‘The house is part of your wage though, Cilla. You wouldn’t be expected to pay rent.’
‘But when I retire, that’ll all change, won’t it? I was forty-two when I had Zoe . . .’
Marnie did the maths. Then she remembered something that Ruby Sweetman had told her about Zoe wanting to go off to university and she wondered if the girl felt obliged to stay working for the manor so she could keep a roof over the family heads.
‘Cilla, I shall make the strongest case possible that you can stay in your cottage for life. Lilian would have wanted to look after you. No doubt Johnny and Zoe will be ready to flee the nest one day but don’t worry that when you retire, you’ll be out on your backside. That cottage must be cramped with four of you in it. I bet it’ll be a relief when they find a place of their own.’
‘It’s cosy, I’ll give you that,’ said Cilla, with an attempt at a laugh. ‘I think Johnny will stay around here, he’s as happy as a pig in muck trailing around after Herv, but I know Zoe wants to go to university.’ Marnie noticed Zoe appear in the doorway and then do a double-back out of the way when she saw that her mum wasn’t alone.
‘You should let her go then, Cilla,’ said Marnie.
‘It’s the money though, isn’t it,’ said Cilla, blowing her nose on a disintegrated tissue that she’d taken from her apron pocket.
‘Somehow most of them manage,’ replied Marnie, pulling a new packet of them out of her bag and handing it to Cilla.
‘Thank you, Marnie. We’d have been all right for money, you know, if we hadn’t been silly with it. A few years ago, we invested in one of those sure-fire schemes. We shouldn’t lose, he said, no one had before. But we had to accept that it was a gamble and there was a tiny chance we might. Anyway, we were unlucky and we lost everything we put in.’ Cilla shrugged. ‘It wasn’t his fault, it was ours because that’s what you get for gambling. He was so sorry, though, he felt so bad . . .’
‘Who was this?’ asked Marnie.
‘Titus,’ Cilla replied.
Marnie was livid when she walked into the dining room. She slammed the box with the cheesecake in it down on the middle of the table and made a deep growl of frustration. Herv was already there, poring over a ledger.
‘My goodness, what’s happened?’ he asked.
‘All roads lead to Titus sodding Sutton in this village,’ said Marnie. ‘I am going to have a great deal of satisfaction in cutting off his financial oxygen.’
‘Can I buy a ticket to watch?’ Herv grinned.
Marnie only answered with another growl.
‘I’ll go and get a knife and plates,’ said Herv, rubbing his hands together. He returned with them minutes later along with two cups of coffee. Marnie had just about calmed down by then.
‘I started at nine,’ he said. ‘You won’t believe what else I found.’
‘Oh, I would,’ said Marnie.
‘Titus has been also charging his golf membership to the estate.’
‘Why am I not surprised?’ Marnie threw her hands up in the air. ‘I thought Lilian was supposed to be a good judge of character, so why didn’t she see what he was doing under her nose?’ It didn’t make sense to Marnie.
Herv cut himself an enormous piece of cheesecake. ‘My, this looks so good. What I think is she had no interest in money at all. In the days of her father there was plenty of it, so all the little swindles could be well hidden. But Titus is really greedy and hasn’t stolen a tiny amount which wouldn’t be noticed, he’s bled the bank dry. He started looking after the accounts thirty-one years ago. Up to then, I found the Helliwells had been paying rent on the farm. I think they still are and Titus has been syphoning it off for himself.’
Every page of those ledgers brought sighs of despair of varying degrees. Titus had been like a kid in a sweet shop, it seems. Stealing the odd thing from the penny tray, then on finding he could get away with that easily, nicking the whole tray. Then upping his game until he was raiding the shelves in full view of the shopkeeper who appeared to be blind to it all. Had he inherited the manor as he thought, he might not have been able to sell it but he would have stripped it completely and sold all the portraits, even the panelling from the walls. Goodness knows what he would have tried to charge everyone in rents to finance his lavish lifestyle. He obviously didn’t give Hilary any of his money because the last time Marnie spotted her, she’d recognised her beige stripey raincoat as the one on the Asda George TV advert.
Herv left at three-thirty with the rest of the cheesecake which he claimed ‘for services rendered’. He was going out that evening with one of the teachers he’d befriended when he first came over to England, he said. He didn’t say what sex that teacher was and Marnie hadn’t asked but wished she had because, for a reason she was reticent to admit to, she would have liked him to have confirmed it was a male one.
The meeting with Derek cut out the teacher-gender second-guessing for a while at least. She was nervous about what she had to say to him, nervous about what carnage it might trigger. He arrived exactly on time. Cilla showed him through to the dining room. The smile was firmly back on her face after the talk she’d had with Marnie hours before.
‘Take a seat, Derek,’ Marnie said.
He sat awkwardly as if he had no right to be there. He was visibly tense, but not half as much as she was. It’ll be okay, said a voice inside her. As if he’d take up the offer. He’d refuse and it would all go quietly away because he wouldn’t dare let anyone know about it. She didn’t know how to begin the conversation, so dived straight in and hoped for the best.
‘Er, Derek. The new owner has asked me to ask you –’ Oh God ‘– if you would like to move into the old gravediggers cottage. The rent would constitute part of your wage as churchwarden.’ There, it was done.
Derek rolled the suggestion around in his mind, as if it were a toffee in his mouth and he were trying to determine the flavour. ‘The old gravedigger’s house. No one’s lived in there since Diggory Hoyle died.’ Could there have been a more convenient name for a gravedigger than Diggory Hoyle, Marnie thought. Doug Hoyle, maybe?
‘That’s right.’
She hadn’t seen inside it herself but apparently it was quite habitable. For a single occupant.
Derek’s eyeballs looked as if they were vibrating inside their sockets. It was a pretty clear indicator of the activity going on behind them. Then he said no more than the one word:
‘Oh.’ But that word was loaded with obvious meaning. It was the sort of ‘oh’ that a child might say when told that Santa had just landed on his roof.
‘Yep,’ said Marnie, waiting for more, which eventually came.
‘Only one person can live in that house.’
‘Yes.’
‘I’d move out of the cottage I share with Una and go into there, that’s what the owner wants me to do?’
‘Well, he – or she – wants to know if that’s what you would like to do.’
This was getting more awful by the second, thought Marnie with an inward groan. She was handing him an axe to smash up his marriage, that really couldn’t be right.
‘Me and Una would split up if I did that.’