Family Secrets (6 page)

“Yes,
and I’ve got a few other calls to make too. Things that I postponed in order to come here.” He stretched out his hand.

“I
hope we can part on good terms.”

She
took his hand and caught her breath at the contact. “Absolutely. I’m grateful to you for looking out for my grandmother,” she told him. It felt as if her hand was being scorched. “The kettles’ boiling,” she said and turned away, her heart heavy.

Chapter Five

The following morning Rhianna accompanied Lawrence to the cottage. There was still an official presence - presumably, the CID Rhianna decided - and so they weren’t allowed in.

“We’ll
be finished in a day or so. I’m afraid it’s in a bit of a mess, but there’s no structural damage,” one of the men said.

“Poor
Letitia. It seems to be one thing after another,” Rhianna said, feeling a surge of sympathy for her grandmother.

“Certainly
does,” Lawrence agreed. “Well, there’s not much point hanging around here, is there? Nothing we can do for the moment.”

She
shook her head and stood for a minute looking at the whitewashed cottage with its green shutters. The flower borders were a mass of snowdrops and yellow crocuses and already green daffodil spikes were poking through the soil.

“It’s
very picturesque, isn’t it?”

Lawrence
had a faraway look in his eye.

“Yes,
you should just see it in the summer when the roses are climbing up that trellis. It’s enchanting then. Absolutely chocolate box.”

“I
can imagine.” She hesitated and then said in a rush, “I’ve arranged to see Letitia this afternoon. Perhaps I’ll take a walk before then – unless, didn’t you say you intended to look at some properties this morning?”

“Yeah
– why, do you fancy coming with me?” Lawrence seemed pleased. “You’d get to see a bit more of Brookhurst that way.”

“Why
not?” She tried to sound casual. “I’m only sorry that I can’t help with the clearing up here, but I’ve told Fiona I’ll be returning on Wednesday at the latest. We’ve got a workshop on Friday. I’ve no idea how she’s set it up so quickly, but that’s Fiona for you.”

“What
sort of workshop?” He appeared genuinely interested.

“Pottery
decorating. It’s the school’s half-term. We’ve had one before and it proved popular. The children choose plates, mugs or dishes all in plain white and then they personalise them. It’s good fun.”

“Sounds
it. I’m all for anything creative and hands on for youngsters. It’s far better than them being stuck in front of a computer all day.”

“Absolutely,”
she agreed. “They leave their stuff with us for a couple of days to finish off in the kiln and then it’s ready to use. The kiddies come with their parents who seem to enjoy it equally as much.”

Lawrence
looked thoughtful. “And do they just turn up or must they book?”

“Some
do but it’s pretty informal. We have several sessions so if one’s full they wait for the next. Actually, it’s a bit chaotic.” She laughed. “Noisy and messy.”

“I’m
full of admiration. You girls certainly have a wealth of ideas.”

She
grinned. “We have to – it’s a question of survival. We don’t charge much per head. It’s a lot cheaper than buying things from the shops. The children might like to make something for a present. We’ve got
Mothers’
Day
and
Easter
coming up soon.”

“Don’t
worry about the cleaning at the cottage,” he told her as they reached the car. “I’ll ask Ron. He’s bound to have some contacts. I’ll sort it out. It’s unfortunate poor Tish chose the wrong tenants.”

This
time he took a different route. It was very scenic in spite of the time of the year. The hedgerows had quantities of evergreen ivy and old man’s beard clinging to them. Here and there a scarlet hip remained undiscovered by the birds. Suddenly, he slowed down to allow some riders to pass.

“There’s
a riding school over there. And there are quite a few farms dotted about. Which reminds me - we could stop at the local farm shop on the way back. I’ll give Tish a ring – see if she wants any supplies.”

“Are
you planning to stay in Brookhurst for a while longer?”

She tried to make the question sound casual.

He
shook his head. “No, I’m afraid I can’t. Family commitments - I’ve promised to return home by the end of the week. But I’ll be back to see Tish from time to time…What have you decided?”

“Oh,
I imagine I’ll be spending quite a bit of time here in the future. I’m not going to drop Letitia. She’s a lovely lady. Besides, there’s a lot I need to find out about in this area. I haven’t even had a chance to look at my ancestors’ graves yet. So, Brookhurst will feature quite prominently in my life from now on.”

Lawrence
smiled. “That’s great. I hoped you’d say that.”

She
felt a warm glow inside her and hoped he meant it. She stole a glance at him liking the way his chestnut hair fell across his brow and noting his strong profile.

“Letitia
and I have such a lot of catching up to do…Do you suppose she might like to see the gallery?” she asked presently.

He
nodded. “She most probably would, but I think you need to take things slowly. Letitia hasn’t left Brookhurst for more than the occasional day for several years now.”

“Mmm,
I’d thought of that. It is possible to do Herts in a day but it would be quite tiring - oh, goodness there’s a pheasant in that field!”

He
shot a look at her. “You’re obviously a girl after my own heart. You enjoy the countryside?”

“I
certainly do – now where are these properties you’ve brought me to see?”

“There’s
one just round here somewhere. It’s a bit further out than I’d thought, but we’ll take a look whilst we’re here. I haven’t got an appointment but, apparently, it’s OK just to turn up.”

They
walked along a muddy lane and eventually came across the house which appeared rather neglected. Lawrence looked at it in dismay.

“Well,
I was told it was in need of some refurbishment but it looks more run down than I expected.”

He
rang the bell and a dog started barking. After a while, the door was flung open by a large woman with iron-grey hair, wearing a grubby apron and clutching a rolling pin.

