Swansea Summer (27 page)

‘Your grandmother wanted you to inherit her estate to ensure the house remained in the family. She took great comfort in the thought that one day you would take your grandfather’s place as head of the household. And she did make provision for your sister. Your Aunt Julie’s estate is not as substantial as your grandmother’s but it is not insignificant either.’ Gathering the papers together, Richard returned them to his briefcase.

‘And my mother?’

‘Your grandmother was aware of the generous divorce settlement your father has made her.’ Richard offered Joe a cigar. ‘Some things can wait but I would like to discuss this house with you. Have you thought what you’re going to do with it?’

‘Live in it.’

‘Immediately?’

Joe shook his head. ‘Not immediately. I have my finals and then there’s the job at the BBC …’

‘Then may I suggest you rent it out on a short-term lease, say six months to start with, renewable every three months after the initial contract? That would give you an income sufficient to take care of the overheads on the place, plus money to set aside to finance any repairs over the next few years. It would also enable you to reclaim the house and move in at three months’ notice.’

‘Wouldn’t it be difficult to find tenants who’ll agree to those terms?’ Joe tried to pretend he was enjoying the cigar. He wasn’t, it tasted bitter and not at all as he’d imagined an expensive cigar would.

‘No, this is a prestigious property. In fact, I received an enquiry from someone this morning. I’m not at liberty to say who it was as yet, but I assure you the party is wealthy, respectable and well thought of in the literary world. Would you like me to go ahead and see if I can close the deal?’

Joe thought for a moment. It would be months, possibly even years, before he would be in a position to take possession of the house. ‘Yes, please.’

‘Now that’s done you should celebrate your new status as one of the wealthiest young men in Swansea. I could introduce you to my club.’

‘No, thank you, Mr Thomas.’

‘You have another appointment?’

‘I’d like to look around the house for a while.’

‘I understand. It’s difficult to take in all at once. I’ll wait for you.’

‘I’d rather you didn’t,’ Joe said resolutely.

‘You’ll have to get home.’

‘The telephone is still connected. I’ll call one of my friends when I’m ready.’

Resenting his dismissal, Richard handed Joe a file. ‘Your papers. Go through them carefully and if there’s anything you don’t understand I will explain it to you.’

Joe took them. ‘Thank you, Mr Thomas.’

‘I’ll see you soon, Joseph.’ Richard opened the door that connected the morning room to the hall. He’d hoped to avoid Esme, but she was hovering at the front door, brandy glass in hand, obviously waiting for him and Joseph to finish their business.

Setting down her glass, she refilled it, slowly and deliberately, with a large measure before opening the cupboard and handing him his coat and hat. He took them, checked the level in the brandy bottle, which had been full before the funeral, and left.

Chapter Fifteen

Joe opened the French windows of the morning room and stepped out on to the terrace. The stone Victorian planters were bright with masses of red and white tulips and the red, white and pink buds on the rhododendrons and azaleas that filled the shrubberies bordering the garden were coming into bloom. The lawns had been cut, dressed and spiked ready for summer. His grandmother’s orders? Or had the gardener continued to work to the best of his capabilities in the hope that the new owner would keep him on?

He looked down at the beach and imagined walking there with Lily, and later their children. Throwing balls for the children and sticks for the dog. The floppy-eared golden retriever he had always wanted and his mother had never allow him to have …

‘Congratulations, Joseph.’

He turned to see Esme standing behind him. ‘That seems to be an inappropriate word to use on the day of grandmother’s funeral.’

‘Even when she’s made you a very wealthy young man?’ She picked a few wrinkled brown leaves from the ivy that climbed past the French windows to the first-floor balcony. ‘You’ll be needing a housekeeper. I could stay on, supervise a daily and look after the place for you.’

‘Mr Thomas advised me to lease it until I’m ready to live here myself.’

‘Lease this house!’ She couldn’t have been more shocked if he’d suggested burning it down.

