material one.’

‘I wonder sir, when you were consulting Mr Thayer, whether you took the opportunity of visiting the cathedral?’

‘Most certainly.’

‘Well, on the floor above County Estates is the office of my accountant Lawrence Brinkley, he does the cathedral’s books. And on the floor above him is my solicitor one Bernard Merriweather who is the Chancellor of the diocese of said cathedral, now they’re a gossipy old pair but, it strikes me they might be well-up on the kind of gossip, you’d want to know about.’

‘You seem remarkably well-connected Tony?’ Said Charlie’s mother.

‘Well, everyone knows everyone else hereabouts, it’s just the way it is.’

‘Thank you, Anthony. You’ve given us much to think about.’

‘Perhaps we should leave it there for today then.’

‘Yes, tomorrow is an early start. The manager informs me the local church is but a short walk.’

‘Only five minutes, but uphill all the way, father.’ Said Charlie, rising majestically.

125: The enemy within

All was not well from the off. As Charlie drew to a halt at the rear of Checkley Manor, uncle could be seen sitting on the bench seat outside the back door. He was attempting to smoke his pipe, something I’d not seen him do in many a year. ‘You find us in a state of chaos.’ He declared, with a cough. ‘That couple will be the death of me.’ Cough, wheeze. ‘Why I ever listened to you in the first place I’ll never know, I must be losing the plot. If you’d been here when you should have been, messing around with politics...’

‘Uncle! What on earth has happened?’

‘We were promised two weeks, three at the outside, so far it’s been almost a month!’

‘Do I take it the Gregson’s are still living-in?’

‘You do.’

‘Well, we’ll leave you in peace then, go and say hello to Julia.’

We discovered Aunt Julia in the library, doing a rare impression of uncle, hands behind her back, pawing the rug of the hearth in front of the non-existent fire. ‘Be seated the two of you. I’m afraid you find me in temporary command, my beloved having deserted the field of fire.’

‘Yes, we’ve already exchanged words at the back door.’

‘How did he seem?’

‘Disconsolate.’

‘Self-pitying more like. Now listen-up. Your task these holidays Tony, is not to keep your uncle absorbed in purposeful activity as before, but to keep Gregson away from him. And hopefully offer what assistance you can in facilitating their removal, ASAP, back to their rightful residence.’

‘I see.’

‘Whilst Charlotte will place herself between myself and Mrs Gregson. Any questions?’

‘Yes, what the hell has been going on?’

‘Evening Mr Gregson.’

‘Oh, thank goodness you’re here, sir.’

‘Are you free to talk?’

‘Yes, if you'd care to walk with me, I'm off to inspect today’s progress at the cottage.’

‘Things have been taking longer than expected I gather?’ I said, as we moved off.

‘Putting a bit of a strain on relations with his lordship I’m afraid, sir.’

‘Well, I’ll do what I can to smooth things over. So, the builders not pulling their fingers out?’

‘Oh no, sir. They’ve been very thorough, here every day when they have the materials. It’s the supply chain that’s the problem, demand for the most dependable gas heating parts has been very high, all the stuff that makes your system more robust, prepping for the row over heat pumps, which I’m assured couldn’t even keep the damp out of an old property like ours, located as we are next to the river. The supporting masonry is solid stone, only the back wall, the more modern extension has an insulated cavity now, and of course the roof, now has several layers of the whatever too. But even with double glazing throughout, you need heating with poke.’

‘Quite.’

When we arrived at the cottage, there was an old fashion hand written note left by the builders on the kitchen table. It read; ‘Will test heating tomorrow, if all’s well will leave on background, proceed with internal paintwork, five days approx. Advise further two days for further drying out before you return.’

‘That’s rather nice, to receive a hand written note, and legible too!’

‘Indeed, sir.’

‘How will the delay affect the bill?’

‘Hardly at all, the man hours have been more or less as expected, as I say supply chain issues, these lads always have other jobs to go to.’ Then he gave me a bit of a tour of the cottage.

‘Mrs Gregson will appreciate the changes.’

‘Oh, indeed, sir.’

‘How is her health?’

‘It will improve now. She’s become very much an inside person.’

Then we moved out onto the decking of the patio and took the walkway down to the little river jetty. ‘It would be nice to see fish back in the river.’ I spoke.

‘His lordship has been frustrated over acquiring the old brickworks. This A & C Restorations have plans of their own apparently.’

‘I know. Clean up the site, then half a dozen residential properties with river frontage and a generous half a field behind for a horse or two. The new railway company have already dredged around their quay at the old naval port and are looking to take on work further up river, provided the environment agency can be persuaded they don’t have a monopoly on wisdom when it comes to climate measures.’

‘You seem a lot better informed than we are?’

