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Authors: Clare Revell

Tags: #christian Fiction

Saturday's Child (15 page)

BOOK: Saturday's Child
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Sadness crossed her face for an instant before it disappeared. “Let’s just see what Gareth says about the will and codicil.”

“OK.”

She looked at the food. “Can we bag that up? I fancy a picnic in a field full of sheep.”

He laughed. “You’re mad, woman, but sure. A picnic it is.”

 

 

 

 

 

13

 

Roaring lions tearing their prey open their mouths wide against me. Psalm 22:13

 

Just before seven on Saturday, Aaron came in from milking the cows, cold and damp from the early morning rain. He was surprised to find Tanis up and dressed. She sat at the table with her coat on and a case by her feet. He managed a smile. “Morning, Tanis.”

“I’m going away for the weekend,” she said without preamble. “Try not to destroy the house before I get back.”

“Why would I want to do that?” He tilted his head. “You look sick.”

“I’ve felt better.” She grimaced. “I don’t know what you did while I was out yesterday, but its freezing cold in this place. And it doesn’t feel the same anymore. Are you sure you didn’t do anything?”

Aaron grinned. “I just put a few things back in their rightful place, that’s all. It’s warmer than it has been. I’m in town today. I’ll pick up a heater for your bedroom and install it for you.” He knew he shouldn’t, but he loved the irony of her being cold in a now warm house.

“Leave it by the door and I’ll do it. I’m quite capable of plugging in a heater myself. I’ll be back on Monday evening or Tuesday afternoon, depending on how the mood takes me.” She picked up her case and headed to the door.

Aaron couldn’t repress his grin as her car drove away. Three, maybe four days without her. That should make it easier for a bit. He may even get to do some decorating. He’d done a little. The mold in the red room hadn’t reappeared overnight and he’d taken down the pictures of hell, replacing them with the floral and landscape pictures from before. Ideally, he’d like to either repaint or repaper the room before the bonfire. The picture of Jesus was back on the wall where it had always hung. And it hadn’t fallen off once.

The lights from Tanis’s car vanished, and he tugged down his jumper. First order of the day was to find the wills. They would either be in her room or the front parlor. On consideration, the parlor was the best option as no one was allowed in there.

Naturally, the door was locked. He took the stairs two at a time to Tanis’s room. That too was locked. He sighed. Maybe...he reached above the door and ran his fingers along the lintel. Dusty wood became cool metal and he picked up the key. Unlocking the door, a rush of stale air and heavy perfume and tobacco brushed past him. The room was cold, but nothing like the house used to be.

Aaron checked the obvious places and then the not so obvious ones, but there were no files or papers anywhere. He found the key to the parlor on a bunch with other keys. Including what looked like one for a filing cabinet.

He headed back downstairs and unlocked the parlor door. Inside the room, the air was stale and the smell decidedly unpleasant, as if something was rotting somewhere.

He opened the curtains and flung wide the windows, letting the fresh, rain soaked breeze inside. Taking a few deep, cleansing breaths, he turned to face the room.

It looked nothing like what he remembered from how his grandmother and mother had it. Only used for visitors, and important ones at that, the room had always been pristine, containing the best things in cases and on shelves.

All that was gone.

In its place were items he couldn’t identify or even begin to guess at what they were for. To one side, where once his grandmother’s prized King Edward VII coronation tea set had been, stood a tall filing cabinet.

The drawers slid open soundlessly, each one jammed full of files. There were several files containing accounts, bills, and employment records. Not just for Tanis’s development company, but for the farm. Some of the bills were in his name, which he hadn’t seen before. No wonder some of his suppliers had suddenly stopped dealing with him. He paused over one interesting set of paperwork. According to this, Tunstell Refineries were continuing to pay him several hundred pounds a month for the rape seed. He hadn’t received anything from them in almost a year, even though he was still, apparently, supplying them with produce.

Setting those to one side, he pulled out another file. This one bore Isaac’s name. His stomach dropped as he read. He didn’t want to believe what he was seeing. No wonder his brother had backed off and signed his share of the farm away when Tanis told him to.

Aaron pulled out the file marked Leah. Similar paperwork lay inside. He felt sick. Surely, it had to be made up? He couldn’t imagine either of his siblings doing something so horrible or so stupid.

