A Death in the Family (4 page)

Raymond Poyser, who was standing nearby, moved towards me and said, ‘Is he your cousin then, this Bernard Prior?’

‘Yes, he is,’ I said.

‘And is he the Bernard Prior who was headmaster of a school near Bristol?’

I looked at him in some surprise. ‘Yes, as a matter of fact he was.’

‘The school,’ Raymond persisted, ‘where there was that scandal?’

‘What? What scandal? I haven’t heard anything about that.’

‘Oh, I’m sorry – perhaps I shouldn’t have said anything, since he’s a relation…’

‘No, really, it’s quite all right. What scandal?’

‘He was cleared of all blame,’ Raymond said. ‘The parents were unhappy about the result of the enquiry, but I suppose that was only natural.’

‘What enquiry?’ I asked. ‘What happened?’

‘One of the boys tried to kill himself – it was all right, they found him in time, but, of course, it was all very upsetting.’

‘How dreadful!’

‘They said he’d been bullied – well you hear a lot about bullying now, don’t you, and he was a sensitive boy, an only child and all that.’

‘And the staff didn’t realise what was going on?’

‘Partly that.’ Raymond paused for a moment as if considering the matter. ‘I think what people thought was that the headmaster didn’t take that sort of thing very seriously. From what I heard he was the sort of person who doesn’t have much sympathy for people, and boys who don’t stand up for themselves.’

‘Yes, I can see that,’ I said.

‘Not,’ Raymond said hastily, ‘that he was actually held responsible for what happened, but, you know how it is, people have to blame someone and there was quite a bit about it in the local paper – I don’t think it got into the nationals. I expect that’s why you didn’t hear about it.’

‘Yes, I expect so. I don’t see Bernard very often. In fact this visit is the first time I’ve seen him for, goodness, it must be over fifteen years.’

‘He doesn’t live down here, then?’

‘No, he’s just down here to do some research. He’s renting a holiday cottage at Avill, just outside Dunster.’

‘I hope you didn’t mind my mentioning it,’ Raymond said, ‘but I was struck by the coincidence. The boy concerned is the nephew of my neighbour, Tony Pritchard, so naturally I was interested.’

‘No, I’m glad you told me…’

Anthea reappeared at my shoulder. ‘Sheila, would you mind helping Peggy with the washing up, she’s all alone out there.’ She turned to Raymond. ‘Just the person I wanted to see. When will you be able to move those trestles for the Bring and Buy sale?’

As I stood at the sink, automatically drying the cups and saucers that Peggy Broom was washing, I thought about what Raymond had been telling me. As a bully himself (and it was perfectly obvious to me that he
was
a bully; one glance at poor little
Janet made that clear), it was no wonder that Bernard had no sympathy for the victim. He’d been extremely fortunate that there hadn’t been a fatality and I hoped he’d learnt his lesson. But somehow I doubted it.

Since the autumn winds had died down for the moment I thought I really ought to get out into the garden and sweep up the leaves. It’s hard work and I can only do it in short bursts, but I do quite enjoy it. I have a fair number of trees and the recent rain had brought down a lot of leaves, and as I swept I enjoyed their various shapes and colours: small yellow leaves of the silver birch that fall in showers like handfuls of golden coins; pale lemon heart-shaped leaves of the balsam; red ones from the spindle, whose cyclamen berries the birds always take before I can enjoy them; so many leaves and all so different. It was a chilly day but the exercise kept me warm, as, indeed, did the glow of virtue at the performance of a necessary task, and soon I had a satisfactorily big pile of leaves waiting to go onto the compost heap.

My sylvan mood was broken by sharp barking from Tris and I turned to find Bernard and Janet approaching me from the side gate.

‘Ah, there you are,’ Bernard said. ‘There was no
reply but we assumed you were in since your car was there.’

‘The side gate was open,’ Janet said apologetically. ‘Oh you have a little dog as well as your Siamese!’ She stooped to stroke Tris, but straightened up at a severe glance from Bernard.

‘Oh, right,’ I said, laying aside my rake and broom, ‘you’d better come in.’

They followed me into the house and I sent them into the sitting room while I took off my coat and boots and washed the dirt from my hands.

Bernard was back in his usual place at the table sorting out his papers, some of which he was handing to Janet who arranged them in order.

‘Now then,’ he said, ‘I expect you would like to hear what I have been able to find out at the County Record Office. I was able to view the relevant sources and, although there were certain lacunae, I managed to piece together a fairly accurate overall picture.’

‘Oh, good,’ I said, feeling that some response was called for. Evidently it wasn’t sufficient since Bernard looked at me sternly and continued.

‘They have a great deal of useful information on microfiche as well as original sources which, having, as I think I explained to you before, made a specific appointment to do so, I was able to examine.’

‘Excellent,’ I said. This interjection was acknowledged by a slight nod.

