Sheltering from a cool breeze Leo leaned against a wide oak and looked back at the house. He lit a cigarette, striking the match on the tree’s bark, and noticed his hand shaking. Inhaling smoke he cursed under his breath. He didn’t want to get married, not to Sylvia Davenport or anyone else. Just because a girl from the village blamed him for her pregnancy his father believed it, hence the hasty wedding to Sylvia. His father wouldn’t take no for an answer, especially as Sylvia came from a rich family. Edmund Deverell had dug his heels in. Thank goodness Daisy had kept her mouth shut, or the fat would be in the fire. The sooner she was married off the better. Treweeks had a soft spot for Daisy; perhaps he’d like her for a wife. Leo pondered for a moment on how much money to offer the landlord for the privilege.
Once his wedding was over, his mother had made it clear she wished to return to her native Scotland for a few months, to be near her aging mother, and was insisting that her husband accompany her. If his father relented and was willing to hand over the management of Tapscott Manor to him, then Leo predicted that when the nuptials were all over, and Sylvia’s parents had returned to Derbyshire, life for him would probably go on just the same as it always had.
His efforts to manipulate his father through his mother to get rid of John Farrell hadn’t worked, and John was still Leo’s main worry. Certainly Laurence’s death had been retribution for his own attack on Ellen and Amy. Leo’s expression softened as he thought of Amy and he wondered if she was all right. He missed the girl’s cheeky grin and bright sea-green eyes. He felt sorry for hurting her, ashamed even. He’d make it up to her when she returned from North Wales, he thought, his mood lifting. Leo wasn’t certain whether his twin brother’s death had been a mistake or intentional, but he was sure the intended victim was himself. He knew, given the chance, that John would hurt him for what he’d done to his daughter, but while he had a job at the Manor it provided his family with Primrose Cottage, so for now Leo felt safe. Leo thought John would keep his peace, at least while Edmund and Martha were still around. But what was to stop Farrell informing the Davenports once his parents were out of the way in Scotland? Leo knew that, even after the marriage, if there was any hint of scandal the Davenports would have him straight in the divorce courts, and it would be goodbye to the Davenport fortune. As far as Leo was concerned two options lay open to him. One was to get Sylvia pregnant as soon as he could. A child cements a marriage. The Davenports would think twice before bringing any action against their son-in-law then. The second was to get rid of John Farrell.
Leo began walking back towards Tapscott Manor. The fresh air had done him good and by the time he’d reached the house, an idea had begun to form.
His room was still stuffy, the fire banked up and roaring. Leo pushed up a sash window, allowing in fresh air, and then settled down in his armchair. A smirk played around the corners of his mouth as he let his plan take shape. It had to be done. Ellen and the children he could handle. Jim might cause a problem, but he’d cross that bridge when he came to it. No, Leo knew the only way he and the reputation of his family would ever be safe was to get rid of John Farrell, and he knew just the man to help him do it.
Chapter 24
The Weekly News newspaper shop in Bridge Street was two doors down from Lanceley’s estate agents. On her way to work, Leonie called in to buy a daily paper and her usual mid-morning snack, a Kit Kat or Mars bar, depending on her mood. She also picked up the week’s edition of the
Centurion
.
Shelley, the receptionist, smiled and tried to judge Leonie’s mood. ‘Coffee’s on,’ she said to Leonie’s back as her boss swept past and went into her office. Shelley poured out coffee for Leonie, herself and the other two employees, Tracy, the administrator, and Mark, the sales negotiator. Shelley had read the article on the front page of the
Centurion
already, so nervously she knocked on Leonie’s office door, walked in and carefully placed the mug on a coaster then braced herself.
‘What the hell!’ Leonie glared at Shelley over the top of the paper. ‘Get out.’
Shelley didn’t need telling twice and hurried back to the safety of her own desk. The others watched her emerge from Leonie’s room and knew from Shelley’s expression they were all in for a rough day.
Leonie poked at her mobile’s buttons as if they were to blame and screeched down the phone when David answered. ‘Have you seen this week’s
Centurion
, David?’
‘No. Not yet,’ David answered calmly. He hadn’t had time to read the paper, but guessed to what his sister was referring. The previous Monday afternoon seemed surreal now.
‘Well, get a copy immediately and read it. Those Farrells of yours have found some skeletons in their garden. It’s all over the front page,’ Leonie said irritably.
