Chapter 26
Unknown to Marnie, the previous night there had been a meeting in the Lemon Villa. The whole village had been summoned – except for Marnie, but then it looked as if she wasn’t at home anyway. Her car hadn’t been there since Saturday but sadly, it appeared to Kay Sweetman that she hadn’t done a moonlight flit because she could still see her things in Little Raspberries when she peered through the window.
Titus, who had called the gathering, obviously took charge. Everyone sat around the table in his dining room; Hilary and Pammy Parselow bustled around distributing refreshments to everyone before it started. For those who had not been in the Lemon Villa before, it was quite eye-opening how opulent the interior was. Homes and Gardens magazine perfect. There were no damp patches on the walls or draughty windows for Titus and Hilary Sutton.
Titus knocked on the table with his teaspoon to stop all the twittering.
‘I thought we should have a formal meeting in the light of . . . recent events.’ He chose his words carefully. ‘I can see absolutely no reason why the new owner of Wychwell has decided to stay anonymous. Can we all swear that none of us around this table is Lilian’s chosen heir?’
‘I think that is unfair to ask,’ said Lionel, immediately bringing suspicion to his door. ‘They have no obligation to declare themselves. Whoever he or she is has done so for a reason.’
‘What possible reason can there be?’ asked Kay Sweetman.
‘There is only one reason and that is because they don’t want to. We are therefore forced to accept that. Besides, they have delegated the running of the estate to Miss Salt,’ replied Lionel. ‘It is her we will have to deal with respecting any village matters.’
‘I think it is her,’ said Ruby. ‘Then if she does something unpopular, she can just fend off any blame on “the new owner”.’ She drew two emphatic quote marks in the air.
There was a nodding of heads at that and low grumbles of agreement.
‘But who is to say that it is someone who lives in Wychwell?’ asked Herv. ‘Maybe Lilian decided to leave it to someone outside the village.’
‘Who? Margaret Kytson?’ scoffed Titus, causing Kay to humour him with a chortle.
‘Maybe Margaret had a descendant we don’t know about,’ put in Hilary. ‘Lilian was always so keen to make amends for what had happened to her at the hands of her ancestors.’
‘Go and fill up the teapots, Hilary,’ said Titus dismissively. ‘What a ridiculous imagination you have.’
Hilary coloured and Lionel, angered by Titus’s put-down of his wife was driven to defend her.
‘I don’t think it’s ridiculous at all. Lilian was fascinated by family trees. She and I worked on her own for years. She may have discovered something that hasn’t yet come to full light.’
‘Or maybe someone is about to sell our houses from under our feet,’ snapped Una.
‘They can’t sell any houses,’ countered David, who didn’t say much but when he did, he always spoke considered sense and fact. ‘The manor cannot be sold, only inherited. The houses cannot be sold, only rented out by the estate.’
‘How come you know so much about it, all of a sudden, David Parselow?’ asked Titus with narrowed eyes.
‘I thought everyone knew that. It’s not rocket science, is it?’ David answered. ‘Admit it, we’ve had it far too good for far too long. We pay stupidly cheap rents and between us all we have creamed off the estate and yet here we all are, in a “state of shock” ’ – he wiggled his fingers in the air as Ruby had done – ‘that Lilian has been subsidising us all out of her own money for years.’
‘But we didn’t know that, David,’ said Roger.
‘Oh come on, Roger, how much is the rent on the shop and your flat above it?’
Roger pursed his mouth, gravely affronted. ‘I don’t think that’s anyone’s business but—’
‘Okay, I’ll tell you what I pay on the pub. I pay twenty pounds a month. And I’ve always paid that. My father paid even less. And that covers all my heating, my water, my rates, any maintenance. And because I hardly have any customers, I also get a business stipend from the estate – a loyalty payment, as she called it. I hold my hands up’ – and he did, physically – ‘I didn’t question it. I didn’t go to Lilian and say that she should put my rent up and stop paying me a bonus. I took it because it was offered and I believed that the estate was so rich it could afford to do that.’
‘I don’t think that Marnie pays anything on Little Raspberries,’ sniffed Una. ‘From what I gather . . .’
‘I don’t think she’s the only one who doesn’t pay rent though, is she?’ asked Lionel, his voice rising, his eyes sweeping across everyone in the room. Kay Sweetman lowered her head immediately. ‘For a start, half the cottages in Wychwell are standing empty and have done for years since their residents died and so they’re bringing in no revenue whatsoever.’
‘No one who stays in Little Raspberries has ever paid rent,’ put in Alice Rootwood, who lived in Orange House and had always thought that they’d had it too good to believe.
‘Precisely,’ Lionel went on. ‘It’s a charity cottage, given to whoever needed it: Jessie Plumpton and before her my great uncle Jack. And I happen to know that it sits very heavily with Marnie that she lives there rent-free, but it was Lilian’s cottage to let it to Marnie on whatever grounds she chose. And that was their private business, not ours.’
