Moorcroft - the Possession: Book One of the Moorcroft Trilogy (26 page)

“Thank you Mary.”

He took a notepad and pen from the desk drawer and made a list of tasks to do, no way was he going to let Phillips get his hands on his home. He sat back and drank his coffee and looked out of the window into the yard. He leant forward and looked up at the blue sky, how could a day look so lovely when he had just lost his family? He stood up, no use moaning about it, work to do. He grabbed his coat and strode across the yard shouting for Eddie.

“Can you get Dancing Lady saddled, I’m taking her out.”

He entered the stables and sauntered over to the colt, he whinnied when he saw the mare being taken from her stall. Richard stroked his head and talked soothingly to him, the colt nibbled at his sleeve.

Richard felt cleansed as the wind swept through his hair as he rode Dancing Lady across the fields. He was going to see Bill Walters, the tenant on the bigger of his two remaining farms. Bill was a good farmer and kept everything in order, his stock was good and the fencing and dry stone walls were always kept repaired, he should get a good price for this farm, but Bill wouldn’t be happy. He was welcomed into the farmhouse and offered refreshments and then they were soon in lengthy discussions. The two men stood up and shook hands across the table. Richard went away feeling a little better. It had been decided that Bill would go and see his bank manager the following morning and try to get a mortgage to buy the farm himself. Now Richard must go and see Joe Butcher, he was a different proposition all together. Joe was a cantankerous old man with a chip on his shoulder. He was over retiring age and he would have no inclination to buy his farm. His son had gone off to work in the city where there was more money to be earned. After a long and awkward conversation it was decided, Joe would sell up his stock and his belongings and retire, there was no way he would give his hard earned money to another posh bugger. Richard laughed as he remembered the conversation and made his way back to Moorcroft.

Back home he collected all the necessary deeds and paperwork for each farm and made notes of the acreage and size of each plot then put them in a large envelope and placed them in his safe. In the kitchen he found Mary rolling out pastry.

“Mary, I will be going to town so don’t bother with lunch and if you could make something I could warm up for dinner, you may as well go home. Oh and if you could make my bed before you go I would be most grateful, it’s in a bit of a mess.”

Mary stood looking at the door in amazement; it would seem Master Richard had turned over a new leaf.

He ran upstairs to change, he would go and see some estate agents and get a rough valuation of each farm and make enquiries about auctions. Somehow he must make some quick money and save his home.

Bill Walters came through with the mortgage and he and Richard shook hands over a cup of tea and one of Mary’s scones. It would be several weeks before the money came through but that was one less thing to worry over. He had good feed back from the estate agents, it seemed there was a new fashion of owning your own smallholding and being self sufficient and there had been plenty of interest in the one remaining farm. Richard had decided to auction off Joe’s farm and had stood and watched as car after car made its way down the track to inspect the farmhouse. With a cup of tea in his hand Richard looked across the gardens and spotted a Range Rover approaching the house. The well dressed young man from the auctioneers stood and admired the front of Moorcroft then knocked on the door. Richard showed him into the drawing room. They shook hands.

“You have a lovely house here Mr Gardener, now I could guarantee you a good price if you ever put this up for auction.”

Richard smiled and shook his head. “No thanks, it’s just the farm I’m selling, how does it look?” They looked out of the window.

“We’ve had a good response as you can see from the amount of cars coming up your drive. There are always onlookers just nosing but we have had quite a few offers, I think it will go well for you, having your own farm seems to have become a trend.”

There must have been a dozen or more vehicles parked in front of the house and people began crowding round the rose gardens. The young man turned to Richard with an austere look on his face as he took from his pocket a piece of paper. Richard looked at the man expectantly.

“Mr Gardener on this piece of paper is a sum of money I have been asked to offer you. It is a good offer but if you decline to take it and should the auction not go your way I must take the highest bid even if it does not reach this figure. You do understand that?”

“That offer wouldn’t have come from Reginald Phillips would it?”