‘Well, fingers in pies Mr Gregson.’

Then we started our walk back to the house. ‘Looking back, I suppose relations with his lordship began to go downhill after all that business with the vines.’ Reflected Gregson.

‘Well, I feel much the same way, I found that offering help tended to fall on deaf ears, in the end I just went ahead and did things uninvited. He wasn’t displeased, he could see the sense in them, he just seemed more annoyed with himself for not being at the top of his game. He doesn’t seem to have grown into, growing old. I hope I learn not to look a gift horse in the what’s it! What’s for supper, I wonder?’

‘Pie, peas and new potatoes. Followed by a plumb sponge for dessert, the wife assures me.’

‘Oh, excellent!’

Nobody said much at the meal. Gregson saved his good news on the cottage until we were passing around the custard. I got approving glances from both Julia and Uncle, they must have assumed I’d been working my magic touch, I said nothing to disabuse them. Despite the fact we’d all been offered Mrs Gregson’s traditional English rural fare; I noticed everyone had cleared their plates!

The vines in the walled garden had been much neglected. I set-to, to try and catch-up a bit. But it wasn’t long before I was interrupted; ‘Why aren’t you keeping my beloved out of Gregson’s way?’ Said a stern voice behind me.

‘In case you hadn’t noticed Julia, both Uncle and Gregson are doing a perfectly good job of keeping out of each other’s way without my assistance. Besides there’s much to be done here.’

‘I see. Now then, since we’re alone. A is for Anthony and C is for Charlotte.’

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘Not like you to use such a simple nom de plume.’

‘Ah! Well, it is just a temporary measure.’

‘Enough to fool your uncle, you mean.’

‘He doesn’t have a suspicious mind like you. One has to try to do good by stealth where he is concerned. It’s just me doing what he always wanted, but with a bit of get up and go. Sometimes the best person for the job just has to step up and get on with it. I’ll hand it all over when it’s done.’

‘But at what price?’

‘The only price, will be greater influence.’

I found Charlie chopping wood. Stripped to sports bra, yoga pants and with her baseball cap serving as a sweet band, squirrel flowing out the back, she made an impressive site. ‘How’s it going?’ I enquired.

‘I’m catching up, slowly. Beatrice’s diet takes some working off.’

‘Beatrice? Who she?’

‘Mrs Gregson, idiot.’

‘I see. This has all been a bit of a storm in a tea cup.’

‘What?’

‘Uncle in a panic. Feeling the grip of the grim reaper’s icy touch no doubt, the whiff of existential despair.’

‘Well, you said it. We’ll need to get back to a strict regime of diet and exercise when we get home.’

‘Oh my God.’ I said, as another log split neatly with a single blow and fell to the ground.

109: The last peasant

‘We had a visit from the King a few days ago. Sat where you are now.’

‘Good lord!’ It was the only response I could think of.

‘Yes. In the west country tidying up loose ends regarding the Duchy, saying his last goodbyes, dropped by for an hour or so.’ Uncle was displaying his usual nervous tick of standing warming himself with his back to a non-existent fire. ‘Talked a lot about organics and the eastern European connection, doesn’t think he’ll be able to get out there again. Curious to know how we were getting on. Complementary about the wine.’

‘Really.’

‘Asked about progress on restoring the Park. Said the Prince had given him a favourable report.’

‘Well, that’s good.’

‘Asked my opinion of you, somewhat took me aback.’

‘My word.’

‘Hadn’t quite grasped that the couple he’d heard the Prince speak of, were the same people he’d met at Mackintosh’s place. Naturally I reminded him Charlotte had been honoured by the late Queen.’

‘I see.’

‘Fact is, he wanted an insider’s view, been hearing about your railway plans. Some sit down chat after a Privy Council meeting or some such. Wasn’t too sure what he was driving at to be honest. Said he didn’t want anything in the past to mess up the new stewardship of the Duchy. Quite a steam enthusiast it turns out. Anyway, some talk of an order in council, idea of that chum of yours, the one with the specs. So, I did the decent thing.’

‘The decent thing?’

‘Gave you a clean bill of health, said your Trust was altogether Green and that you were quite paternalistic towards the Park.’

‘Er, thank you.’

‘And er, he quite appreciates the inheritance problem, sands of time and all that. Well, better join the ladies I suppose.’

‘I've been telling Tony about our visit from the King.’

‘You might have waited so dear Charlotte could hear it!’

‘Boy’s talk.’

‘Do we accept that kind of thing anymore?’ Julia addressed the four of us reinstalled in the big kitchen.

‘When it’s a “need to know” thing, I’ve learned I’m often better off, well out of it.’ Offered Charlie.

‘I take the point, but consider it a reprimand Reggie.’

‘Very well, my dear. You still perusing your print edition?’