‘Oh that,’ David replied flatly and listened while Leonie read him snippets of the report, bringing to his mind all the gory details. The reporters had had a field day with it.
‘I have to see you today; we need to talk about this. Will you meet me at Dolton’s for lunch?’
‘I’m not sure I can.’ David stalled for time. He couldn’t imagine a more daunting prospect than a tête-à-tête with his sister. Saturday was looming, his busiest day of the week. He had two wedding ceremonies to conduct and needed to finish off the last of the arrangements with the soon-to-be newlyweds. The last thing he needed was his sister giving him grief. Patiently he explained this to her.
‘I don’t want to hear excuses, just be there. Twelve o’clock and don’t be late,’ Leonie told him and then put the phone down before David could refuse again. She sat drumming her fingers on the table, wondering what the discovery could mean. Maybe it would be in her interest to visit her aunt Sophia after all. ‘Damn those interfering Farrells,’ she muttered.
***
The tables and chairs outside Dolton’s wine bar were vacant because of the weather. The overcast sky had a steely glaze, with flat clouds hanging low. Behind the grey clouds a golden glow promised sunshine but no one was taking a chance. A downpour seemed imminent and everyone had piled inside. Leonie was shown to a corner table, as private as they were going to get. Not in the mood to waste time waiting for her brother to pick and choose, she ordered for them both.
‘I’ve ordered a Caesar Salad with a side plate of chips. Okay?’ she said when David arrived and sat in the seat opposite her. ‘I wasn’t sure if you wanted a cold drink or coffee?’
‘Coffee, yes,’ said David. He was pleased with the choice of food. Dolton’s had a good reputation and he was looking forward to his meal. By the look on Leonie’s face, he’d probably end up with indigestion if he ate anything heavy.
‘Have you read it yet?’ she asked.
‘Yes.’ David nodded and glanced around the room, avoiding Leonie’s stare.
‘What do you think about it?’ Leonie looked at her brother expectantly, waiting for an answer, and took a sip of her wine. Remembering she had a viewing in Farndon at three p.m., and needed to keep a clear head, she realised ordering wine had been a bad idea. She already had six points on her driving licence so she put her glass back down onto the table.
David observed her over the rim of his latte glass. Just then the waitress arrived at their table with the food and he waited until she had gone.
‘Let’s eat first,’ he suggested, feeling reprieved.
After the meal David looked at his sister and took a breath. Time to start the conversation he’d been putting off for the last thirty minutes. ‘So, two skeletons have been found, one of them a baby, in Primrose Cottage’s garden. How does it affect us exactly?’
‘Don’t be dim, David. It doesn’t, not directly anyway. But what I’m worried about is, if they start dredging up the John Farrell saga, our name is bound to be dragged in. It probably won’t affect you, but it could do a lot of damage to my business.’
‘Our name, I’m not with you. Do you know something I don’t, Leonie?’
‘You know what I’m talking about.’
‘I’m presuming you mean the Deverells. We’re Lanceleys. Beatrice Deverell was our great grandmother and we’re not responsible for what happened nearly a hundred years ago. Just as Amelia and Grace are not responsible, please remember that. I doubt anyone will make the connection anyway.’
‘I suppose you’re right. I don’t like it, that’s all.’
‘Well, you don’t need to worry. I made sure I was there when they unearthed the things. In my professional capacity you understand. It was morbid, I can tell you, and not something I enjoyed.’
Leonie gaped at him. ‘You were there. Oh God, David, you’re so infuriating. Why didn’t you tell me that before?’
‘There was nothing to tell.’ David shrugged.
‘How come you were involved?’
‘Amelia. You know, the young woman you met at the vicarage, she asked me for my help. They, Amelia and her sister, dug up a wooden box of sorts in their garden and didn’t want to open it on their own. You can understand that. I honestly believed it would be one of Lillian’s mangy cats. I feel sorry for Amelia actually. It’s her sister, Grace, who started all this. She found a gravestone in the garden with their surname on it and decided to find out who put it there. From what I can gather, it’s an obsession with her. Well, now it serves her right. With all her meddling she’s landed them with two skeletons unaccounted for.’
Leonie looked at him aghast. ‘I’m not surprised she’s a bit put out. It must have been a bit of a shock.’
‘Anyway, I got Nathan to come with me and he obliged them with a bit of their family history. Their father obviously thought better than to dredge up the dross.’
‘Nathan Brock? Why involve him?’