‘On a renewable contract. He explained that I could reclaim it at three months’ notice whenever I wish. He has a tenant in mind.’

‘And when this tenant wrecks the furniture, ruins the decor …’

‘I intend to change it when I finally move in,’ he cut her short. ‘Until then, leasing it out will give me an income to cover the overheads and pay for any repairs that need doing.’

‘It’s easy to see who you’ve been talking to. You even sound like Richard Thomas.’

‘He
is
our family solicitor.’

‘And like him, all you see when you look at this house is an “investment” property to be milked for even more money for your overflowing coffers.’

Joe looked out over the bay to the glittering sea. ‘It means a lot more than that and I’d like to live here one day but not as it is. It’s decorated to grandmother’s taste, not mine.’

‘It’s full of things, mine, your grandparents’ …’

‘Take whatever you like.’

She froze as realisation dawned. ‘When is this tenant moving in?’

‘As soon as it can be arranged. I’ve told Mr Thomas to go ahead.’

‘And where am I supposed to go?’ Her eyes blazed furiously.

He recalled what Richard Thomas had told him about his grandmother ensuring his mother was well provided for. ‘You have the divorce settlement and the monthly allowance Dad … John Griffiths has made you.’

‘You consider that enough? After you’ve just been left my mother’s entire estate?’

‘Mr Thomas …’

‘To hell with bloody Richard Thomas.’

He moved away from her, hitting his back against the balustrade. It was the first time he had heard her swear. Then he saw her sway and realised she had been drinking. ‘Mr Thomas told me grandmother wanted me to inherit her estate to ensure the house remained in the family.’

‘And the generation in between your grandmother and you?’

‘I don’t know what happened between you and grandmother …’

‘You happened between me and my mother,’ Esme interrupted bitterly.

‘I didn’t ask to be born.’

As he uttered the stock phrase of the peeved child, Esme’s face contorted into pure hatred. ‘If your father had been allowed his way you wouldn’t have been. I should have listened to him …’

‘Who was he?’ A cloud blocked out the sun, snatching the warmth of the afternoon light from the terrace. He shivered as the temperature dropped.

‘Isn’t it obvious? The man who made damned sure you inherited everything my mother had to give. The man who looked after your trust fund …’

‘Richard Thomas is my father?’

‘I … I …’

‘Richard Thomas!’

The impact of Joe’s disgust mitigated the effect of the brandy. Esme opened her mouth but, stunned by the intensity of Joe’s revulsion, no words came.

‘Richard Thomas is old enough to be my grandfather. He was probably older than your father. He was your godfather …’

‘I was only eighteen,’ she whispered hoarsely. ‘I went to a convent school. We weren’t told anything about men or life in those days. Richard knew that and took advantage of me. I was upset, lonely, my father had just died … Joseph …’ Too late Esme realised she was calling to his back as he ran away from her down to the beach.

*……*……*

‘Lily! Over here!’

Lily looked around as she left the bank but couldn’t see anyone she knew until the passenger door of a red sports car parked in front of her swung open and Joe leaned out. ‘Come for a drive.’

‘Joe, I can’t …’

‘Please, Lily, I’ve had a foul day,’ he pleaded desperately. ‘I need to talk to someone and you know me better than anyone else. Just half an hour,’ he begged. When she didn’t step any closer, he added, ‘Is Martin so terrified you’ll run off that he won’t even allow you to talk to your friends?’

‘Of course not. He’s just sensitive about my seeing you.’

‘I only wish he had cause to be. Please’ – he looked at her through anguished eyes – ‘if you never talk to me again, spare me a few minutes now.’

She had never seen Joe so fraught or distressed. ‘Just a drive?’

‘Even if I wanted to make it more, I’ve had such a disgusting day that I’m not up to anything else.’

‘I should have remembered. Jack said your grandmother’s funeral was today. I’m so sorry, Joe, I meant to write a condolence letter to you and Helen …’

‘Stop apologising and get in.’