‘Just showing, the spread about the railway plans. I’m sure our readers are loving the pictures, but may find the plans alarming.’

‘Still, an exclusive, exclusive. Good for sales.’ I asserted.

‘You’ve got Gregson confused Tony. He sees you as the heir apparent, worried you’ll be distracted from country affairs by the railway. Not that it’s any of his business, he’ll be retiring in a few years.’ She continued.

‘Got to watch yourself with Gregson, never sure he’s on board with organics, more concerned with commercial farming, which is ironic really, more your grab whatever subsidies are going type.’ Added Uncle.

‘Well, I’m sure I’ll catch-up whilst we’re here.’

About twenty minutes later something truly alarming occurred. Julia placed before us what can only be described as a large bowl of assorted fruits.

‘Fruit! Just fruit? No pudding?’ I exclaimed.

‘We must all be mindful of our health.’ She said by way of explanation.

‘Charlotte’s opening our minds to sensible eating.’ Mused Uncle. ‘I’d have thought you’d be used to it. It’s what you get at home isn’t it?’

‘But I’m on holiday. Checkley is holidays. Sponge puddings, crumbles, it’s my reason for being here!’

‘Oh, grow up. Stupid boy!’ Declared Julia.

It was a few days before I got around to Gregson, I found him sat at his desk in the estate office watching YouTube! ‘Haven’t you got work to go to?’

‘Oh, hello, sir. I’m rather afraid it is work. Take a look at this. This, would you believe is a driverless tractor towing the latest laser sprayer. It, spraying from about a foot away, only sprays what actually needs spraying. The reduction in spray is colossal, and given the tractor is on cruise control for maximum fuel efficiency... I’m gobsmacked, sir.’

‘Wouldn’t work for wheat or barley I should think, too densely packed and variable even for that machine.’

‘You may be right, sir.’

‘And what will they cost to rent?’

‘Who knows! Hopefully I won’t be around to see it.’

‘You’re not unwell, are you?’

‘Oh no, sir. It’s just the wife and I have been trying to make our retirement plans.’

‘The tractor in this demo is not electric then?’

‘No, but it’s only a matter of time I suppose. I’m old enough to remember the start of it all. The wife and I used to enjoy Tomorrow’s World. Fifty years ago, that would be. They showed solar panels, wind turbines, oh and wave power, a barrage across the Severn to catch the tide. Of course, none of them has actually paid for themselves yet. And we’re all still waiting for our personal helicopters.’

‘Quite.’

‘Back then people just said the country, before townies invented the countryside.’

‘So, what are your retirement plans?’

‘Well, we were hoping to stay at the cottage, but I’ve not had the opportunity to discuss it with his lordship yet.’

‘I should try and get it all in writing as soon as possible, just in case either Julia or I suffer a blow to the head!’

‘It’s difficult sir, obviously my pension will be lower than my salary, and we pay a peppercorn rent as it is.’

‘What’s the state of the property?’

‘Well, that’s another thing, in need of urgent attention I’d say, I rather suspect your uncle is assuming we’d want to move on and would get all the work done when it was empty.’

‘There is other vacant property on the estate that could provide temporary accommodation, not to mention within here, for yourselves or the new manager when the time comes.’

‘We wouldn’t mind that for a few weeks. But if we were forced off the estate we’d be at the mercy of the local authorities.’

‘Anyway, I’m pretty sure you need to get everything tied down and watertight whilst you still have, not only your employee status but your official position as farm manager, I’ll say no more.’ He looked a little confused; ‘Think it through!’ I added, with a grin, as I moved away.

Sometime later, as we were coming to the end of our summer sojourn, I found myself taking an evening stroll with Uncle. ‘You’ll be back to help with the vines?’

‘Of course. The best will be ready earlier this year, keep a watchful eye. In fact, you might think of picking twice, two pressings.’

‘But surely with the warmth we’ll do well anyway?’

‘Yes, but the walled garden is so well protected, and drained, you could push it a bit, really go for it. Ride out any storms.’

‘We’ll see.’

We came back by the river and as we were passing the Gregson’s home I said; ‘When are you planning on doing the restoration work on the cottage?’

‘When they’re out and it’s empty.’

‘It might pay you to get started right away.’

‘How so?’

‘The Gregsons want to stay on at the cottage after retirement. And what’s more, be able to afford to live in reasonable comfort.’

‘Damn! I had plans. It’s so close on the river, I thought of a wooden patio out the back, leading down to a pontoon thingy for fishing.’

‘But no one is interested in fishing, the river isn’t clean enough, according to Charlie.’

‘I know, but I thought if I could acquire the land upstream, the old abandoned brickworks, one could clean-up the river. The place may look green now, but it is a brown field site.’