Maybe it was a lie. The farm paperwork sure didn’t match up with what he knew to be true.

He set the folders on top of the cabinet with others he wanted to copy. Did Tanis have a file on him, as well? It didn’t take him long to find it. Hardly daring to breathe, he glanced through it, his stomach churning.

Where had she found this stuff? Every single thing he’d ever done was listed. Right and wrong. Including things he’d rather forget about.

All of it written in lurid detail and all horribly accurate. Guilt flooded him, and his face burned hot.

He added it to the pile and then hunted for the will and codicil. Finding them, he pulled out the folder. Taking a deep breath, he flicked it open. The will he’d seen before, heard read when his dad died. But the second one? Reading it, his stomach plummeted. Perhaps he
was
in the wrong after all. He placed it on top of the cabinet and was about to shut the drawer, when another file caught his eye. This one was labeled M. Knight.

He grabbed it, not sure he wanted to read it. Had Tanis discovered Meggie’s dark secrets? Did she even have any? Gathering up all the folders, he headed across to his office. He began to photocopy every page, his curiosity getting the better of him as he did. He began to read Meggie’s file.

Tanis had gone to great lengths to find out everything about her. Starting with what school she had gone to, through exam results, school clubs, Girl Guide badges, to the bloke she had dated and friends she had made. He skipped a section, his eye caught by something underlined in red. A relationship with someone called Ted; newspaper cuttings from his trial and subsequent death in the prison riots were included.

He put the copied files in new folders, locked them in his briefcase and then returned the originals to Tanis’s filing cabinet. He closed the window, pulled the curtains and left the room as he found it. The keys went into his pocket. He wanted to get copies made of them should he ever need access to the files again.

All he had left to do now was make sure the farm hands knew what to do, then head into town. He’d pick up a new Bible, some paint and get the keys cut. Then he’d go to Meggie’s for dinner and to meet her brothers.

Was he a fool to hope that something could be done? Or would he be a bigger fool if he gave in, did nothing and let Tanis win?

 

****

 

Meggie grinned across the table at her brothers. “You blokes don’t change at all, do you?”

Cadfael pressed a hand to his heart and pretended to be wounded. “We’re just looking out for you, Megs. By your own admission, you’ve known this Aaron less than a week, he doesn’t go to church anymore and you’re already sleeping over at his place.”

She shook her head. “Way to go to make things sound really bad. It was a choice between sleeping over at the farm or spending the night in the car by a possible road block. If Aaron was a girl, you wouldn’t think to question my motives or even mention it, but because he’s a bloke you go all ‘big brother’ on me. Mind you, in hindsight, the road block would have been way more fun.”

Gareth’s expression turned from teasing to concern. “Cadfael filled me in on what happened. Are you OK?”

“That depends on your definition of OK. I mean we had a tornado drop right on top of us, the only building that got destroyed was the one we were hiding in, then…” She drew in a deep breath. “I’m sore, but healing.”

“Show us?”

Sighing, Meggie pulled her jumper off. Above her vest top and down the length of both her arms, the scratches were clearly visible.

Gareth gasped. “Megs…”

Cadfael’s eyes narrowed. “You didn’t tell me they were that bad. How far down do they go?”

“What you see is all there is. Shoulders, arms and a little below here.” She ran her fingers along the neckline of her top.

“Megs…” Cadfael’s voice tailed off.

Gareth, she noted, had been shocked into silence. A first. “Really, I’m fine. Aaron cleaned them after it happened. Well, most of them.”

Neither of her brothers looked convinced, but she wasn’t going to take off her vest to prove it to them. She pulled her jumper back on. “Do Mam and Da know?”

“Yes, they do.”

“And they didn’t insist on coming with you?” That was more than a little surprising. “Iestyn sounded as if he was ready to leap in the car when I spoke to him after the tornado.”

“I persuaded them we could handle it. I said that I’d pray with you, whilst Aaron and Gareth talked business. And speaking of Aaron, what time is he arriving?”

The doorbell rang and Meggie laughed. “About now, I think.” She pushed up and went to answer the door. She beamed at the tall, blond farmer standing there, and gave him an impromptu hug. “Hello.”