Waving goodbye to a couple of the girls who worked with her and wishing the car weren’t quite so flamboyant, Lily finally climbed in, bundling her wide skirt and petticoats around her legs so they wouldn’t bunch round the gear stick. ‘Has your father changed his car?’

‘For this?’ He shook his head as he drove off. ‘Nice thought, but unfortunately not. I borrowed it from Robin on the off chance you’d come with me.’

‘To where?’

‘Somewhere we can talk.’

‘You must have a place in mind.’ She untied the scarf she was wearing from round her neck and placed it over her head, knotting it beneath her chin in the hope of saving her French pleat from disintegrating in the breeze that whipped across the open top of the car.

‘How about Langland?’ He drove past the Guildhall and out on to the Mumbles Road.

‘To your grandmother’s house?’

‘She left it to me.’

‘Joe, I don’t want to go there with you.’

He kept his attention fixed on the road. ‘Don’t worry; it’s the last place I’d take you. My mother is living there. For the moment,’ he added, relishing the power he had to evict her and hating himself for being small-minded enough to enjoy it.

‘Then why go to Langland?’

‘We can walk on the beach and talk. It is public.’

‘And you want your mother to see us.’

‘God, no.’ He turned the wheel abruptly and swerved into a car park alongside the waterfront, incurring an angry horn blast from the car behind. Driving into a parking bay, he turned off the engine.

‘That wasn’t very sensible.’

‘I’m not feeling very sensible.’ His hands shook as patted his pockets in search of his cigarette case.

‘What’s happened, Joe?’ she asked quietly.

‘My grandmother has left me her entire estate – well, almost, but what she didn’t leave me wasn’t worth having.’ He sat back and stared at the beach. The tide was at its furthest point, exposing a vast stretch of mudflats populated by small boys and ardent fishermen digging for lugworm. He watched them for a moment. ‘I told you about my trust fund.’

‘That wasn’t part of what your grandmother left you?’

‘Oh, no.’ He adopted a mocking tone. ‘You can have absolutely no idea just how wealthy your companion is. According to the family solicitor, “the wealthiest young man in Swansea”.’

‘And you brought me here to boast about it.’ She depressed the door handle.

‘No! Lily,’ he called out to her as she left the car. ‘What do you think I am?’

‘At this moment I’m not sure.’

‘Lily …’

Turning, she ran down on to the beach.

He lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply before climbing out of his seat and locking the car. She was running so quickly it took him a few minutes to catch up. Arriving behind her, he gripped her arm to slow her down.

‘If you picked me up from work to tell me how much you’ve got, and how mad I’d be to turn you down again, you’re talking to the wrong girl, Joe Griffiths.’

‘It’s nothing like that, Lily. Please.’ Steadying her, he forced her to face him. ‘Do you remember one night not long after I asked you to marry me, when I discovered John Griffiths wasn’t my real father?’

She calmed down enough to murmur, ‘Yes.’

‘And I told you I went to see my mother and she insisted it was her secret and she would never tell me who had fathered me? Well, today she changed her mind. My father is the family solicitor, Richard Thomas.’

She stared at him in disbelief. ‘Helen’s boss, the one we met at Robin and Angie’s party?’

‘The man Helen christened “sneaky old grubby eyes”.’

‘Judy, not Helen, coined that expression,’ she muttered, not thinking about what she was saying. She couldn’t have been more shocked. Richard Thomas was old enough to be Joe’s grandfather and the only time she had met him he’d sent shudders down her spine. Helen had told her that every girl who worked in the solicitor’s office, including her, hated being alone in a room with him because whenever he looked at them they felt as though he were mentally undressing them. ‘Are you sure? I mean, he’s ancient and nothing at all like you, not in looks or ways.’

‘For that at least, thank you. But consider the alternative: I take after my mother.’ Discarding his cigarette, he ground it into the sand with his shoe.