‘Well, that might stop the river getting worse, but you’d have to start dredging from wherever downstream, possibly all the way from the old naval port. It used to be navigable for quite substantial river barges as far as the works.’

‘Ah, well. Such is life. And now you tell me Gregson is going to be a pain about things.’

‘Not to you personally, not necessarily. You know, you can’t sack him because he is competent, you can’t make him redundant because his work is essential. He can hang around for almost another three years. Now, if the cottage is properly part of the farm business, necessary worker accommodation, then he, as head of it all, is legally responsible. If repairs have become say, urgent on health and safety grounds, well, I mean, easy enough to lose a hundred grand in the accounts, spread over a couple of years that is, as you say he’s the man for subsidies, grants, tax breaks...’

‘All the same, he’d be sticking his nose in our affairs till his dying day.’

‘Maybe. Who owns the brickworks now?’

‘Some shell company or whatever, subsidiary of a subsidiary, goes by the name of A & C Restorations.’

‘Oh, well, good luck with that then!’

93: Panic

‘All done, Mr Cleverly.’ I spoke. ‘And I can quite appreciate the bank’s desire to move on, I’ll do what I can to expiate matters.’ Back in Archie’s office I was met by expectant smiles. ‘Well, we mustn’t delay the staff Charlie, onward and upward.’

Back in the street; ‘Well?’

‘Bit of luck that, being able to just breeze in, I quite thought such arrangements were a thing of the past, there was no indication as to how many boxes were still in use, so to speak.’

‘You know damn well what I meant. Are we now the possessors of a wad of escape cash, several false identities and an automatic pistol?’

‘You really are quite romantic when you want to be. No, none of that, just more notebooks and old documents, masses of them, they weigh a ton! So, to the Villa, for as long as it takes for me to do an initial assessment of the two bags.’

‘Archie was really quite nervous.’

‘He shouldn’t be, they have us and we have them. In the fullness of time a local media event, highlighting our discoveries, might solve their problem.’

‘But surely, they could just get the police and some sort of officer of the court and the crooks are busted.’

‘You’re still not getting this. Remember your heuristics. Separate in your mind; empathy, feeling what others feel, from “theory of mind”; the realisation that others think differently from you. The bank, are bricking themselves over what is in the boxes of the honest punters, okay?’

‘But?’

‘Just suppose the bank does decide to end the service and open the boxes, the owners of the contents are anonymous and most probably long dead. The crooked stuff? Ten per cent at most. The vast majority is the property, if they only knew it, of well to do and influential locals - jewels, historic artefacts, documents giving title to, investment certificates of one sort or another. Some of the best of the city was flattened in the war, killing their owners. Before you know it, multiple multi-million-pound lawsuits from people claiming to be the rightful owners of the same stuff!’

‘And you think you can gain kudos by helping them avoid all that by publicising something you don’t actually know anything about yet!’

‘Just thinking ahead.’

‘We need to tell Julia something! It’s getting late.’

‘Er, text; “MT frail but okay, hope to return by tomorrow evening”.’

Charlie was towering over me as I was trying to make sense of our cache of documents by arranging them on the floor of the media room. ‘Done. Now, what have we got?’ She asked.

‘In essence, Mr Tufnell’s name on title deeds for numerous properties, across the entire county it would seem, but what’s odd is these are piddling bits of land. Mainly brown field sites, occasionally built on. I can’t see rhyme nor reason to any of it.’

‘Someone must know.’

‘Sure. But which of his contemporaries would be in the know? And how to get them to talk?’

On our way back to the manor, we couldn’t resist dropping-in at the Park. There was raucous laughter and cheering emanating from the bar. ‘What’s going on?’

‘Buffy’s gone.’

‘Gone where?’

‘Sacked, thrown-out, they’ve deserted him. He’s gone too far. The right-thinking element have told him to walk.’ Said one of Buffy’s long-time critics.

‘I see.’

‘Glass of bubbly old man?’

‘I’ll just stick with the black coffee, if it’s all the same, need to keep a clear head.’

We retreated to the lounge, only to be confronted by Prudence, pacing the ground before the hearth.

‘It’s the end, certain defeat at the next election, money gone, Rory jobless, hopeless, the shame of it, Tony you’ve got to help, I’ll do anything, I’m begging you.’

‘You need to show patience, Prudence.’

‘What?’

‘You’re local, Rory’s local, that’s your appeal. You fight for the seat with all gusto, unapologetic about Buffy, if you lose, you merely stay where you are, campaign for the local party, fight the next election after that, return in triumph, the problem is the money. Rory’s unfit to do anything else, you have to find the cash doing something part-time that will raise enough. Focus on that.’

‘That’s all very well for you to say!’

