A Summer Promise (30 page)

Maddy stared at her grandmother. ‘Oh, Gran, how could you?’ she said in a low voice. ‘But I do hope you’ve told these – these people – that you don’t own Larkspur outright. You told me years ago that only a member of the family can own it. And I’m your only living relative.’

In actual fact, Maddy had no idea whether or not such an arrangement was legally binding, but Gran was wiping away a tear, and then blowing her nose noisily. ‘I told them it couldn’t be right to take your home,’ she mumbled. ‘It’s been in our family since ancient times, going from generation to generation; sometimes a feller inherits, sometimes a woman. It doesn’t matter so long as they’re a Hebditch by blood.’ She banged rather feebly on the arm of her chair, turning her head back towards Mrs O’Halloran. ‘I
warned
you; I said Maddy’s dad should have inherited when I die, only as it happens there was the accident and he were killed, leaving his share to his little daughter.’

‘Well there you are; plain as a pikestaff,’ Mrs O’Halloran said triumphantly. But Maddy could hear the twinge of doubt in her voice. ‘A child of five can’t inherit.’ She rounded suddenly on Maddy. ‘Did you think we’d go on working, and you and your gran the only ones to benefit? Neither of you have done a hand’s turn for years and when you did’ – she pointed at Maddy – ‘it was such simple things as feedin’ the poultry and fetchin’ in vegetables for the market . . . something anyone could do. So now you can take yourself off.’ The older woman smirked as she spoke, but Maddy was heartened to recognise her uncertainty. ‘The papers your gran signed were signed by us as well, to say that as long as she kept her promise to give us the farm we would work for her on the present terms. But there was no word of you, Miss Madeleine Hebditch, not the tiniest mention, so you’ve no right here, and the sooner you get out the better.’

Maddy got to her feet. ‘Just a minute. I’ve a few questions which need answers,’ she said. ‘Who are all these people living here? One is obviously your sister – you’re like as two peas in a pod – and I suppose the other may be a niece, but what are they doing here?’

As she spoke, the back door opened and Declan came in. He greeted her politely enough but she saw his eyes dart from Gran to his wife and back again, and read the anxiety there, so she addressed him directly. ‘Mr O’Halloran, it’s not that I want to argue with you over who owns what, but you will understand that I can’t simply let you take what belongs to my grandmother and myself. I realise the state we would be in without you, but you had no right to introduce your relatives on to Hebditch property, and still less right to tell my grandmother that she could cut me out of my inheritance.’

Declan O’Halloran’s smile was ingratiating and Maddy was pretty sure that he and his wife had not agreed over the legality of their claim. ‘I said you’d not like it; well, who would?’ he said softly. ‘But I’ll come into town with you any time you want, and we’ll both read the Deed of Gift, make sure it’s legal like. If we really do own Larkspur then we’ll continue as we are, except you and your gran must pull your weight. But if we aren’t the true owners of house, grounds and acreage, we’ll not be stoppin’, which will put you in as much bother as if it were all ours.’ His grin became downright wicked. ‘So it seems to me that us’ll win whichever way the truth lies. You’ll never manage this place with just your old gran, not even with a couple of them evacuees what’s growin’ too old for school.’ His grin widened. ‘I gives you the truth, missie. Which will you choose?’

Maddy gulped. ‘I’ll come with you to see the deed when I’ve talked things over with – with friends who know the law . . .’

Mr O’Halloran grinned. ‘Any time’s fine by me, but you’ll find all’s in order, you’ll see.’

It was clear to Maddy that the O’Hallorans believed they had the upper hand. What could she and Gran do, after all? But some time before she left Yorkshire she would have to see what could be done about Gran’s unreliable behaviour. Fancy giving away her granddaughter’s birthright as well as her own. Declan seemed positive that all was legal and above board, but Maddy was not so sure and meant to look into things as soon as she could do so.

When she announced that she intended to sleep on a camp bed in Gran’s room, however, she was speedily disillusioned. ‘There ain’t no camp bed to spare; me sister and two of me nieces have come all the way from the south to help out at Larkspur,’ Mrs O’Halloran interrupted. ‘You’ll find there’s plenty of bed and breakfast places only too willin’ to take you in. We have our main meal around six, and you’ll not want to hang around here for all that time when you could be lookin’ up old pals. You’ll want to tek a look at Windhover Hall, no doubt; no end of soldiers were billeted there but a good few have moved on now. Did you know Mr Thwaite were dead?’ She clicked her tongue and pulled a sad face, but Maddy thought there was little sorrow in her sloe-black eyes.

