Towards a Dark Horizon (32 page)

We all went back inside the gloomy room and Maggie was still hovering over the baby.

When it was time to leave, Danny and I left some money for the baby’s bankie and we then said our goodbyes. There was still no sign of the doting father.

Later that week, I got a surprise visit from Jean. She was full of excitement over the prospect of spying on Margot. In fact, she wanted to start there and then.

‘I’ll pay your expenses, Jean,’ I told her.

‘No, we’ll go half and half as I’ll get my cup of coffee out of the trip. My man is busy at the moment with his joinery work so this wee ploy will keep me busy. When do you want me to start?’

‘Granny and I thought twice a week, Jean, but we’ll leave it up to you when you go.’

I had been feeling even more depressed at the plight of Lily but Kit’s remark the other night about how Ma Ryan had said everything comes in God’s own time had cheered me up. I really felt very cherished by all my visitors during my illness. As well as my own family and the Ryans, Maddie and her parents had also come and so had their doctor. Rosie was the only one who had stayed away but that was because she didn’t want to run into Margot and Dad and I understood entirely.

As Jean sat at the table with her cup of tea, I said, ‘I’ll give you my share of the expenses now.’

I took down the tin, expecting it to hold twenty-five pounds but it was empty. I sat down so hard on the chair that Jean thought I had fainted.

‘What’s the matter, Ann? Are you not well?’

Much to my own disgust, I began to cry. ‘The tin’s empty, Jean. It had twenty-seven pounds in it the other day when I took out two pounds to join you at the teashop.’

She was shocked. ‘Do you mean to tell me you’ve had a burglar?’ Her voice was faint.

I shook my head. ‘I’ve had a burglar Jean but I know who he is – my father.’

It was Jean’s turn to shake her head in disbelief. ‘Och, surely your own father wouldn’t take the money, Ann. It must have been a sneak thief. Do you lock your door?’

‘No, I don’t because nobody around here would ever dream of stealing from their neighbours. No, it must have been Dad because he was the only person to know I had money in here, believe me.’

She still sat in disbelief. I didn’t know what to do. Whoever had taken my money had now left me penniless once more and I didn’t want to go begging again to Mr Pringle.

I told Jean this and she was annoyed. ‘It’s not begging, Ann. It’s your own money that you’re asking for.’

‘But he’ll want to know how I managed to spend fifty pounds in so short a time.’

‘F-f-fifty p-p-pounds,’ she stuttered, the words coming out along with tiny beads of spittle which settled on her chin before she wiped them away. ‘Fifty pounds? You’ve lost fifty pounds?’

‘No, Dad asked me for money for Lily’s keep and some new clothes and shoes and I told him to take it from the tin. When I looked afterwards the tin had twenty-seven pounds left. I took out two pounds and that should have left twenty-five pounds but it’s gone.’

‘Look, Ann, I’ll fund the spying venture and you can settle up with me later.’ She took a few pounds from her purse. ‘In the meantime have this wee loan till you see Mr Pringle and if you take my advice you’ll get another place to hide it in – especially if there’s someone with sticky fingers around.’

She left to begin on her venture. She’d said there was no time like the present and I sincerely hoped she would be successful.

After she left, a memory came into my mind of that afternoon when I’d thought I heard the noise of someone in the house. Perhaps it hadn’t been a dream. I knew it couldn’t have been Dad as he’d have been at his work so was it a sneak thief? I hoped so.

At the end of the week Jean appeared with her report of the assignment. Before she arrived, I had made up my mind to stop her going to the hotel. I didn’t feel happy about it and my first instinct had been right. At the time. I thought spying on someone bordered on the criminal and this view had been reinforced as the days went by. If Margot was up to no good then no doubt the truth would come out in time but I wanted no part in it this way. I would try and get Lily back by some other means.

Jean was bursting to tell me her news. ‘I’ve been to the hotel twice but they only appeared on one day. They sat together like the last time – so intent on one another that they never looked to the right or the left. But I couldn’t hear what they were saying even although I took a seat near them.’ She sounded disappointed about her inability to hear everything. I suspected she would have liked to give me dramatic news and was annoyed that there was none.

I told her what I thought about the entire thing. ‘I think we’ll call it off now Jean because I don’t feel that we’re doing the right thing.’

