The Legacy (12 page)

Christina had arranged a small dinner party for the Spanniers. She rang round their local friends and one couple had a daughter staying, so she included her for Harry Spannier. Because of Richard's age, their friends tended to be older than she was, and she hoped the Spanniers' son would enjoy himself. She was disconcerted to find that Harry Spannier spent the entire evening staring at her and hardly talked to his date. He wasn't what she had expected when he walked into the hall with his parents; she had imagined someone tall and bronzed from the South African sun. He was certainly tanned, but he was slightly built, no taller than she was, with a thin fine-featured face and deep-set dark eyes that reminded her suddenly of Richard. Jane embraced her, pronounced her tired-looking, which Peter promptly contradicted, saying she was looking super as always, and then they introduced Harry.

‘I'm so glad to meet you,' Christina said. ‘How does it feel to be home?' His answer was unconventional.

‘I've no idea yet. It doesn't feel like home, but I'll get used to it. I'm glad to meet you too.' He had looked round the study and said, ‘What an improvement—I remember this as a ghastly coal-hole of a room, you've made it bright and cheerful.'

Jane had said briskly, ‘Take no notice of him, Christa. He speaks his mind, like me, I'm afraid. Typical Farrington.'

She gazed at him fondly. He gazed back and grinned. Then he had said to Christina, ‘Not typical at all. They're a very secretive devious lot. My mother is some kind of throw-back.'

She was suddenly glad they had come; this rather odd man sparked his parents off, and she felt she would enjoy herself. Jane was enthusiastic about the friends coming to dinner. She knew them all and gave a candid opinion on the faults and virtues of everyone in turn. Once or twice Christina caught Harry Spannier's eye and he shook his head in mock exasperation.

‘We'll dress up tonight,' Christina told them, ‘to celebrate you coming and Harry being back. It'll do me good, so I hope you don't mind. I want it to be a proper party for you.'

‘You're sweet,' Jane said and meant it. ‘I brought Peter's old velvet jacket and I packed something for you, Harry; I hope it fits.'

‘It should,' he said, ‘I haven't exactly put on weight; lost a lot of it, in fact.' He spoke to Christina. ‘There's nothing like a really messy divorce to get the kilos off.'

Jane had mentioned a broken marriage, but she hadn't gone into details. She said quietly, ‘I'm sure. Let's have a drink before we go up and change.' He had stepped forward. ‘I'll fix the drinks,' he said, ‘just point me in the right direction.'

‘Over there, by the window,' Christina had told him. ‘It's all laid out. I'll have a very weak vodka and lots of tonic.'

‘And Ma and Pop will have two
not
very weak whiskies. And I'll have a stiff pink gin, Jo'burg measure. Three fingers gin, two ice-cubes and wave the pink over the glass.' He came back with the drinks and went up to her. ‘Cheers!' he said. ‘Nice to be here.'

The party was a success. Christina sat at the head of the table; even Peter Spannier, whose ultimate judgement of a woman's looks was confined to ‘super', like an enthusiastic schoolboy, managed to mutter to his wife, ‘My God, doesn't Christa look good. Can't believe she'll be a widow for long!'

‘She'll have to be careful,' Jane retorted. ‘Lots of local men will have their eye on her, but they won't be thinking of marriage. There's hardly anyone round here who's single unless they're queer. That Copford girl is nice, but Harry's not made any effort with her; hardly said a word to her during dinner.'

Peter Spannier had noticed. He had also noticed that his son hadn't taken his eyes off Christina from the moment they met, but he knew his wife's tactless tongue, so he didn't say anything. As soon as coffee was over, Harry cornered her; the elderly retired naval captain gave place and moved on.

‘You know,' he said, ‘I've forgotten how civilized English parties can be. I remember thinking they were dull beyond description, but I've really enjoyed myself tonight, and you look wonderful in that black dress.'

‘Thank you,' Christina answered, ‘but surely life in Johannesburg was just as civilized, rather grander than the way we live now.'

‘Oh, it was,' he said. ‘If you had plenty of money you lived like a king. My wife was quite rich, so we had all the trimmings: lots of servants, big house, swimming-pool. I'm just sour about the whole thing, don't take any notice.'

‘I won't,' she promised. ‘Who would you like to talk to?'

He looked at her. ‘You,' he said. ‘I hear you're having trouble with Alan. Ma said he was taking you to court over Richard's will. Is that true?' She turned away from him.

