A Question of Inheritance (3 page)

Hugo knew all about that. Those people were responsible for issuing the certificates that declared an individual to be free of connections to the Nazi Party, and so enable the person to get a job. Fighting in the German Army was acceptable; being connected with the Nazi Party, SS or Gestapo wasn’t.

Orlov had lowered his voice to a low rumble. ‘I won’t go into details about how I came by the information, but I discovered that this officer was issuing the certificates of clearance in return for things like the bronzes. He mostly dealt in works of art, paintings, and so on. Which he would then get back to England and sell. He didn’t want them for himself, which is why he was happy to sell the bronzes to me, no questions asked.’

A shiver ran down Hugo’s spine. This was treachery. Letting war criminals go free was unforgivable in any circumstances, and for a British officer to be involved . . .

‘Can you give me proof?’

‘I can give you nothing.’

‘A name, then.’

Orlov shook his head. ‘No. That you have to find out for yourself.’ He laughed, a deep bass laugh. ‘Don’t look so angry. We deal with quid pro quos, do we not? There is nothing you can give me in exchange. I’ve already made you a gift of this much information. It won’t be difficult for you to find out who the man is. And then he will be dealt with and a stop put to the despicable scheme he is running.’

Scene 7

Freya cycled slowly back up to the Castle. The battery in her lamp was running out and the light was no more than a dim glow in the shifting mist. She hoped she wouldn’t meet any vehicles coming the other way. But once she turned through the gates and was going up the drive, she came out of the mist and into the clear, frosty air of a December evening. The stars sparkled in the sky, even though the moon, nearly full, hung bright on the horizon.

She peddled into the stable yard, wheeled her bicycle under cover and went across to say hello to her horse, an ugly piebald called Last Hurrah. She fished a sugar lump out of her pocket and he took it from her palm. She hooked her arm over his neck and laid her face against him for a moment. ‘I’ll take you out tomorrow, I promise.’

That was another problem, what was she going to do with Last Hurrah? She didn’t think the new Earl was planning to keep horses, and he wouldn’t want Last Hurrah there. She’d have to keep him in livery at the stables in town. He’d hate that. Horses were supposed to be herd creatures, but Last Hurrah had never heard that rule. He tolerated Magnus, her cat, and that was about his limit.

Freya went across the courtyard. Light from the kitchen was spilling out on to the cobbles. She pushed open the door and walked along the passage and into the kitchen.

It was a haven of light and warmth. Georgia Hawksworth was sitting at the table in her gymslip, cutting strips of coloured paper to make paper chains. She looked up as Freya came in. ‘I’m too old for this kind of thing really, but Mrs Partridge said we ought to make an effort to decorate the house. She says we should have a Christmas tree.’

Freya sat down at the table and reached out for the scissors. She said, ‘I’ll cut and you paste. Of course we’re going to have a Christmas tree, Ben’s seeing to it. It will go in the Great Hall. Somewhere there are boxes of candles for the tree. Do you know where they are, Mrs P?’

Mrs Partridge took a tray of scones out of the oven in the big range and tapped them with a knuckle. ‘Nasty dangerous things those candles. They drip wax and like as not will set fire to the tree. They could burn the whole place down and then what will his new lordship do?’

Georgia said, ‘Take himself off somewhere else, I hope.’

‘Do try to be polite to him, Georgia,’ Freya said. ‘He’s a nice man and it’s hard for him to come into all this.’

Georgia gave her a scornful look. ‘If I’d just inherited a title and buckets of money and a castle full of pictures and treasures and masses of land and all the rest of it, I wouldn’t deserve sympathy from anyone. I hope he has some moral sense and feels bad about casting us out into the snow.’

Freya said, ‘There isn’t any snow. And you’re staying here until Christmas is over, and by then we’ll have found somewhere for you and Hugo to go.’ She paused and then went on, ‘Where is Hugo? He said he’d be back early.’

Georgia pressed the ends of a recalcitrant link together and said, ‘He telephoned. Something came up but he promised he’d be here in time. Sir Bernard’s bringing him back. I suppose he wants to suck up to the new Earl.’

Mrs Partridge said, ‘That’s enough of that, Georgia. Sir Bernard will be here as a trustee. That’s quite right and proper. And it’ll be tea in the library, so you finish up with those chains and you can help me do the trays.’

Georgia said, ‘Oh, so the new Lord Selchester is so toffee-nosed he can’t have tea in the kitchen? And he’s bringing two horrible daughters with him. I dare say they have awful manners. Americans do.’