“I’m sorry I’m not allowed to say, but it is a close neighbour.”

Richard shook his head. “I think I would rather loose money then hand it over to that man.”

The man smiled. “I think you have made a wise decision, with a little effort I’m sure we could do better, now let’s get on with it. Richard watched from the drawing room window as the young man took a stool from the Range Rover, stood on it and gathered the people around him. He banged a small wooden mallet onto his clipboard and the bidding began.

Richard could hear the bids rising until it hovered around the amount that Phillips had offered. He held his breath as the auctioneer worked the crowd, then another bid was offered and then another. The auctioneer finally brought his hammer down and pointed to a young couple who were hugging each other. Richard breathed a sigh of relief, he had done it. He watched as the cars slowly made their way down the drive and then he spotted Metcalfe’s car. The bastard had been here all the time. Reg Phillips sat beside him and he was not a happy man. Richard threw back his head and laughed.

A few weeks later Richard was in discussions with his mortgage broker and a figure was given to Richard to pay off his mortgage in full. It was a hefty sum but it would safeguard Moorcroft and wipe the smirk of Metcalf’s face. The following Monday morning he finally sat opposite the deceitful man himself. Aubrey Metcalf was finding it hard to look Richard Gardener in the eye and shuffled papers across his desk. He finally looked up and saw the contempt on Richard’s face.

“I’m here to pay off my mortgage.”

This was not good. “Please Mr Gardener don’t be too hasty.”

Richard felt in his pocket for the cheque made out for the full amount and handed it to the horrid man.

Metcalfe looked at the figure and tapped away at his computer. He smiled. “I’m afraid this will not be enough.”

Richard stiffened, what game was he playing now? “What, but I was here the other day and was told this figure would be it, the final payment.”

“That was over a week ago, since then you have incurred more interest.”

Richard scowled. “How much more?”

Metcalfe smiled. “The kingly sum of four hundred and thirty five pounds, to be exact.”

Richard grimaced. “That’s extortionate.” He took a cheque book from his inside pocket. Metcalfe noticed it was an opposing bank. Richard took out his pen and wrote out the cheque and handed it to Metcalfe. His hand shook as he took the piece of paper. Richard stood up and lent across the desk and faced him only inches away.

“I will make sure you pay for this treachery Metcalfe, mark my words.”

Aubrey Metcalfe felt the bile rising as he watched Richard leave his office.

Richard stood outside the bank and looked up to the sky and took in a deep breath. At last Moorcroft was safe, no more debts to pay off, now all he had to do was pay for day to day living, how hard could that be?

Back at Moorcroft he wandered from room to room. He thought he would feel different now that he no longer had to worry about it, but nothing had changed, in fact he felt deflated. He had this big house and no one to share it with. He sat on the settee and wept for Victoria. There was a knock on the door and Mary entered with a tray.

“I heard you come in the back door and thought you might like a cup of tea and a piece of cake, made fresh this morning.”

Richard smiled at her. “Mary how come you never married?”

She blushed. “Well I almost did some years back, but the week before our wedding he was made redundant and the wedding was called off. He was a very proud man see and refused to live off my wages. We could have managed, just about, but he would have none of it.”

“So, what happened?”

“He packed his things and went down South to look for work, he wrote regular every week, and then the letters stopped. I never heard from him again.”

“Oh Mary I’m so sorry, but surely you must have met other men?”

“Oh yes sir, I did my fare share of courting but it was never the same and I for one wouldn’t settle for second best.”

Richard lowered his head. “Yes I know what you mean.”

Mary nodded and quietly left the room.

In the study Richard picked up the phone and dialled the number in front of him. It rang several times and he was about to put the receiver down when he heard a woman’s voice. “Is that Joan Wesley?”

“Yes, how can I help you?”

“This is Richard Gardener, may I speak to Sarah?”

There was a long silence and a sigh before she answered. “I was sorry to hear of your mother’s death, you have my sincere sympathies.”