‘I know, but that is the answer, the only answer.’

‘But how?’

‘Well, you’ve got two years to put your plan B in place, hang around here as much as possible, the money is here. With the individual members. Who likes you, who do you get on with, what do they need that you can supply, get my drift? Oh, and remember, membership here, is a fixed cost in your accounts.’

‘Er?’

I walked towards the garden for some fresh air, Charlie had drifted off somewhere as is her habit. I needed time to think. As I wandered towards the pond, I was surprised to find Don Wooley, newspaper man extraordinaire, seemingly on much the same mission. ‘Wouldn’t have thought you’d be operating from here at a time like this?’

‘I’ve been sneaking into the conference area and using the fibre, it’s still copper wire in the first-floor bedrooms. I don’t think that Fiona likes me!’

‘I see. Okay, well I can get the issue of more fibre throughout the occupied parts of the house further up the “to do list” because the relative cost is falling, Fiona is another matter entirely. Fiona always has to be in the room, so to speak. She is the public face of the Park, she’s the one in front of the camera. She may not have authority in decision making but she does have to be included. Charm her Don, after all she’s an old friend of Charlie’s, Charlie got her in here.’

‘Shit! Er, look I’ve got an idea about your conference centre, let’s go inside and have a look.’

It turned out the Don was concerned about the smaller of the two rooms leading off from the ballroom. ‘So, you don’t like the tables and chairs?’

‘Most of the time it’s being used as a media room now, no point in it looking like a college seminar room when by the simple act of replacing them with a sofa and a couple of chairs from upstairs, you have the grand country house decor along two sides, and your cameras and a perch for the technician come director on the other two sides. Now what does that set-up make you think of?’

‘The posh-ist Breakfast Time or Daytime tv studio ever?’

‘Exactly! Or to be more precise the summer residence, or perhaps winter residence, of The Don Wooley Podcast. Daily rent for at least three months of the year.’

‘I like it.’

‘Not that different from your home set-up really?’

‘Who, told you that?’

‘Oh! No secrets between me and Charlie these days, I know all about her, spread out on the chaise-lounge, whilst you fiddle with your gadgets.’

‘I beg your pardon!’

‘Fear not, she’s one of the special people. Anyway, what do you think Buffy will do now, now he has time on his hands, write his memoirs?’

‘Buffy doesn’t write.’

‘Really? Now that is interesting.’

‘Apart from reading agendas, and scribbling notes for speeches, he is a cultural desert!’

‘What are you two conspiring about?’ Came a voice from the doorway.

‘Charlie!’

‘There’s progress at the stables to be inspected, sir. Before we hit the road.’

‘Well, don’t let me detain you any longer.’

‘I’ll speak to the committee.’

‘What’s he doing?’

‘Distressing a brick!’ Our stone mason’s mate, had just chucked a brick into the portable cement mixer, whilst the man himself was attending to a piece of the decorated stonework which intermittently broke the monotony of the brick work. Only the garaging of the minibus could be said to be complete.

Speaking from atop the portable scaffolding, the boss said; ‘We’ve been taking a few days off from your Magdalen Place properties, while matey rescues bits of wrought iron guttering and down pipe from the back, to make the front entirely genuine again, so the back alas, will be entirely fake.’

‘Which it’s going to look anyway because of the sure-ing-up you’ve had to do?’

‘Well, that’s the way we see it, sir.’

‘No worries! Right then Sparkwell, we can’t hang around here watching other men work, we have places to be and things to do.’

Back at the manor about a week later, Julia sort me out in the grounds; ‘Tony, I’ve just taken a call from Victoria Herring.’

‘Oh, lord.’

‘I’m sorry, Mary’s gone. Passed away whilst still at the house apparently.’

92: Sweating

‘It’s not working!’

‘No, no it isn’t.’

‘All that trouble you went to.’

‘Yes.’

‘Rory’s lost his nerve, he’s dithering.’

‘He should bowl as fast as he can, Buffy has a good variety of shots.’

‘What? What has cricket got to do with a parliamentary committee?’

‘You can draw an analogy with cricket, for anything! Besides, Buffy has always had a cricket bat by his desk since school.’

‘Even in number ten?’

‘According to Carrie.’

‘Anyway, they can’t hog the conversation much longer, and they certainly won’t get away with more jabbering about your Anglosphere ambitions.’

We were sitting watching the television in the library at Checkley Manor, with the shutters closed. The heat had forced us indoors and onto a Mediterranean timetable. Sure enough, it wasn’t long before the rest of Rory’s Whitehall watchdog forced the questioning onto ‘conduct unbecoming’ and the ‘dignity of office’. Buffy remained ebullient, but looked relieved when Rory started looking at his watch and asking the honourable members to keep questions short, to which one unintended wit replied; ‘Yes well, I think we all understand the Prime Minster’s time is almost up.’