Aaron hugged her back, and kissed her. “I could get used to a welcome like that. How are you?”

“I’m doing all right. What about you?”

“Doing great.”

“That’s good. Gareth and Cadfael are here. Rather concerned over my arms, but nothing I can’t deal with.”

He laughed. “Only the two of them? I was rather expecting all seven to turn up after the other night.”

“Well, they are rather desperate to give you the third degree over your intentions,” she said leading him into the kitchen. “I think it was the sleepover that did it. I’m too old for sleepovers now.”

Gareth stood as they came in. “Now that’s not very fair, Megs. We don’t plan on giving him the third degree—whilst giving him the Welsh inquisition is another story all together.”

“Is that worse than the Spanish one?” Aaron asked.

Both brothers laughed. “Definitely. Hi, I’m Gareth Knight.”

Aaron shook the outstretched hand. “Aaron Field. And you must be Cadfael. Thank you for your prayers yesterday.”

Cadfael smiled. “Any time. Like I said to Megs, I’m two hours away, less than that if I drive quickly and the roads are clear. So, if you need someone over here again, shout.”

“Thank you. How was your drive this morning?”

“Pretty good. We left at seven, got here just before nine-thirty, having stopped on the way for breakfast.”

Aaron nodded, holding the briefcase tightly.

Meggie smiled. “Did you want some tea or something before you and Gareth get going on those files?”

He shook his head. “No, thank you.”

Gareth stood. “Shall we make a start? I figured we’d take over the lounge. That way Megs can slave over a hot griddle undisturbed. Her Welsh cakes are to die for.”

“That’s just a waste.” She poked her tongue out at him. “But fine, you eat one and die and then there’s more for me.”

Gareth grinned. “But I’d die with a smile on my face.”

“Oh, get away with ye, ye cheeky beggar.” She laughed and waved her hands towards the door. “Go do some work.”

Aaron looked at her. “Is that lamb I can smell?”

“Roast lamb just like I promised. It’ll be ready in a couple of hours or so. Did you find the wills?”

He held up the briefcase. “I have the files needed in here.”

“Just hope he can help.”

“So do I. See you later.”

 

****

 

Aaron glanced around the small lounge as he followed Gareth inside. It was very Meggie. The sideboard was covered with photos of her and her family. The resemblance between the two brothers he’d met and the rest was striking. There’d be no mistaking them. And the love they had for each other shone from each photo.

He could feel Gareth’s eyes on him. Maybe he should deal with the elephant in the room now and get it over with. “I’m very fond of your sister.”

“I hadn’t asked.”

“I know. I’m also aware that I’ve known her less than a week, but I can assure you, hurting her is the furthest thing from my mind.”

“Megs tells me you’re a widower.”

He swallowed, holding the other man’s gaze. Any hint of dishonesty here and it was over. “Yes. Nancy died three years ago.”

“I’m sorry. Did you lose her to illness?”

“No…uh…The coroner’s verdict was suicide. I found her hanging in the attic.”

Gareth sat at the couch by the coffee table, indicating the other chair. “You don’t sound as if you agree with his findings.”

Aaron sat, laying the briefcase on his lap. “She had no reason to kill herself. We’d been out to see a show and she’d met her favourite actor. She was expecting our first child. I left her singing and making pastry.”

“You suspect foul play?”

Aaron leaned forward. “The doctor’s report claimed Nancy was mentally unstable. I knew she’d self-harmed as a teenager, but that had long since stopped. After we married, she—” He broke off, worrying his lip. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine. Go on.”

“About six months before Nancy died, I-I came home to find her with cuts on her arms. Tanis told me she’d found Nancy cutting herself in the parlor. Nancy denied doing them herself, but she wouldn’t say who did or offer any explanation as to how else they could have happened.”

Something fell into place. Those cuts were the same shape as Meggie’s. He’d have to talk to someone, but not now. This guy was here to help him with the financial side of things, not the spiritual.

He opened the briefcase. “It was a long time ago and my word, and gut instinct, against an official report counted for nothing. Meggie is the first woman since Nancy that I’ve felt anything for. Your sister is an amazing woman.”

BOOK: Saturday's Child
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