“Thank you, but I need to speak to Sarah if that’s alright.”

“I’m sorry Richard but they don’t live here any more.”

“Well can I have their address or phone number?”

“No, you see after the funeral Sarah was taken ill again and had to be put back on medication, we were all so worried about her. When they moved back into their own home Charles forbade me to pass over any details to you. He doesn’t want Sarah upset again. I’m sure when she is well enough she will contact you again. I’m sorry Richard.” The phone went dead.

####

For several days Richard locked himself away in the study feeling sorry for himself. He relived over and over again Victoria’s death and each time he came back to the same conclusion. Sarah was the only one chasing her that fateful morning. He understood that Sarah had loved her dearly and would not deliberately harm her but he had seen events with his own eyes. Why was Sarah chasing her, why was Victoria so scared that she was running away, why did Sarah insist that someone else was involved when there was no one else in the house? He knew that he was wrong to stop her from returning to Moorcroft, he could see that now that he was sober, but Victoria was still lost to him and he didn’t know why. He knew that he must speak to Sarah and sort things out, but he didn’t know how to find her. In the end it was Mary who gave him the solution.

Night after night he had the same bad dream, watching the horse rear and Victoria falling. He would reach out his arms to catch her, shouting her name and then he would wake up in a cold sweat. It was on such a night when he was in the kitchen making himself a coffee when he spotted a book that Mary had left on the table. It was one of those mystery thrillers. On the front cover was the picture of a man in a trench coat and trilby, a cigarette hanging from his mouth. That was it, first thing in the morning he would look for a detective agency, there must be some around. That night he slept soundly for the first time in weeks.

Richard looked at the address he had written down on a piece of paper. He was in the right street but he couldn’t see any signs for Parker Investigations. Half way down the street he noticed several plaques on a wall by a green door. The third one down was the agency. He pressed the buzzer and he heard the door click. He pushed it open and walked inside and found a flight of stairs in front of him, to the left on the wall was a sign, the agency was on the third floor. He looked around for the lift, there wasn’t one so slowly he climbed the stairs. At the top he took a rest before looking at each door for the agency. He knocked and walked in. A short fat man sat behind a desk, he looked like anything but a detective. He was on the phone and beckoned Richard into the office. He wondered if he had made a mistake. The man put down the phone and stood up and offered Richard his hand, it was cold and sweaty. “Mr Gardener?”

Richard nodded.

“Please take a seat. Now, what can I do for you?”

Richard handed him the envelope containing the photograph of Sarah and the address of the Wesley’s. “I need you to locate this young woman. I just want her address.”

He studied the picture. “What is your connection to this woman?”

“She’s my sister, we’ve had a row and now I’d like to make it up, but I don’t know where to find her.”

“Should I mention your name, if I contact her?”

“No. I just need to know where she lives, that’s all.”

The man rhymed off a long list of rules and regulations that he had to abide by and finally, his fee, before shaking hands and walking Richard to the door. That was it, now he just had to wait.

He still took Dancing Lady out everyday to give her some exercise but now he didn’t have the land to stretch her so he went to see Bill Walters. He was greeted like an old friend and Richard could see that Bill had already started to put his own mark on the property. Over a beer he thanked Richard for giving him the opportunity to own his own farm; Richard feeling embarrassed thanked him for getting him out of a hole and an agreement was made that Richard could exercise his horse on Bill’s land at any time. Richard walked away happy, knowing he had made a friend that day. He decided that Eddie would have to go, now that he had plenty of time on his hands he would be able to muck out the stables and tend to the exercise of Dancing Lady and her colt. His bank balance was dwindling now he had no income from the land. Eddie wasn’t too happy with the news but understood Richard’s reasoning and he would get a good payout and a glowing reference. Eddie was sad to be leaving Moorcroft but things had never been the same since Victoria’s death. The horses kept Richard busy, they became his life and an excuse to visit Bill Walters, he missed male company and a chance to talk.