Freya said, ‘They’ll have lovely manners, much better than yours and they aren’t horrible at all.’ She silently rebuked herself because she hadn’t been impressed at all with the eldest daughter. ‘Polly’s about your age. She’ll be a friend for you.’ She could have bitten her tongue the moment she’d said her words. Georgia cast her a venomous look. She winced. ‘Okay, okay; I didn’t say that.’

Georgia said, ‘Fortunately, being an Earl’s daughter, being Lady Whatever she is, she’ll get sent off to some posh boarding school so at least we won’t have her hanging round the town.’

‘I’m not sure what Lord Selchester’s plans for her are.’

Mrs Partridge pursed her lips. ‘It’s strange to hear you talk about him as Lord Selchester.’

Georgia said firmly, ‘I shall always think that the only true Lord Selchester is the bundle of bones that was dug up in the Old Chapel. This one I shall think of as a kind of imposter.’ Her face brightened. ‘Perhaps he’ll get murdered, too. That would be fun.’

‘None of that nonsense,’ Mrs Partridge said. ‘He’s Lord Selchester and there’s an end of it.’

Georgia screwed the lid on the paste pot and stood up. She spoke in mincing BBC tones. ‘Lord Selchester and his daughters Lady Barbara and Lady Pauline.’ Then she reverted to her usual voice. ‘Ugh. Well, perhaps the ghosts will make them think twice about living here. I’ll take their young ladyships to the spot where the last Earl met his grisly fate and tell them he haunts the Castle.’

Scene 8

Hugo climbed awkwardly out of Sir Bernard’s Rover. He paused, listening, just catching the sound of a distant car. That was probably Lord Selchester. Sir Bernard had parked in front of the house and Hugo, finding the front door unlocked, heaved it open and stood back for Sir Bernard to go in. To the kitchen? No, Freya would have asked Mrs Partridge to serve tea in the library.

He was right. Georgia was sitting on a pouffe by the fire, giving the logs angry stabs with a poker. Her long legs were tucked up underneath her, and she had a discontented look on her face, which boded ill for her reception of the new owner of the Castle. One glance at her face warned Hugo not to say anything. If she was rude, so be it. She might not be; if he said anything, she was sure to react badly. Mrs Partridge was setting out cups on a table standing between two of the deep windows.

‘Best china, Mrs P?’ Hugo said.

‘That’s right. I’m just going now to pop the kettle on and I’ll bring in the tea. Freya said she heard a car, but I suppose that was you. Good evening, Sir Bernard.’

Hugo said, ‘There was another car coming up to the Castle. I think it’s probably Selchester and his family.’

At that very moment the bell at the main door pealed. They all looked at one another. Freya said, ‘Don’t worry, Mrs P. I’d better go.’

Without waiting for any of the others to follow her, she went out. Georgia said, ‘I’m not going to jump up and go to greet them.’

Hugo went over and picked up another log to throw on the fire. ‘Just as well. Did you know you’ve got a whacking hole in your stocking? You look thoroughly disreputable; you’ll have to mend that for school tomorrow.’

Georgia said, ‘I won’t. We broke up today, don’t you remember? I don’t have to wear these horrible old school stockings until I go back to school so it doesn’t matter them having a hole.’

Her eyes were defiant but her face was anxious. He grinned at her. ‘Cheer up, old thing, I’m sure they won’t be too bad.’

Georgia renewed her efforts with poker, ‘I just wish they’d be not too bad somewhere else.’

Scene 9

Babs and Polly got out of the car, and Gus came to stand beside them as they stared, as if spellbound, at the dark bulk of the Castle looming over them, the battlements shadowy in the moonlight.

The castle seemed to grow out of the hillside: immense and threatening, wrapped in the silence of the countryside.

An owl hooted, startling them as it flew by on white wings.

‘I never thought it would be anything like this,’ Polly said.

Nor had Gus. ‘We’ll get used to it.’

‘They say prisoners get used to prison,’ Babs said. She shivered. ‘Let’s hope they have some heating.’

‘It’ll be log fires and draughts,’ Polly said.

‘It’ll be fine,’ Gus assured them. ‘We’ll soon feel quite at home.’

Babs looked at him with scorn. ‘Whatever this place is, it isn’t home.’

Scene 10

Voices, distant and then growing nearer, and the door opened. Freya ushered in the new Lord Selchester and his two daughters. There was a moment’s silence as the people in the room surveyed the newcomers and the newcomers looked at them, at the room, and then, with a kind of alarm, at one another.