‘You’re your own person, Joe.’ She led the way back towards the sea wall.

‘I wish.’ He sat beside her and stared at the sea. It looked colder, greyer than the sea in front of his grandmother’s house in Langland – not his grandmother’s, his.

‘You just said it, Joe, one of the wealthiest young men in Swansea. You can do anything you want.’

‘With the trust fund my real father has looked after for years. How can I be sure it only holds what my great-aunt invested for me, not Richard Thomas’s conscience money for abandoning my mother when she was pregnant with me? And as if that’s not enough, he also drew up my grandmother’s will and, according to my mother, persuaded my grandmother to drop everyone else in the family in favour of me.’

‘Your mother’s upset.’ Lily gripped his hand in an attempt to stop him from shaking. ‘She couldn’t have known what she was saying; she’s just lost her mother …’

‘You don’t know my mother, the only thing she’s upset about is losing free board and lodging at one of the best addresses in Swansea.’

‘That’s a dreadful thing to say.’

‘My mother’s a dreadful person.’ Pulling one of his hands free, he extricated his cigarette case from the inside pocket of his suit jacket.

‘Joe …’

Opening his case he offered her a cigarette. When she refused, he pushed one between his lips and lit it. ‘Don’t you realise Richard Thomas could have been fattening my trust fund with his money for years – for all I know the fund could even have been his idea in the first place. He was my mother’s godfather, the confidant of everyone in the family including my grandmother and aunt. Old enough to have fathered my mother and …’ Sickened by the thought of his mother and Richard Thomas together – he covered his mouth with his fist.

‘Have you talked to Mr Griffiths about this?’

‘How can I? He’s never known who my real father was. He’ll be as devastated as I am.’

‘Do you think Mr Thomas knows that you’re his son?’

‘He knows.’ He drew heavily on his cigarette. ‘My mother made that much clear when she told me she suspected him of topping up my trust fund and influencing my grandmother to leave everything to me, to spite her.’

‘Why on earth would she think Mr Thomas would want to spite her?’

‘Because when she discovered she was pregnant, he wanted her to get rid of me and she wouldn’t.’ His hand shook so much he dropped his cigarette. ‘Presumably, as I’m now here and not to be got rid of, he’s decided a wealthy bastard is less of an embarrassment than a poor one.’

Lily sensed his rage, burning hot, painful – and destructive. ‘You can’t let this blight your life, Joe.’

‘How can I touch a penny of my trust fund or my grandmother’s estate knowing that bastard probably rigged it?’

‘You have to ask him if he has.’

‘What’s the point?’ He took his lighter from his pocket and flicked on the flame. ‘If he says yes I’ll feel as if my inheritance is tainted and if he says no I won’t believe him.’

‘You could hand over all your affairs to another solicitor and ask him to check everything. If Richard Thomas has given you money, you don’t have to touch it.’

‘Always the practical one.’ He looked at her as he returned his lighter to his pocket. ‘Would you take the money if Richard Thomas were your father?’

‘He’s not my father so I don’t know how I’d feel.’

‘Would you take money your mother had earned by selling herself down on the docks?’

His question hurt, not because she wanted to pretend her real mother was anything other than a prostitute but because he had reminded her of her parentage – yet again. ‘You’re forgetting my mother only came looking for me to get money out of Uncle Roy. She practically sold me to Auntie Norah.’

‘I’m sorry … I didn’t mean … Oh God!’ He ran his hands through his hair, rumpling his curls. ‘I’m so confused I don’t know what I’m saying or doing. I begged you to come with me because you’re the one person I can talk to about this and now I’ve upset and humiliated you. Lily, I’m sorry …’

‘I’ll get over it,’ she said flatly.

‘You’re nothing to do with your real mother.’

‘I know that, Joe.’ Untying the scarf from her head, she replaced it round her neck. ‘I only wish everyone else realised it.’