‘Yes, I knew,’ she said, ‘and I don’t need a camp bed; I’ll sleep on the floor.’ Then she turned to Gran. ‘But now I might stroll over there, have a word with anyone I know. Didn’t you say in one of your letters that Dr Carlton had arranged for you to have a bath chair? I could wheel you to Windhover Hall and back again if you fancy a change of scene?’

Gran brightened. ‘Dr Carlton said . . .’ she was beginning when Mrs O’Halloran cut across her words.

‘Your gran ain’t been out of the house for a twelvemonth; it don’t do to rush things,’ she said decidedly. ‘You’d have to take it slow, wrap her in a shawl – it can be nippy even in springtime if you’re not used to going out . . .’ She pretended to consider. ‘Perhaps you should leave it a while till you’ve had some practice with that there chair.’

Maddy sighed; she could see the sense of this but was secretly sure that Mrs O’Halloran’s words were just an excuse to keep her and Gran apart. She looked steadily at the older woman before turning to her grandmother. ‘If you’ve not been using the bath chair then I dare say it could do with a clean and perhaps some air in the tyres and oil on the joints. You stay here with Mrs O’Halloran whilst I go and strip it down.’ She turned to the Irish woman. ‘And since, whatever you may say, I still regard this as my home I shall invite myself to lunch and to the evening meal; I
do
hope you don’t mind.’ As she spoke she gave Mrs O’Halloran her most charming smile and was pleased to see the other woman bristle a little, showing clearly that she had never even considered that Maddy might have any claim on the house.

She guessed that, one way or another, she would be discouraged from taking her grandmother anywhere which was out of the O’Hallorans’ hearing, and later she was proved right. When she quietly suggested to Gran that she should pop on her coat and hat, saying she would help her into the now sparkling clean bath chair when they were clear of the farmyard, Gran shook a reluctant head. ‘Better not; Declan says there’s a sharp little wind and my old bones like warmth,’ she said. ‘You go off to the Hall; did you know it’s a military hospital now? I’ve not seen it myself, of course, but I believe it was a terrible mess, took a whole team of Tommies two or three weeks to get it suitable for wounded men, though they tell me that now you could eat your dinner off the floor. There’s them as says it’s even cleaner than it was in Mr Thwaite’s time. What about that, eh?’

Maddy waved goodbye to Gran and set off, but halfway towards the gate she remembered something and stopped. ‘Where are the geese?’ she demanded of Declan, who had just come out of the stables. ‘Don’t tell me you’ve gone and sold the whole flock! They were worth any amount of money, because their eggs were huge and always sold for a good price. What’s more, you couldn’t get better watchdogs if you searched for months. And come to think of it, I didn’t see old Snoops when I passed his kennel.’

She had stopped in the middle of the farmyard to cross-question Declan and saw what might have been a slight blush redden his cheeks, though he spoke confidently enough. ‘Them geese! Everyone who came to Larkspur got bit or attacked in some way; seems they don’t like visitors. So we sold ’em at a market a couple of years back to some feller who liked the look of ’em.’ He tilted a defiant chin. ‘And how could them possibly be valuable? They was the same as the poultry, only bigger . . .’

Maddy stamped her foot; she knew it was foolish to cry over spilt milk, but there had always been geese at Larkspur and this man had no right to sell them without permission, which she was sure he had done. Moreover, they would not let a stranger approach the house, which had been comforting when she and Gran had been alone there. She turned on Declan, her eyes sparkling with annoyance. ‘And what about Snoops? He was a first-rate sheep worker. Don’t tell me you’ve sold him too?’

Declan sniggered; there was no other word for it. ‘Sold him to Mr Sutherland; got a tidy sum for
him
,’ he said laconically. ‘And now you can just stop asking questions and tek yourself off.’

Maddy gave him a look of blazing dislike and turned her shoulder on him, setting off once more towards Windhover Hall. She had always rather liked Declan, certainly had thought him preferable to his wife, but when they had worked together it had always been out of doors, generally in the vegetable garden. Tom had advised her long ago not to be taken in by Declan’s occasional friendliness when it suited him to imply they were in league together against what he had called ‘them indoors’, by which he meant Gran and Mrs O’Halloran. ‘He isn’t just two-faced, he’ll run with the hare and hunt with the hounds, that one will,’ Tom had said sagely. ‘I dare say he is easier to get along with than his wife, but don’t you go trusting him, young Maddy.’