‘How do you know all this, with respect, Mr Temple?’ asked Ruby, her veneer of politeness stretched thin over a depth of annoyance. ‘She’s only been in the village for two minutes and suddenly she’s the flavour of the month.’
Emelie made a nervous cough. ‘I think you are being unfair, Ruby,’ she said. ‘Lilian knew her very well and they were incredibly fond of each other.’
‘It’s very easy to be fond of someone when you know they own a manor and are ill,’ Ruby threw back. ‘Don’t you thi—’
‘Marnie isn’t like that at all,’ Herv cut her off, his voice hard. ‘Don’t make out that their trust in and respect for each other was fake when it wasn’t.’
Ruby, doubly wounded by Herv turning on her and defending her arch rival, shrivelled into herself.
‘Titus, you did the books for the estate. How was it that you didn’t know that Lilian was in so much financial trouble?’ asked Emelie, finding her voice now. And her courage.
Titus, annoyed beyond belief that this question could have come from Emelie Tibbs, a woman his father detested and for good reason, managed to overcome his impulse to scream back at her that she shouldn’t be here in this meeting, in this village. She shouldn’t even be sharing the same air as the rest of them considering what she was, what she came from. He switched on his best patronising smile instead. ‘My dear Emelie, what are you inferring?’
‘I’m not inferring anything,’ she came back at him, mirroring that fake smile. ‘I’m merely asking why you didn’t see what trouble she was in. Or maybe you did?’
Titus’s facade slipped. ‘Lilian only let me see what she wanted me to see. I had absolutely no idea of any of this. My family have advised the Dearmans for generations. We are kinfolk. Do you think I would have let this happen if I’d known?’
‘Yes, I do,’ said Emelie defiantly.
Titus’s face coloured. Anticipating a war, Lionel stood up and held out his hands, a gesture of peace.
‘Look, let’s keep the heat out of this. We have had the meeting as agreed and we are no further forward. We do not know who the new lord or lady of Wychwell is. All we do know is that we are in a mess and Lilian Dearman made plans before she died with this person to place Miss Salt in charge of the estate. We can do nothing other than give her our support and let her get on with trying to rescue the situation. Lilian trusted her and we should do the same.’
‘Who is this Miss Salt anyway?’ asked old Dr Court. They were the oldest living couple in Wychwell and the possible changes were very worrying to them. ‘I mean where has she come from?’
Titus had his suspicions but he wanted to keep that to himself for now. Until he knew for certain. Until he had checked out a few things.
‘Lilian met Marnie on the internet,’ said Cilla, merely answering the question and not expecting the uproar that followed.
Johnny Oldroyd didn’t say a word though because he’d met his girlfriend through the internet and she was brilliant. Titus, however, took that as being the best possible indicator that Marnie was a crook.
‘Lilian wasn’t a fool, Titus,’ said Lionel, keeping tight rein on his temper. ‘She was an insightful judge of character.’
‘Aye, great judge of character if she’s run off,’ huffed Una.
‘Marnie will be back, I have no doubt about that. Lilian didn’t put her faith in people lightly,’ said Lionel, adding to himself with one most blatant exception and flicking his eyes towards the odious Titus.
Herv stepped in again. ‘What you all may be not taking into consideration is that Marnie and Lilian loved each other. Lilian died in Marnie’s arms. I was there, it was terrible for her. She tried to bring Lilian back and failed.’
‘How convenient,’ tittered Kay Sweetman.
‘Please tell me you aren’t insinuating that Marnie killed Lilian,’ said David.
‘Well, if the cap fits.’
‘How dare you,’ bawled Lionel, with a growl in his voice that none of them had ever heard before. He was joined by others who thought to imply murder was too much and Kay, who’d been expecting a hail of ‘hear hears’ not jeer jeers found herself shamed into silence.
‘If I can continue,’ boomed Herv. ‘For Marnie to have this trauma and then to discover that she has been landed with a burden of responsibility she was not expecting which would bring with it all this hostility . . . well, maybe she needed some time away to sort out her head, as you might say.’
‘Well said, Herv,’ said Derek, which earned him a thump on his leg from his wife.
‘What if she puts our rent up to a thousand pounds a week?’ asked Una.
‘She can’t,’ replied Roger. ‘Surely? Can she? Titus?’
Titus cleared his throat. ‘Well, theoretically, yes she can.’
‘There are laws to stop that,’ said Ruby.
‘Because of the original charter, set up in 1538, Wychwell is not subject to general English law with regards to properties et cetera,’ explained Lionel. ‘If Miss Salt is in charge, then – with the permission of the owner – she can do as she pleases.’
‘And if we all refuse to pay?’ said Kay with a defiant twist to her lip.
David Parselow, who wasn’t a fan of the Sweetmans, was only too happy to answer her.
‘Then we’ll all be out on our arses, won’t we?’