She didn’t argue and I got the feeling she was relieved at my decision although she didn’t say so.

My main worry now, apart from Lily, was the fact I would have to make another appointment to see Mr Pringle. Jean’s loan had helped out as did my wages from the shop but I had dodged the rent man last Friday night and I knew I couldn’t do it again. I’d never missed paying my rent before so he would have just assumed I was out that time but he would soon stop thinking that if I was never in.

I voiced my worry about meeting Mr Pringle to Jean and she was annoyed. ‘Listen, Ann, it’s your own money we’re talking about here and, if you have to take some more out, then so be it.’

‘But he aye seems so upset if I ask him.’

She snorted. ‘Solicitors are aye like that. They like to think they’re investing the money for you and that you shouldn’t ever need it. They normally don’t need it themselves so they don’t know how the other half lives. Just you go and see him and tell him the truth – that your money was pinched.’

But it wasn’t as easy as that. What if he asked me if I knew who took it? I couldn’t mention Dad.

Jean was still talking. ‘Would you like me to come along with you for courage?’

It was good of her to offer. ‘I’ll have to make an appointment today and go back for the money tomorrow. If you can come with me now I’ll manage to go myself tomorrow.’

She shook her head. ‘No, you’ll not, Ann. Tomorrow is Saturday and I’m sure the office is closed at the weekends.’ She didn’t sound sure but I thought she was right.

I was almost in tears. As it was, I was going to have to dodge the rent man again that night and twice would certainly make him suspicious. He had once told me that he knew the people who dodged their rents and made it difficult for him to collect them. Now here I was joining that great evading brigade.

Jean said, ‘Let’s go down and make an appointment for Monday and I can lend you some more money and you can pay me back later next week.’

I tried to refuse but she wouldn’t listen so we set off. It was another lovely day of warm sunshine and it was a pleasure to be out in the fresh air. I was feeling so much better now and more like my normal self.

The two efficient-looking typists blinked at us as we walked in and one came to the counter.

‘I’d like to make an appointment with Mr Pringle, please.’

To our astonishment, she told us to sit down and Mr Pringle would see me as soon as he could.

Jean raised her eyebrows at me but I shrugged my shoulders. We both sat in silence and listened to the gentle tapping of the typewriters which, as usual, I found very soothing.

Ten minutes later, Mr Pringle appeared at the door of his office and he seemed surprised to see us both sitting there. The typist rose from her chair and spoke quietly to him. He nodded and smiled in our direction.

He came over. ‘I was on the point of writing to you both. What a surprise to see you both here – you must be clairvoyant!’

We sat looking at him as if he had gone daft but he waved us both into his office.

Jean remained in her chair. ‘It’s Ann who wants to see you, Mr Pringle – I’m just here to keep her company.’

‘No, Mrs Peters, I want to see you too.’

He herded us both into his tiny office and we sat down, full of trepidation. What on earth could he possibly want with us both? I wondered fearfully.

He made a great show of pulling down a large folder from the top shelf. He placed in on his desk and began to inspect the contents.

I had this absurd mental picture of him blowing away cobwebs from it but it was pristinely clean and looked as if it had hardly been handled in years. In fact my own folder here was almost identical to it.

I was suddenly worried. Had we lost our money through a bad investment? He had explained all these things to me at the time of my inheritance but it all sounded double-Dutch to me and I was glad to leave it in his capable hands. Had it all gone wrong?

He saw my worried face and he smiled. I relaxed. I somehow didn’t think he would smile if the news was bad.

He gave us both a serious look. ‘Now, ladies, I have some important news for you both. You know that Miss Hood has died and thank you both for going to her funeral last week. I have her will here and she has left you all – yourselves and Mr Potter the gardener – a good sum of money.’

I gasped out loud. ‘She couldn’t have mentioned my name, Mr Pringle – she tried to kill me.’

He looked solemn. ‘Indeed she did, Ann, and you’re right – none of the beneficiaries are mentioned by name. Her will is a strange one, I must admit. It was drawn up years before either of you went to work for Mrs Barrie.’

Jean piped up, ‘Well, how come we’re mentioned in it?’