At the time, Maddy had laughed at him. ‘Oh, Mr O’Halloran’s all right,’ she had said airily. ‘It’s his wife that rules the roost, but me and him get round her sometimes. For instance, Mrs O once wanted us to plant lots of peas, but we took no notice and put in early potatoes instead. Mr O said it was better for the soil, and when she grumbled he just grinned at me and we planted earlies just the same.’

Tom had shrugged. ‘Please yourself, but watch him,’ he had repeated, suddenly smiling broadly. ‘And one of the things I like most is new potatoes, hot from the pan, with a dab or two of butter, so I certainly wouldn’t have argued in favour of peas!’

Remembering that long ago conversation, Maddy decided that she would write to Tom, when she had got to the bottom of what was going on here, and tell him that he had been right all along. Dec had proved with every word he had spoken that so far as taking sides was concerned he was lined up with the enemy and would probably lie, cheat and steal for the gold at the end of the rainbow: the farm which had been in her family for centuries. Sighing, Maddy paused on the bank of the beck where she had stood so often with Tom or Alice and gazed into the depths hoping to catch a glimpse of a water baby. She remembered Charles Kingsley’s book with warm nostalgia and suddenly remembered that it might well still be in the summer house, in the hiding place they had made for it; would it be stealing to go into the garden and, if the book was still there, to take it? She had a longing suddenly to see once again the pictures which had so enchanted her. And seeing the book would somehow be a link with Tom, and with Alice too.

Maddy began to tread the well-remembered path then stopped, giving herself a shake. Ridiculous, to simply accept the O’Hallorans’ word that Larkspur Farm was as good as theirs. Gran had admitted to signing over the property as a Deed of Gift, but judging by the expression on her face she had been trying to intimate to her granddaughter that she had signed under duress. After all, Maddy herself had more than once heard Mrs O’Halloran threatening to leave if Gran made a fuss about something. It was no light matter, when one was as old as Gran, to suddenly find oneself alone in a ramshackle farmhouse, a good two miles from any shops or public transport. She decided that instead of going to the Hall, after looking for the book she would walk into the village and arrange for a taxi to call the very next day to take her and Gran into the town. Once there, they would go to the office where the Deed of Gift was held and explain to the solicitor that for one thing the farm was not Gran’s to give and for another she had signed the deed under duress.

Having made up her mind on which course to take, Maddy felt a good deal happier. She had ten days’ leave and so far had only used up two of them. By the time she had to return to her battery she felt sure she would have solved the problem, and how she would enjoy the crestfallen looks on the O’Hallorans’ faces when they realised she had not been duped. Of course she would have to make some sort of arrangement so that Gran would not be left alone, but for the time being it would be sufficient just to make certain that the Deed of Gift was null and void, as she was sure it must be. Maddy began to hurry, thanking Providence that it seemed likely she and Gran would escape from this horrid tangle without too much difficulty. How right Tom had been. Without her husband’s wholehearted approval of her devious plans Mrs O’Halloran would never have dared to walk into a solicitor’s office, far less to pay an unnamed sum for his services. Good old Tom! If she had taken his advice years ago the present situation would never have arisen, but at least she and Gran would soon be on the right road.

Maddy went down the path which led first to the summer house and then to the Hall itself. The garden was grievously neglected, with weeds waist high in places, but the summer house must have been used by the patients, for the floor had been swept and the benches too, so it was still a pleasant retreat. Maddy peeped in the window nearest her and, seeing nobody, went to the old hiding place which she and Alice had used for the book. She lifted the loose plank and was disproportionately disappointed to find that the dusty hollow was empty. For a moment she could only stare; she had managed to convince herself, as she had pushed through the multitude of weeds and wild flowers, that neglect alone would have saved the book from discovery, but it was plainly not so. The book had disappeared and with it, Maddy realised, her right, if you could call it that, to be in the summer house. When Alice had been about to be packed off to India, her uncle had told her that she might keep the book, but Maddy was pretty sure that Alice had left the volume hidden for any one of the remaining trio to take possession of, should they so wish.