‘Oh dear, oh dear.’

‘You, are going to need, a Plan B, old boy.’ I turned my head, just to check, yes, definite signs of her suppressed smirk.

It came out of the blue, as these things always do. ‘Have you checked your mobile?’ Asked Charlie.

‘No.’

‘A text from an M.T. “Come soonest STOP Be unobserved STOP” What on earth?’

I could feel my temperature drop, it’s what lets you act without falling apart. ‘It’s an emergency, pack everything, as if we were gone for good, drive around to the front and wait, fifteen minutes.’

‘But?’

‘So that everyone knows we’ve been called away. I’ll talk to Julia.’

‘Is she dying?’

‘Of course, but this must be about something that she needs to communicate in private, whilst she can still make herself understandable, rightly or wrongly she thinks this is her last opportunity. Not easy to arrange if you think about it, Tuffy and Victoria out of the way, maybe she’s off to hospital or a care home. I’m treating it as an emergency until I know different.’

‘But you think you know.’

‘Something about father, mother maybe, via her late husband.’

‘Where are we going?’

‘Town.’ Then, five minutes later, I had Charlie pull off the road. Saying nothing, I showed her instead. I switched off my mobile, then reached under the dash and pulled the plug on the computer, finally I stepped out, turned around, ferreted under the bench and pulled the plug on the extras. I then looked at Charlie in expectation. She turned off her two mobiles, showed me her off tablet and laptop.

‘This is Moscow Rules, is it?’

‘Well, not quite, just dead methods.’

‘Park here, just a short walk. But, er, keep your driving gloves on.’ I then extracted a modest selection of tools from the boot, small enough to fit in my pockets. I found a fold-away bag and then we were on our way, down the lane.

‘Where are we?’

‘Back of Tuffy’s house.’

‘Oh yes! Why?’

‘The message said unobserved, so...’

‘M.T. Mary Tufnell.’

Things were very overgrown, but the back door was unlocked. Inside the atmosphere said age, neglect, and the presence of a young female in the last few hours, carer not nurse or doctor. ‘Presumably the other two doors are unlocked, if so, the house is empty apart from Mary and we now have a plausible story for being here if interrupted.’

‘Two?’

‘This is the lower basement. Nonetheless we’ll need to lock all three before leaving by the front.’

When we came out on the ground floor I said; ‘We’ll try the first-floor withdrawing, but my guess is the bedroom.’

A few minutes later, at the bedroom door, I said; ‘Stay here, delay anyone arriving as long as possible, something like; “Tony is here about the deplorable state of the back and the yard, he always knows how to get things done cheap” etc.’

I knocked, no answer, I opened the door a little; ‘Hello! It’s Anthony.’ No answer, I went in and closed the door. She nodded towards the chair by the bed. ‘Before we talk, if you can give me the keys to the basements, Charlotte can lock them again right away.’ She pointed to them. I took them out to Charlie, then returned.

‘You took your time.’ She said it with that glint in the eye that Tuffy never seemed to notice.

‘We were at Checkley Manor.’

‘Oh, I’m sorry, your summer holidays.’

‘You’ve got a young female carer.’

‘Not for long.’ A hand went beneath the covers, then reappeared, clenched. ‘My husband put these in my hand on his death bed, he was incapable of explaining, and I’ve never been able to find out.’

I felt metal in the palm of my outstretched hand, I extracted a bunch of small keys with my free hand, whilst holding on with the other. ‘Well now, these ancient ones open boxes, I imagine, in the late-great’s study, but this is a modern-ish safety deposit box key, and the letters and numbers tell us, oh, how convenient!’

‘Yes?’

‘Mary, there are different sorts of accounts, I may not be able to gain access until after your Will comes into force, it may even require Tuffy’s cooperation.’ All I got in reply was a blank stare. ‘Yes, er, Tuffy mentioned a while back you’d had him make a start on the office, but that he’d come unstuck with the day books, said they were written in some sort of code, perhaps I can help?’

‘Permission granted.’

There was a knock at the door. I placed the small keys in an inside pocket. Then collected, and returned to their rightful place, the basement keys. I remained standing. ‘I’m leaving now, you’ve put us on a tight schedule. I owe you everything, and I love you for everything you’ve done. To borrow a quote; “We will, meet again”.’

‘I believe you.’

‘Hold on here for a few more minutes.’ I said as we came to the study door. Mr Tufnell had kept the place neat to the end. Mrs Tufnell had kept it as her late husband liked it. Tuffy had just left it where he’d got to and walked away. Which was good, for what I thought I needed, was on the top of the pile. I extracted the non-transparent reusable supermarket carrier. We left by the front door.