He explained, ‘As I told you, it was drawn up during her early days with Mrs Barrie. There is no doubt that she loved her very much and when the question of wills came up one day she asked Mrs Barrie for advice. Now this is the strange part. Mrs Barrie told her that she was leaving the bulk of her estate to one beneficiary but there was also to be a few minor ones.’

Jean was puzzled. ‘What’s that got to do you with us, Mr Pringle?’

‘Well, it seems that Miss Hood did the same. She decided to have exactly the same will as her employer. Now, I suppose she thought the minor bequests would be for some charities or something like that and I do believe she was very fond of dogs so she probably thought the money might go there. But, because her will states firmly that Mrs Barrie’s minor bequests are also to be hers, you both now find that you’re beneficiaries of Miss Hood – and Mr Potter, of course.’ He took off his glasses and wiped them on a tiny chamois cloth.

I was quite upset at this news and I said so. ‘I don’t think I should take this money, Mr Pringle, because it wasn’t meant for me to inherit it. She hated me.’

‘I know all that, Ann, but the fact remains that Miss Hood being of sound mind and body copied Mrs Barrie’s will and that’s how it stands.’

Jean said, ‘But she wasn’t of sound mind.’

‘When this will was drawn up she was. I can’t force you to take the bequests but I strongly urge you both to think carefully about this. You can both do with the extra money.’ He looked at me. ‘Especially you, Ann – you have your sister to bring up and that will take a good deal of money.’

Not in my neck of the woods it didn’t. There were hundreds of families living on the breadline and they seemed to get by. Why should I take this money which obviously wasn’t meant for me? If Miss Hood was still alive she would say so.

‘What will happen to this money if we refuse it?’

‘Miss Hood had a son and he is the main beneficiary so this money would be added to his. However, we have failed to trace him and, if this remains the case, after a number of years the money will go to the Crown.’

Jean looked pensive. ‘Will this son get a lot of money even if we take ours?’

‘I’m not at liberty to divulge this but what I can say is this – these three small bequests are just a small part of the estate.’

Jean made up her mind. ‘Well, I can’t speak for Ann but I’ll take my bequest and say thank you very much, Miss Hood.’

They both looked at me. I was torn between my feelings for the late housekeeper and my urgent need of cash. I made up my mind. ‘I’ll take the bequest as well, Mr Pringle, but can this money be put into a post office account or something similar. I don’t want it to be with my bequest from Mrs Barrie.’

‘That can be arranged,’ he said. He placed the folder back on the shelf. ‘Now, what did you want to see me about?’

‘I wanted to see you …’ I said.

Jean stood up. ‘I’ll wait outside, Ann, and let you conduct your business in private.’

My mouth felt dry. ‘I need some more money, Mr Pringle.’

He looked at me but said nothing.

Flustered, I continued. ‘It’s just that the money I got a wee while ago is finished and I need some more.’

He then lifted my folder down and I almost laughed. It was certainly a day for the poor folders.

‘I’ll need to go to the bank but if you wait till I come back, you can have it later. We’re closed tomorrow and I know you must be desperate to have some more money so soon, Ann.’

My heart lifted at this news. I would have money for the rent man and the shopping and I could also repay Jean’s loan.

‘I’ll wait outside, Mr Pringle, and thank you.’

Jean was sitting on the chair outside with a faraway expression. I knew she was thinking about Miss Hood. I was doing the same. Although I felt awkward about taking her money, I didn’t bear the dead woman any bitterness – it was all in the past where it belonged. In fact, I had a great sympathy for her unhappy life.

Jean put into words what we were both feeling. ‘Imagine giving us a bequest, Ann?’

I didn’t add that it wasn’t a personal thing. Miss Hood probably thought it was going to a dogs’ home or a sanctuary for aged donkeys. It certainly wasn’t meant to go to her arch enemy – me.

Mr Pringle was back within the hour and I re-entered his office. He handed me a brown envelope and, once again, it contained my money in small denominations – fifty pounds.

He said, ‘It’s your money, Ann, and you can do what you like with it but can I give you some advice?’

I nodded.

‘Please don’t be so generous with your father and his new wife. Your father has a job and he can well look after themselves and you and Lily as well.’ He stopped and gave me a searching look. ‘I don’t want to pry, Ann, but I hope your stepmother isn’t asking you for this money?’