‘Yes, it is, but I don't want to spoil a happy evening talking about it. Come over and talk to Mrs Francis. She's just come back from a trip to St Petersburg.'

‘All right, if I must,' he said. ‘I'm sorry, I didn't mean to put my big foot in it. I'll give the tour of the Hermitage half an hour and then I'm coming back to talk to you.' He went over to where Mrs Francis was sitting and asked her, in a loud voice, to tell him all about her trip to Russia.

When the guests were leaving, he joined Christina in the hall. He helped some of the ladies with their coats—Mrs Francis gave him a warm smile. ‘I have enjoyed meeting you,' she said. ‘What a pity you're going to live in Norfolk!'

‘Isn't it?' he agreed. She was recently divorced, mid-forties and hungry for male attention.

To Christina's embarrassment, he looked across at her and winked. She said softly to Jane, ‘Was he always like this?'

‘Worse,' his mother said. ‘Believe it or not, he's mellowed. He used to be a nightmare if he didn't like somebody, but he certainly likes you. Be nice to him, dear, he's still very hurt; don't be put off by the bravado, he adored that wretched wife. I could kill her for what she's done to him. Peter, bedtime.'

‘Don't bully me,' her husband retorted. ‘Christina, I'd like a nightcap, if you don't mind.'

‘I'll have one with you,' she said. ‘Then we can all go to bed. Jane?'

‘I'd better, otherwise he'll just drink brandy and go to sleep in the chair. Harry, are you joining us or do you want to opt out?'

He shrugged. ‘I was hoping to be alone with the beautiful lady, but you've buggered it up, Pop, as usual. I'll have a drink if one's on offer.'

The evenings were cooler and there was a fire in the study. The big drawing-room was daunting without a crowd of people. Harry Spannier stopped before the Tudor portrait above the fireplace.

‘What a strange picture! I don't remember that being in here.'

‘It wasn't,' Christina explained. ‘It was in the hall, and when I redecorated the room, Richard moved it in. He loved it. It's supposed to be a Farrington but there's no name.'

‘I don't fancy the skull bit,' he said.

‘Oh, God,' Jane interrupted, ‘nor do I, but I never liked to say anything. Dick was very touchy about criticism.'

‘James said the same thing,' Christina said. ‘He suggested I moved it somewhere else, but I said no.'

‘Speaking of James,' Jane Spannier said, ‘I hear you're having trouble with Alan.' Christina hesitated. She had made up her mind to confide in them and ask their advice. She wasn't sure that one o'clock in the morning was the right time to do it, but why not, she decided. It might be easier than calling a conference in cold blood.

‘He's contesting the will,' she said, ‘and the terms of the new trust, leaving RussMore to Belinda. Actually I'm very glad you're all here, because I need your help. Harry, if you'll give everyone a refill, please, I'll tell you all about it.'

4

‘It seems to me you'd better get this Swedish fellow down here and find this manuscript, or whatever, as quickly as possible.' Peter Spannier gave his verdict after a pause. It hadn't taken long to explain the bare facts: Alan's contesting of the will and the validity of the new trust; Rolf Wallberg's scenario of how the case would go; her inability to fund a long drawn-out legal battle and then the discovery of a priceless asset which could change everything.

Jane agreed vigorously. ‘Get on with it, Christa, put the stuff up for sale and get the money behind you. I think Alan's behaviour is absolutely disgraceful! I shall write and tell him so.'

‘Don't waste the stamp,' her husband interposed. ‘He never cared what anyone thought of him. You couldn't penetrate that thick hide whatever you said.'

‘You've been so good, letting me burden you with all this,' Christina said. ‘It's been a great help just to talk to someone. It's not something I'd discuss with friends, Richard wouldn't have wanted that. It's a family matter.' She got up. ‘It's late and I've kept you all up.'

The elder Spanniers kissed her good night; she held the study door open for Harry but he closed it.

‘There's a lot you didn't tell them,' he said quietly. ‘Why don't you tell me?'

‘Because I want to go to bed.'

‘Christina, I'm family and I'm not as stupid as I look. You're in trouble, and I want to help. You never said on what grounds Alan was disputing the will. Breaking a family trust drawn up by experts like Harvey & Stone is bloody near impossible. What's he got over you?'

