A Well Kept Secret Read Free Page A

had never bothered about him, yet obviously the reverse could not be true; why else would he make him the main beneficiary of his will? To just get rid of this unexpected inheritance as being something of no consequence simply didn’t seem right. He paused reflectively, trying to remember what little he could of that single visit he had made as a child with his mother. He had a vague recollection of a grey, forbidding looking house that was set well back from the road, a rather austere but kindly man with a moustache who was his uncle, and a younger woman, his aunt. (What was her name now, May, that was it.) He had a vague memory of an extensive garden with a large pond and lots of trees that he had played in, beyond that he could think of nothing. He was on the point of dropping the letter on his desk with the half formed intention of doing something about it on the morrow, when an odd idea flitted through his mind.

    James had insisted that he should earnestly consider getting away for a while; and as he knew only too well, all the holiday resorts he simply couldn’t be bothered with; maybe this was the answer? If indeed the house was now his, perhaps he should at least go and look at it? It wouldn’t be a ‘holiday’ as such, yet it would be a break from his routine, a break from the constant echoes of his dead wife, a chance maybe to find something to divert his mind for a while. Maybe trying to revive a few childhood memories might be just the distraction he needed? No doubt it would all be a complete waste of time, but at least if he did it, he could dispose of the house and its contents with a clear conscience, thereby keeping both James and Charles happy.

    He reached for the phone and dialled Charles’ private number.

    “Charles,” he said as the phone was eventually picked up at the other end and a man’s voice came on the line, “Martin.”

    “Hello Martin, nice to hear from you,” came the solicitor’s surprisingly deep voice

    “Sorry to disturb you at home,” Martin said. “I’m just trying to catch up on a few things that have been a bit neglected of late.”

    “Not at all, always pleased to talk to you, you know that.”

    “Charles, about this legacy, you know; the house over at Wellworthy?”

    “Ah yes, the estate of the late Dr Marston; you asked me to handle all the usual details. I think I sent you a resume of things in the post?”

    “Yes, I have the papers in front of me as it happens; what’s the situation with the house? I mean, is it empty, furnished, let out, derelict or what?”

    “To the best of my knowledge it is just as your late uncle left it; fully furnished, although I have been told that your late uncle’s solicitors have removed all personal papers, etc. I have been awaiting your instructions, and in the circumstances I didn’t like to press matters of course.”

    “Quite, I must apologise for dragging my heels on this a bit. I suppose I should have gone to the funeral, whenever that was. The truth is, I scarcely knew the man, and in the circumstances?”

    “As you say; in the circumstances. Martin, you have had more than enough to cope with, and I am quite sure that nobody expected you to attend.   Subsequent to my letter, I heard from your late uncle’s solicitor that Dr Marston was buried in the local churchyard in Wellworthy. Just for the record, he was actually buried before news of his bequest reached me, so unless somebody had communicated details of the funeral arrangements directly to you, there was no way that you could have attended anyway. I understand he had a reserved plot beside that of his late wife, your aunt May.”

    “That shows how little I know of my relatives,” Martin admitted. “I never even knew that he was a widower. Any idea of who attended?”

    “As far as I know; only his solicitor, his housekeeper, and quite a number of local people who apparently held him in high esteem.”

    “No family members from either