‘Where to, sir?’

‘What time is it?’

‘You know bloody well I don’t wear a watch, but you still do!’

‘Jack’s filling station for a comfort break. How do you normally approach Archie Layton, text or phone first, or just walk in?’

‘Phone.’

‘Phone him from Jack’s, on whichever mobile you normally use, if he’s there, say you’ve a load of dosh to pay-in, hoping to get there before closing, let him assume you’re on your own.’

‘Shouldn’t you be briefing me?’

‘I don’t know. I would say, “you don’t wanna know”, but I don’t know that either. Therefore, using dead methods, it’s a series of physical cut-outs if and when required.’

Later, at the multi-story in our great cathedral city, we went fully back online. ‘Why now?’ She asked.

‘Well, we don’t want our system, our network, saying something other than the usual when in the presence of the Trust’s own banker’s security. And bank security tends to make all the running online anyway, internet giants and governments slipstream behind them more often than you’d think. Now, there’s another bag in here somewhere.’

‘Ha! Tony. What an unexpected surprise. Er, what’s going on?’ I was holding up the key. ‘Is that one of ours?’ Archie said, promptly shutting the door.

‘Well, I’d hardly be here otherwise!’

‘The thing is, I don’t really get involved in such matters. No authority, I’ll have to bring in Mr Cleverly, okay?’

‘Sure.’

The aforementioned arrived suspiciously quickly. After formal introductions; ‘If I could just view the key, sir. Thank you. I’ll use your terminal a moment Mr Leyton if I may. There. We don’t offer these key-holder accounts anymore, sir. Moved to a different system. As soon as you are happy to discontinue, do let us know. Still, nice to know it is in the hands of such a prominent client of our mainstream services. If you care to follow me sir, I’m sure Archie will keep Ms Sparkwell company.’

‘Oldest part of the new bank now, funny that. I rarely get to see it. Quite un-upgraded. I’ll be just by the door, sir.’

Right, take your time, no matter what’s in the tray, all in number two supermarket bag. Although, give the impression of sorting a little and just taking what you need.

91: The sun always rises

‘If tweed is for the country, and you always wear it at Checkley, why do you never wear it at the Park, which is just as much the country?’

‘At the club, I never wear tweed at the club, but I do occasionally wear it around the Park.’

‘That doesn’t answer my question!’

‘The club is, in essence, the town, in spirit.’

‘Very good, sir. I’ll lay out our clothes for the summer hols.’

It was the day of our departure for Checkley Manor. We were a few minutes from leaving when the inevitable finally happened. And it was I, who happened to be closest to the front door.

‘Anthony Arlington, I presume.’ Said the man at the door.

‘Who wants to know?’

‘I’ve been on the road for four hours; I’m not playing games. Is my daughter here?’

‘Ah! So, you’re claiming to be Charles Sparkwell, barrister at law?’

‘The very same. I’m not here for an argument, I just need to speak to Charlotte as a matter of urgency.’

‘Well, you’d better come in then. Do go on through to the reception room.’

He paused, somewhat abruptly, when he saw our cover stories from The Beacon; ‘You actually celebrate my daughter’s appearance in the public prints?’

‘Oh, indeed. A great source of pride.’

‘But it’s the country’s most notorious tabloid!’

‘It also has the largest circulation of any paper and their executive editor is a big fan of Charlie, do come on through.’

As soon as Sparkwell senior was seated and I’d taken my usual seat, I said; ‘When last seen, Charlotte was closing off the upper part of the house, we’re due to leave for our summer holidays within the hour. No doubt she’ll join us in a moment.’

‘Aren’t you going to call her?’

‘No, I generally find she appears when required. When she does, I’ll leave you alone to talk.’

‘Stay where you are Tony, I’d be glad of a witness.’ As anticipated, she’d clearly been skulking; ‘You almost missed us; we’ll be gone in minutes. You should have messaged.’

‘I’ll come straight to the point then. Your mother is dying.’

‘What! What of?’

‘Nobody knows, the medical authorities are at a total loss.’

‘Then how do you know she’s dying?’

‘Very well, she believes her time has come. She’s in distress and says she wishes to see you one last time. It’s all very upsetting. You may be able to calm her.’

‘Does she look ill?’

‘Well, she’s not been sleeping well, slow to rise, somewhat listless whilst going about her household chores.’

‘Well, we’re on a schedule. What do you think Tony?’

‘Checkley Manor is kind of en route, you could deliver me there, offer your apologies to uncle and auntie, then proceed up country later today.’

‘Excellent idea.’

‘But I have my car outside.’

‘Father, I simply refuse to be a passenger in your car, you’re not the greatest of drivers at the best of times. You can tell mother I’ll be along as soon as I can.’