‘Now I have drawn up a new chart, which you will like to see.’ He unrolled a vast sheet of paper. I got up reluctantly and went over to look at it. It certainly looked very impressive and, given time and left to myself, I might have been able to make some sort of sense of it and even gain pleasure and information from it. Unfortunately, with Bernard instructing me in its intricacies in his most schoolmasterly manner I soon became hopelessly lost. I was suddenly reminded of various occasions at school when a patient schoolmistress tried to explain to me the theory and practice of algebra. At such moments a kind of shutter descends in my brain and although I may give the impression of taking in what is being said to me and even make what may sound like appropriate answers, they might just as well be addressing me in Swahili.

‘So you see,’ Bernard was saying, ‘I have been able to fill in a number of gaps – dates and even names – which were lacking before.’

‘That’s absolutely brilliant,’ I said enthusiastically. ‘What a terrific achievement.’

Bernard looked gratified at my praise, though I sensed he may have felt my language wasn’t sedate enough for such a scholarly undertaking.

‘Really
splendid,
’ I added, that being a word that always went down well with academic colleagues.

‘I have had photocopies made of the family tree and all the relevant background information I have been able to obtain,’ Bernard said, handing me a
rolled up document and a sheaf of papers. ‘One set for you and one each for Richard, Harry and Sybil. I intend visiting them within the next few days so that I can inform them about my findings. I have already seen Richard and Harry, I haven’t yet completed my research on Sybil’s branch of the family.’

‘I believe she’s Sister Veronica now,’ I said.

‘So I gather.’ There was an element of scorn in his voice.

‘Have you been to St Mary’s? It’s a sort of nursing home in the convent. The nuns look after elderly people there. I’ve never actually seen it – it’s tucked away in a valley the other side of Lynton.’

Bernard made no comment, so I assumed he found the whole subject of Sybil’s way of life distasteful. He continued, ‘I will send copies of my findings to Hilda and Marjorie, and Cousin Frederick I will see when I return to Bristol.’

‘How is he?’ I asked. ‘It’s ages since I heard from him. I had a Christmas card from him last year, but no sort of news.’

‘He is quite well in himself,’ Bernard said, ‘but I fear he has had a great deal of trouble with that son of his. Of course Charles was spoilt by both of them when he was young and, after the divorce, when he went to live with Jessica, he led a very rackety sort of life – I cannot understand why she was given custody. Not that Frederick was much better, marrying again, someone so much younger than
himself. No,’ he said shaking his head, ‘I am afraid that is
not
a branch of our family that we can be proud of.’

I wondered momentarily whether he felt proud of Michael and me.

‘Oh well,’ I said vaguely, ‘as long as he’s still in the land of the living.’

Bernard looked as if he was going to say something but then decided my comment wasn’t worth a reply.

‘Well, thank you very much for the family tree and all the other stuff,’ I said. ‘I’ll look forward to studying it when I have time to look at it properly.’

Prompted by the thought that this might be the last time that I saw them I said, ‘Would you like a cup of tea or anything?’

‘No, thank you, Sheila, we must be on our way. I have to make a visit to the church at Combe Florey, where I think there may be a gravestone that might have some relevance.’

‘Combe Florey,’ I exclaimed. ‘That’s where the Reverend Sidney Smith was! Have you ever read his letters? The very best of nineteenth-century wit and wisdom, don’t you think? I adore him – how lovely to think that our family might have had some connection with his church.’

Bernard seemed unimpressed with this literary reference, merely saying that the connection, if any, would be very slight.

‘When do you go back to Bristol?’ I asked.

‘In about ten days’ time. I have a flexible arrangement with the owner of the cottage we are renting since I wasn’t sure how long my research would take, and there are several things of some interest that I need to investigate further. That reminds me. I would like to keep the photographs you kindly lent me for a little longer, if that is convenient. I will, of course, return them as soon as I have finished with them.

‘No, that’s fine. Keep them as long as you like, they only sit there in the spare room doing nothing.’

Bernard gathered up his papers and Janet shut her notebook, preparing to go.

‘Oh, by the way,’ I said, ‘thank you so much for giving that talk at Brunswick Lodge. It was very much appreciated.’

Bernard gave a slight smile. ‘I think they found something of interest in what I was saying. The study of genealogy is growing and people are increasingly aware of its importance in their lives. It is, as I am sure you would agree, fundamental to our knowledge of ourselves to be aware of the roots from which we have sprung and it can add to our understanding not only of ourselves, but of those around us.’

‘Oh, absolutely,’ I said, knowing just how Queen Victoria felt when she said that Gladstone addressed her as if she was a public meeting. ‘And I’m sure Anthea was very grateful to you for stepping into the breach.’

‘Your friend, Mrs Russell,’ Bernard said repressively, ‘does seem to possess a very
forceful
personality. I suppose that it is necessary to adopt that somewhat abrasive manner to get things done in certain circumstances.’

I smiled weakly. ‘She’s very efficient – I don’t know what Brunswick Lodge would do without her.’

‘Well, goodbye Sheila. I will be in touch should I manage to glean any more information.’

With this ominous promise they departed. I put the family tree and the other papers away in my desk and went outside again to finish my task, feeling that a little fresh air would help to blow away the irritated mood Bernard always left me in. Alas, while I’d been indoors the wind had got up again and my carefully garnered leaves had been blown all over the garden.