Georgia’s eyes were fixed on Polly. She had round spectacles, thick dark hair tied in plaits and an expression almost as truculent as Georgia’s own. Polly’s sister was eyeing the men appraisingly. Her eyes lingered for a moment on Hugo and then she relaxed back into a look of deliberate boredom. Hugo, taking in her black clothes and black-rimmed eyes, remembered that she’d been spending some time in Paris. It looked like rather than spending her time visiting the galleries and acquiring chic she had fallen in with a bunch of existentialists.

Freya introduced them. ‘Gus, this is Sir Bernard. He was one of my uncle’s trustees. You know Hugo Hawksworth, and this is his sister, Georgia.’

The men shook hands and Georgia glowered at the Fitzwarin family.

‘These are my daughters,’ Lord Selchester said. ‘Barbara and Pauline. Babs and Polly.’

Polly drew slightly apart from the others and stared at Georgia.

Exactly like a pair of cats eyeing one another, looking as though at any moment they’d fly at each other in a flurry of claws and yowls. Hugo shut his eyes for a moment, wishing that his sister had an easier temperament.

As if on cue, a large tabby cat stalked in through the open door. He looked around the room with an air of ownership and strolled over to the fireplace. He went up to Georgia, and the angry look left her face as she stretched out a hand to rub the fur between his ears.

Polly said, ‘Hey, that’s one big cat.’ She went over to the fireplace, dropped on to her knees and began to stroke the cat along its back.

Georgia said, ‘Magnus doesn’t like strangers.’

Polly said, ‘I like cats. And they usually like me.’

Georgia said, ‘Cats usually go to people who hate them or who get asthma from them.’

Mrs Partridge came in with a tray. Not only the best china, but a silver teapot and jug and sugar basin instead of the Brown Betty that did service in the kitchen.

Freya said, ‘This is Mrs Partridge, who runs the place and looks after us all.’

‘Good evening, your lordship. And this must be Lady Barbara and Lady Pauline. Welcome to the Castle.’

Hugo could see Barbara and Polly thinking, She won’t run us.

That wouldn’t be a problem. Mrs Partridge had no intention of staying on at the Castle. ‘Not with Miss Freya going. I only came to help out when his late lordship went missing and that was seven years ago, so enough is enough.’

‘You’ll miss the Castle after all this time.’

No. Mrs Partridge had a sensible outlook on life. ‘Nothing goes on forever. I’m glad in a way that there’s going to be a new lordship, but he’ll prefer to make his own arrangements and I dare say will be wanting more staff.’

Tea was a slightly awkward affair, and when it had finished Sir Bernard took himself off, much to Hugo’s relief. ‘Good to meet you, Selchester, and we’ll be seeing more of each other. It’s a small place. Hugo, I’m off first thing in the morning. I’ll see you in the New Year. You aren’t Duty Officer, are you?’

‘No, Roger Bailey drew the short straw.’

‘Good. Don’t worry, Freya, I’ll show myself out, I know the way. A happy Christmas to you all.’

As the door closed behind him, Barbara said, to no one in particular, ‘I suppose he’s your typical English gent. All stiff upper lip and that kind of thing.’

She lapsed back into her dark silence, no doubt pondering over the meaning of meaning.

Hugo and Freya exchanged a quick look and then Freya said brightly, ‘Let me take you up to your rooms. Of course, it’s up to you to decide where you want to be, but Mrs Partridge and I made up the beds for you somewhere where we think you’ll be most comfortable.’ She hesitated and went on, ‘As it’s dark now, perhaps you’d rather leave doing a tour of the Castle until the morning. It’s quite badly lit in a lot of the passages, and rather cold.’

They trooped out of the room. Hugo thought that Georgia was going to stay put, but at the last moment she clambered up and followed them out. Polly looked her up and down. ‘You’re awfully tall. How old are you?’

‘Thirteen.’

‘So am I,’ Polly said.

They came to the Great Hall, and Freya flicked the lights on. Lord Selchester looked stunned. Hugo was used to the antlered stags’ heads, the shields on the wall and two suits of armour standing on guard on either side of the huge stone fireplace, with the Fitzwarin crest carved above it, but he could remember his astonishment when he’d first seen it.

‘Oh, my,’ Polly said. ‘It’s like something out of a horror movie.’

Hugo knew how she felt. He wouldn’t be surprised to see Count Dracula perched on one of the arched beams high above their heads.