‘Very well.’

‘That was a bit of a shock!’ So said Charlie as we observed her father drive away.

‘Let’s get out of here, we can talk on the way.’

‘Okay.’

‘Go to the mews, work the switch with the cars. You’ll be safer in number one car should you become distracted. I’ll lock the back gate behind you.’

‘Thank goodness you were here. There’s a load of stuff I ought to tell you.’

‘If I had to bet, I’ll be back within forty-eight hours. Still, I’ll phone mother from Checkley, try and assess a bit. They wind each other up, but they always calm down when I’m there. That’s the worst of it. I become the focus of attention, of concern, scapegoating as the therapists used to say. Now I’m doing well, they’re kind of lost. There’s more to this than meets the eye. Fact is, father married above himself, the house was a wedding present from Mum’s family. She made a Will, years ago, leaving what she had to me. She said at the time, it’s not much, just her building society account. She always claimed father could fend for himself. Henry Walpole is right about father, he always went for the money briefs. But I don’t know, and this never occurred to me until I got to know you, and your way of thinking, I wonder if the house isn’t in Mum’s name and he knows it.’

‘Oh, right. Does your father read The Times?’

‘Yes, why?’

‘Well, I think they still print the complete honours list, don’t they?’

‘Oh, God!’

‘Since the award is coming from our community your mother may think she’s lost you for good. No, perhaps that’s over the top. Pointless speculating with so little information.’

‘Oh, I don’t know. When father got keen about my marriage prospects, the thought occurred to me he was thinking of his own future financial wellbeing.’

‘Ha! No, best change the subject.’

Uncle was meek, and mild, when Charlotte explained her predicament. He merely suggested she should eat something and rest up a while. She said she’d phone her mother first. When she joined us again, she declared; ‘Well that’s as clear as mud!’ We all looked up expectantly. ‘She just sounded her usual self, but said she felt like she was at death’s door. I told her father was returning, and I’d be along later, she just replied, “bless you, darling”. You can’t tell sod all. What would you do Tony?’

‘God knows! You could just treat them both as if they were clients coming to you for a treatment. Though I suppose that’s easier said than done.’

‘I’ll sort myself out, then be gone.’

Later that day, uncle called me into the library; ‘Now, sit down young man, I’ve news for you. Might as well tell you whilst Charlotte’s not here, I’ve left all my worldly goods to your aunt. Now what do you make of that?’

‘Sounds like a perfectly rational thing to do.’

‘Which means, in the fullness of time, you’ll cop for the lot.’

‘Yes, but that’s not the beginning and end of it all, is it? I mean, if you drop dead fairly soon, Julia could have quite a long stewardship. I might only inherit at the very end of my life.’

‘Nothing to stop you making useful suggestions, spend as much time here as you like. Charlotte too. You’ve not made a new Will then? Since she came on the scene I mean?’

‘No. Everything goes to the Trust as before, but we have new green terms of reference for what would, is, now more or less, an entirely charitable concern. I don’t need to be worried about Charlie because she is tied to the Trust, she wouldn’t go unsupported if I dropped off the twig. Besides, she’s accumulating savings of her own now. Tell me, does death come in to everything after the age of fifty? Seems to me half my life is tied-up with other people’s Wills!’

‘My dear fellow, had you been born into the landed aristocracy, you’d have found your entire life, from cradle to grave, had been mapped out by the inheritance of previous generations.’

On the second morning, as I was piling a goodly helping of the Checkley plum preserve onto my breakfast toast, I looked up to see Julia giving me a suspicious look. ‘What?’

‘You did that yesterday too.’ She remarked.

‘Well, when the cat’s away. Excellent jam, you’ve not lost your touch.’

‘Don’t thank me, thank Mrs Gregson, I had help.’

My device pinged; ‘It looks like she was right. Forty-eight hours she said. Says she’s leaving now.’

‘Of course, she’s right. She’s always right.’ Said Julia.

‘I beg your pardon! What can you mean?’

‘Well, everyone ends up doing the right thing when she’s around, even you.’

‘Ends-up?’

‘Yes, you start off with some pretty dubious scheme, but by the end of it, it comes right, because of her.’

‘Umm. “Sparkwell, will see you right!” I could market that.’

‘Fatuous, that’s your problem. Have you ever heard Charlotte make a fatuous remark?’

‘Not in public, I suppose.’

‘Well, there you are then.’

I was in the walled garden when Charlie appeared. She stood a moment, looking around. ‘All right?’ I enquired.

‘Yes. By last night they seemed their normal selves, so... You, me, this, the Park, the Villa, it’s so much more real. Mother complimented me on being well dressed, that was a first!’

‘The world is back on it’s right axis then.’

‘Where the sun always rises.’

End of season seven.