‘Actually,’ I said to Michael and Thea the next day, ‘I’m sure it’s all very interesting and, one day, when I have the time, I’m going to sit down and have a good look at all the stuff he left. It’s just the way he goes on!’

‘I hope’, Michael said anxiously, ‘you managed to head him off from me.’

‘Don’t worry,’ I said, ‘I know my maternal duty. He did ask about you but I made it quite clear that you had no information about the family, didn’t want to know anything and were probably about to
leave the country at any minute. No, actually, it’s my generation he wants to cross-question. We still have the old photos, letters and other stuff. He’s right, I suppose – your generation will probably throw the whole lot out.’

‘Oh, come on, Ma, that’s not fair. I’m really quite interested. I used to love listening to Gran’s stories about when she was young and I’d hate Alice to grow up not knowing anything about her family.’

‘You’re lucky really,’ Thea said. ‘I often wish I knew more about my family. One day perhaps, when I have the time I’ll try to go into it. I believe it’s much easier now that things are online.’

‘That’s it,’ I said. ‘Time. Where does it go? I always thought that when I was older, when I was retired, I’d do all sorts of things. Read all the novels of Disraeli, things like that.’

‘That’s the problem, though,’ Thea said with a smile, ‘women never do retire, do they? A woman’s work is never done and all that.’

‘Oh come on,’ Michael said, ‘I do my bit around the house!’

‘I know you do, you’re very good,’ Thea said, ‘and I’m so lucky to be able to be at home all day, but still there always seems to be
something
I never get round to.’

‘“All work expands to fill the time available”,’ I quoted. ‘Which reminds me that I’d better get going if I’m going to get my shopping done before lunch.’
I picked up my bag and prepared to go. ‘It’s stupid to go shopping on a Saturday, it’s always so crowded, but somehow I never got around to it in the week. Time again!’

I was just considering the ripeness or otherwise of a couple of avocados (so difficult to light on the exact day when they are ripe but not going over) when someone behind me said, ‘Sheila! Long time no see!’ I turned round to see Pam, Harry Prior’s wife. ‘So glad I bumped into you,’ she continued, ‘we were just talking about you last night.’

‘Really?’

‘We wondered whether this chap Bernard – some sort of cousin, isn’t he? – had been in touch with you?’

‘Indeed he has,’ I said. ‘You too?’

Pam nodded. ‘You said that with feeling. Do I gather you’re as fed up with him as we were?’

‘Fed up is putting it mildly. The man’s an incubus!’

Pam laughed. ‘I’m not quite sure what an incubus is, but I’m sure he’s that all right. No, honestly, he turned up at the most inconvenient time and stayed for ages. And then, just when we thought we’d got rid of him, he came
back
a couple of days later.’

‘He does that,’ I agreed, ‘several times. Was his wife Janet with him?’

‘No, just him, and that was quite enough. I mean, as if we’re
interested
. Poor Harry is working
from morning till night – out in the fields and with the animals. Josh is at home now. He’s left agricultural college and is working on the farm, but still there’s always masses to do with just the two of them – we can’t possibly afford any full-time help, well, you know what it’s like. So the last thing Harry needed was this Bernard person wittering away about family trees and census reports and stuff like that!’

‘And,’ I said, ‘he’s completely impervious to any sort of hint – getting rid of him is pretty well impossible.’

‘Exactly,’ Pam said. ‘I had to come right out and more or less ask him to go. I do bed and breakfast now – it’s something I can do to help out the old finances – and the lot I had in wanted an evening meal, so I simply
had
to get on.’

‘You do have to be really rude,’ I said. ‘I couldn’t
quite
manage that but Cousin Hilda was – you remember her, up in London. Practically told him never to darken her doors again! That saw him off.’

Pam laughed. ‘I should jolly well think it would. I only ever met her once and I was absolutely terrified. But good for her!’

‘I’m sure’, I said, ‘that there’s some quite interesting stuff in all his research, but it’s something I’d like to look at leisurely, in my own time, not with Bernard hovering over me.’

‘That’s more or less what Harry said. This
Bernard brought a lot of papers for us to see the second time he came, but Harry just shoved them in a drawer in the sideboard.’

‘He’s still around,’ I said. ‘I’m afraid I’ll have another visit from him because he’s got some old photos of mine that he’s got to return.’

‘If he comes back to us,’ Pam said, ‘Harry will go and hide with the cows and I’ll pretend to be out.’

I laughed. ‘He’ll just come back again, but it’s worth a try.’ I looked at her loaded trolley. ‘You’ve been doing a big shop. Have you still got some B&B visitors? It must be practically the end of the season for you.’

She nodded. ‘Yes, it’s almost finished now – just one lot at the moment, then we get a bit of a surge at half-term, then close down till spring, thank goodness.’

‘It must be really hard work,’ I said. ‘I don’t know how you do it.’

‘Oh, well, we soldier on. It
is
pretty tiring, for all of us really, but Harry couldn’t bear to be anywhere else or do anything else. He took over from his father and he hopes Josh will take over from him.’

‘And do you think he will?’

‘Well, Josh has always loved helping around the farm, ever since he was tiny. I don’t think it’s ever occurred to him to do anything else, though goodness knows how we can keep going the way things are nowadays.’