“Yes?”
she asked abruptly.

“We
wondered if it was convenient to look round your house?” Lawrence asked politely.

The
woman scowled. “No, it is not and I’ll tell you for why. My daughter persuaded us to put it on the market, but we’ve changed our minds. We withdrew it this morning – isn’t that right, Alf?”

A
small wizened little man, wearing a multi-coloured, woollen hat, came to stand beside his wife. He solemnly nodded, but didn’t say a word. Rhianna bit her lip to prevent herself from giggling.

“Well,
we’re so sorry to have troubled you,” Lawrence said pleasantly.

“Right.
Good-day to you.” And the woman practically slammed the door shut in their faces.

It was too much for Rhianna who, seeing the amusement in Lawrence’s eyes, gave a whoop of laughter. “He looked like a little garden gnome,” she spluttered and he joined in.

“I was a bit worried about that rolling pin,” he said, wiping his eyes. “Do you suppose she uses it to keep her husband in check?”

This set Rhianna laughing again. It eased the tension she’d been feeling for the past few days. She was enjoying Lawrence’s company more that she could have imagined.

The
garden path was muddy and, at one point, she slipped and would have fallen, but Lawrence caught her arm and retained it. The contact was electric and she caught her breath, wondering if he were aware of it too.

When
they arrived back at the car Lawrence said, “There is one other property I can view on the way back to Brookhurst. I know the owners and I’ve got a proper appointment this time - for eleven o’clock.”

Jill
and Tom Yates were very different from the previous couple.

“You’re
Letitia’s grand-daughter. Well, that’s one in the eye for Tina,” Jill remarked, as they sat over coffee in the elegant but minimally furnished sitting-room.

“Why
would you say that?” Rhianna asked, startled.

“Oh,
I should have thought that was obvious. You’re the official next of kin - so you stand to inherit
Wisteria
Lodge
and everything that goes with it.”

There
was a shocked silence and then Tom said, “You must excuse my wife’s bluntness, Rhianna. I’m afraid Tina rather blotted her copy book - as far as Jill was concerned - as Lawrence knows.”

Lawrence
chose to ignore this comment. He drained his cup and looked pointedly at the clock.

“Well,
we’d better press on,” Tom said taking the hint. “Let’s start with the kitchen, shall we?”

Rhianna
followed in a daze. Did everyone think the same as Jill - that she had an ulterior motive for tracking down her grandmother - ultimate financial gain? Was that what Lawrence thought too?

“I’m
surprised you’re thinking of moving back here,” Jill said, as they stood looking at the beautifully appointed but very clinical kitchen in white and stainless steel.

“Oh,
I think Brookhurst has got a certain charm all of its own,” he told her. “Anyway, I’ve made a lot of friends here.”

Presently, as they wandered round the landscaped garden, Lawrence said, “The problem is that nothing will ever compare with the cottage. It was perfect.”

“And
you really wouldn’t consider living there again?”

His
face had a closed expression. “No, there are too many memories.”

She
nodded, realising that he didn’t want to talk about it. Lawrence told the Yates that he’d been in touch and they retraced their steps to the car.

“Let’s
get one thing straight, Lawrence,” Rhianna told him as she buckled up her seat belt. “I’m not a gold-digger. I didn’t visit my grandmother in the hopes she’d leave me anything. For all I knew she was a pauper.”

“She’s
hardly that, but she’s not wealthy either.” He squeezed her arm. “You mustn’t mind Jill. She speaks her mind, and I suppose it is a pretty unusual situation you turning up out of the blue like this.”

Rhianna
had to agree. “But the point is that Letitia contacted me and not the other way round.”

“Yes,
I realise that and, eventually everyone else will too.”

On
the way back, Lawrence pointed out the farm shop and, seeing there was a café, Rhianna had an idea.

“I
wonder if Letitia would like a spin out this afternoon - then she could select her own produce and I could take her for tea.”

“That’s
a wonderful idea. I’d offer to join you but I’ve arranged to see a mate of Ron’s who’s got a problem with his computer.”

When
they arrived back at
The
White
Unicorn
, Rhianna looked at her watch.

“Have
you got time for a quick lunch – my treat?”

To
her secret delight he agreed and they sat in at a quiet corner table enjoying bowls of steaming soup and chunks of crusty bread.

“So
what shall I tell Letitia about the cottage?” she asked, breaking off a piece of bread.

“Oh,
just say it’s all in hand so she’s no need to worry. I’ll explain everything tomorrow when I call to see her. Can’t be specific but it’ll be sometime in the afternoon.”

He
leant towards her and lowered his voice.

“Rhianna,
that picture your grandmother asked you about – the portrait of Anna Soames…”

She
looked at him spoon poised. “What about it? If you know something tell me, because I’ve got a feeling it holds a clue to a lot of things I don’t understand.”

He
helped himself to more bread. “Yes, I’m sure you’re right, but I’m afraid I don’t know any more than you - except your grandmother is most anxious that you keep it safe.”

“Why?
Whatever can be so important about it? She can have the wretched thing for all I care. Do you know who painted it?”

He
had a good idea but preferred not to say anything until he was sure.

“Tish
doesn’t want the painting at
Wisteria
Lodge
. She thinks it’s best if you keep it in your possession for the time-being.”

Rhianna
was suddenly tired of the whole affair.

“I’ve
a good mind to get rid of it,” she told him.

“No
– no don’t do that,” he said more loudly than he intended - so that people on the next table looked in their direction.

They
lapsed into silence and then he said quietly. “Rhianna, if ever you feel in trouble, feel free to ring me. You can reach me on my mobile.”