‘He visited me on Monday evening. He’s helping to organise the Woodbury Summer Fair and asked if I would judge some of the contests. When I told him where I was going, and what for, he offered to help. You know what he’s like. Nathan’s convinced he’s one of the Deverells, always going on about Leo Deverell his great grandfather, or so he wishes. He’s got all that from Doreen, of course. It was easy to persuade him to leave certain parts of the story out, Sophia for instance, and he went along with it. Nathan loves the sound of his own voice so I let him ramble on, and Amelia and Grace Farrell only know what I want them to. So, you see, there is nothing for you to worry about.’ David smiled smugly.
‘You are a sly old fox.’ Leonie leaned back, assessing her brother, seeing him in a new light. ‘I’m impressed.’ Leonie shook her head and laughed. The sound wasn’t pleasant. A few diners turned and looked her way but she was oblivious to them. Raising her wine glass to David, they drank a toast. ‘To twins,’ Leonie said and David joined in the laughter, his latte glass and Leonie’s wine glass chinking against each other. She winked at him and took a gulp of wine.
Leonie said goodbye to her brother and headed back to her office with one person on her mind. Nathan Brock. Unfortunately he would have to wait until after the viewing in Farndon.
Chapter 25
Nathan spent the afternoon in the offices of Gerrard and Gafferty Solicitors with one eye on the clock. The telephone call from Leonie Lanceley intrigued him, and he could hardly wait until close of business, when he would find out exactly what she wanted. He’d already had one shock that morning when the senior partner, Mr Gerrard, had declared his intended visit to see Sophia Deverell. Nathan suspected it was as his grandmother had envisaged. Sophia was going to alter her will to include the Farrell sisters.
It was something he could surprise Leonie with, he mused. It would give Leonie a shock to the system, and no doubt David too, when he found out. Nathan smiled to himself as he pictured Leonie’s reddening face as she expostulated and cursed the Farrells.
The afternoon dragged, but at last it was five o’clock and Nathan picked up his briefcase and keys and headed out of the office. He had arranged to meet Leonie in a pub on the corner of Bridge Street and Grosvenor Road, so he left his motorbike in the car park and walked the short way to the pub.
Leonie was late, so Nathan ordered a pint of Carlsberg and settled on a bench in one of the more secluded corners. The early doors crowd hadn’t arrived yet, so he had a good view of both entrances and waved to Leonie when at last she arrived.
Leonie acknowledged Nathan with a nod and made straight for the bar. With a vodka and tonic in her hand she sat down beside him and took a sip. Glancing around the lounge area, she approved of Nathan’s choice of seating. Once the regulars came in they would almost be concealed from view.
‘So’, Nathan said, ‘you want me to do you a favour.’
Leonie eyed Nathan over the rim of her glass as she took another swallow. ‘Yes. I expect you have guessed what it’s about.’
Nathan raised his shoulders in a shrug. ‘No idea,’ he replied, determined to make her beg.
‘Okay. You met Amelia and Grace Farrell the other evening, didn’t you? David told me you helped him with the coffin they found.’
‘Yes. That’s right.’
‘Also, you told them about Sophia, didn’t you?’ Leonie stared at Nathan, ready to catch him out in a lie.
‘David asked me not to, as you probably already know.’ Nathan was fed up with the third degree. He had mentioned Sophia to Amelia and Grace, but he wasn’t going to admit it to Leonie. He’d already had a telling off from his grandmother, for telling them Sophia was a relative of theirs. ‘Look Leonie, what’s all this about? You said you wanted me to do something for you: what is it?’
‘I think that now Sophia knows about these Farrells, she’ll consider changing her will in their favour. The solicitors you work for handle all of the Deverells’ legal work. So what I want you to do is this. Find out for sure if she has contacted them about changing her will. If she has, hide, lose or destroy any paperwork to do with it. We must delay any documentation from being signed by her.’ Leonie looked at Nathan. ‘You understand what I’m saying, don’t you?’
‘Yes, I do. But do you understand that I could lose my job if it was found out? This is a massive thing you’re asking, Leonie. Besides, what benefit is it to me, if I do?’ Nathan shook his head. He felt like asking her what had she ever done for him. The answer was zero. She’d never acknowledge the fact that he had Deverell blood in him too. With a jolt Nathan suddenly realised how this could affect him and why his grandmother was so agitated, so he stayed silent and waited for Leonie to speak.