Christina opened the door and looked at him. ‘Harry, will you please go? I want to turn out the lights.' He didn't move and, for a moment, she thought he might bar her way.

‘All right,' he conceded, ‘but I like you and I know you need a friend; I'd like it to be me. Doesn't it strike you as a bit odd that your Mr Wallberg knows more about ancient manuscripts than he does about the laws of inheritance? You can't sell anything out of the estate until this mess has been cleared up. Good night—see you in the morning.'

‘Wait,' Christina caught hold of his sleeve, ‘what do you mean … I can't sell anything?'

‘Let's talk about it in the morning, shall we?' He put a hand on her shoulder and kissed her lightly on the cheek, then he left.

He wasn't at breakfast.

‘Where's Harry? I've got to talk to him,' she demanded.

Jane heaped marmalade on her toast. ‘Gone for a walk. Why, Christa, what's he done? I noticed he stayed behind when we went up last night.'

‘He said something that made me so worried I couldn't sleep. Jane, is it true that you can't sell anything if a will is under dispute?'

‘God knows, I've never had the problem,' was the answer. ‘I'll ask Peter when he comes down. Sorry he's late by the way. Maybe it's to do with probate being granted. Is that what Harry said?'

‘Yes, I think so. Jane, can't you stay until after Saturday? I've got Wallberg coming down to help look for this manuscript.'

‘My dear, I wish we could. But Friday's pay-day for the men, and I've got a parish council meeting in the afternoon. We really must get back on Friday morning, early as possible. I'll ring you Saturday evening to see how you've got on, and don't worry, it'll sort itself out.' Poor thing, she thought kindly; she looks so anxious. It must be awful not having anyone to confide in. She decided to change the subject. ‘What's the plan for today, then?'

‘We're going over to Longstanton for lunch.' Christina thrust her problems aside. ‘Then the Heatons have asked us for drinks this evening. I didn't plan anything for dinner, so Belinda could join us. Just a quiet evening, with telly afterwards, if there's anything to watch.'

‘Lovely,' Jane enthused. ‘How is the child? Getting to grips with life? So difficult losing a parent. When does she go back to school?'

‘September; she's looking forward to it. I think she's coped very well; she's a brave little thing, very like Richard in so many ways.'

‘She's not the only one who's brave,' Jane retorted. ‘There's Harry, I can see him coming along the path out there; go and make him explain himself.'

Christina watched him through the window. He was walking briskly, but she felt he was far from his surroundings. She said slowly, ‘Jane, do you mind if I say something? He's odd, isn't he? I mean he's not at all average.'

‘No, he certainly isn't, but if he likes you, he's the best friend you could ever have. He's got a very good heart. Go and find him.'

She went out into the garden and hurried to catch up with him. He didn't seem to hear her when she called out. ‘Harry!' He went on walking, head slightly bent, deep in private thought. Finally she reached him and he stopped, turned and then he smiled at her.

‘Hello, there.'

‘Don't you want breakfast?'

‘No thanks. I've been inspecting the grounds. I'd love to come over one day and go around the whole estate. I'm taking on Dad's farm as well as the business, and I could learn a lot from the way things are done here. Could I do that?'

‘Yes, of course, any time you like. I'll get Bob Thorn to go round with you; he's our estate manager. I saw you through the window; you looked rather miserable.' They were walking side by side, his pace slowed down to match hers.

‘I'm not miserable,' he said slowly. ‘Not as miserable as I was. I'm just bloody angry about the way my life's turned out. I never meant to come back to England; I loved living in South Africa. I've got a younger brother who's married and farming forty miles away from home, and he expected to take everything on when Dad gave up or died; he's not best pleased with me for coming back.'

‘Why did you? Couldn't you find someone else and start again? Divorce isn't the end of the world; it's so common these days.'

‘Too common,' he said shortly. ‘People break up for nothing. I found my wife on top of my business partner at three o'clock in the afternoon when she thought I was a couple of hundred miles away. To me, that wasn't nothing, so I booted her out and sent him along to the dentist for some new front teeth. I decided to cut my losses and come back to England. Ma was thrilled.' He smiled, thinking of his mother. ‘She always found excuses for me. I was a difficult little bugger as a teenager. Then, when I started to behave like a human being, I went to the other side of the world, never mind how they felt about it. Then I come back, and they kill the fatted calf. I'm lucky, I've got great parents. Did you think about what I said last night?'