A Place of Hope (17 page)

‘Not really. A nearly new one is best, I reckon. It won’t lose as much in depreciation.’ No matter how much money she had, she didn’t intend to spend recklessly. It simply wasn’t in her nature.

She got out and studied the place. It had ‘Quality New and Used Cars’ in big red letters along the front above the showroom. The outside looked well tended, as if business was good, with rows of well-polished cars gleaming in the weak sunlight. There was a row of what looked like new luxury vehicles inside the showroom, cars like Oliver’s.

A young man came out of the office and changed direction to join them.

‘Something wrong with the car, Oliver?’

‘No. It’s running beautifully. Good to see you again, Mark. These are two friends of mine, Emily and Chad. Emily needs a car.’

‘Pleased to meet you.’

Mark waited for her to speak, which was a good sign. She hated pushy sales people. ‘My old car was involved in an accident and is a write-off, so I have no trade-in. I’m looking for something no more than two years old, automatic, air conditioning, not too low slung and not too small. Apart from that, I’m open to suggestions.’

‘You seem to know your own mind, at least. Some people turn up with no idea what sort of car they want, apart from the colour and the sound system. So . . . let me see.’ He surveyed the rows of vehicles. ‘There are probably three which would suit you, and of course I’ll offer a good price to any friend of Oliver’s. Come and have a look at them.’

An hour later, after two test drives and some consultation with Chad, who seemed to know about cars, Emily bought a neat hatchback with an excellent safety rating. Mark offered to bring the car to the pub the following day, since she didn’t have transport.

As she settled back in her seat, she smiled in satisfaction. ‘That’s good. I’ve hated not being mobile. I really value my independence.’

‘Why does that not surprise me?’ Chad teased.

Oliver started up the engine. ‘You must both be tired now.’

‘I’m not too bad today,’ Chad said. ‘Nothing a short rest won’t put right, anyway.’

‘I’m the same,’ Emily agreed. ‘Most of all, I’m hungry. I want a big plate of fresh salad and crunchy vegetables, with some good quality cheese, both of which were in short supply in that hospital.’

When they got back to the pub, she exclaimed, ‘Goodness! It feels like coming home!’

‘It feels like that to me, too.’

Chad sounded even more surprised by this than she was.

The front door of the pub was locked and there was no sign of life, even though the window of the sitting room looked out on to the front. Unfortunately, because of the sloping land, it was too high to look inside, but Emily would have at least expected Rachel to peer out and check who had turned up. She must have heard the car, surely?

When they got to the door, Oliver took the big, old-fashioned key out of his briefcase and inserted it in the lock. ‘I’d expected Rachel to open the door for us.’

‘She’s probably exploring the house.’

But when they went inside, they heard voices coming from the flat. A man was arguing with Rachel, sounding very stressed.

‘Let me check the situation first.’ Chad pushed past Emily and hurried forward, stopping in the doorway for a moment to see what was going on.

Rachel was trying to calm an agitated young guy, who looked as if he’d been living rough.

‘I know him. Let me through,’ Oliver said in a low voice, then shouted, ‘Toby! It’s all right. No one is going to hurt you.’ He moved past them into the sitting room.

The young man gulped but stopped struggling to get away from Rachel.

‘Where have you been, Toby? Your house supervisor will be looking for you.’

He immediately tried to push past them and Rachel grabbed his jacket.

‘Not going back. Not going back! Miss Penelope hide me.’

‘I think someone must have been ill-treating him,’ Rachel said. ‘He was very hungry and he’s got bruises on his lower arms.’ She turned back to Toby. ‘It’s all right, really it is. This is my friend Emily. It’s her house now.’

He calmed down a little, staring at Emily.

‘She’ll let you stay here.’

Oliver opened his mouth as if to protest, but shut it in response to a quick warning glance from Rachel.

Emily moved forward, smiling. ‘It’s nice to meet you, Toby. Shall we all sit down? I’m really thirsty. I’ve got some fizzy water in my shopping. Do you like fizzy water?’

He blinked and looked at her warily, then nodded.

‘Oh, good.’ She bent to fumble in the bag she’d put down and handed him a bottle. ‘Could you open this one for me, please? The tops are always very tight.’

For a moment all hung in the balance, then he reached out and took the bottle, opening it carefully, tongue poking out at the side of his mouth as he concentrated. The water fizzed up and a little spilled.

He cringed. ‘Sorry, sorry, sorry!’

Clearly he was expecting someone to hit him. Emily hated to see his fear. ‘That’s all right, Toby. I spill too sometimes. If you get a cloth, you can wipe it up. It’s only water.’

‘Miss Penelope not get mad, not shout at me, not hit me.’ Tears began rolling down his cheeks. ‘I want her back.’

‘She can’t come back, but I’m here. I can help you.’ Something made her add, ‘Just like she did.’

He looked at her, neither trusting nor mistrusting, evaluating . . . waiting.

Beside her Oliver muttered, ‘It’s not as easy as that.’

Emily gave him a very determined look. ‘Chad and I know what it’s like to be helpless and afraid, Oliver. I’m not letting a friend of my cousin be ill-treated by anyone. Whatever it takes.’

He let out his breath in a half-groan. ‘I can see you’re going to be as bad about it as Penelope was.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Collecting waifs and strays. Helping them.’

Emily opened her mouth to protest that she didn’t do that sort of thing, but the words died unspoken, because she knew she was definitely going to help Toby . . . and she was already helping Chad. How strange! Had the coma changed her?

There was a sudden feeling of warmth around her, as if someone was hugging her. The light in the kitchen seemed to grow brighter for a moment or two, then faded.

Her imagination working overtime again. It must be. Lights couldn’t grow brighter and dimmer on such a grey day.

Rachel intervened. ‘I’ll put some lunch together. Will you help me, Toby?’

He nodded vigorously. ‘Help you.’

‘Oliver, you can come and talk to us while we work, if you like. I think those two need a rest.’

The lawyer nodded, looking resigned now.

Emily and Chad both went into the living room.

‘Infuriating, isn’t it, to be so weak?’ he murmured.

‘Every day in every way . . .’ She smiled, cocked her head to one side and looked at him, waiting.

‘. . . I’m getting better and better,’ he finished. ‘And so we are. How many more people are you going to rescue, Emily Mattison?’

She smiled at him. ‘As many as I can. Will you help me?’

‘Of course I will.’ A shadow passed over his face. ‘If I can.’

‘I know.’

He gave her a sudden hug and she clung to him for a moment, then remembered he might still be married and stepped back.

‘I know what you’re thinking,’ he muttered. ‘But I don’t
feel
married. I just . . . don’t.’

After a wonderful meal of really fresh food, they decided to explore the house and its outbuildings properly.

Emily followed a hunch. ‘Toby, will you show us round?’

He looked at her, his face scrunched up in thought, then nodded and led the way out.

In the rear bar, he tugged at her sleeve. ‘You need keys.’

‘Where are they, Toby?’

‘Hidden. So no one can come in.’

‘It’s time to give them to Emily, don’t you think?’ Rachel said gently. ‘This is her house now, so they’re her keys.’

Emily watched him think that through slowly, then nod.

‘I show
you
keys, Emily . . . just you.’

‘Very well.’ She looked at Oliver, knowing he’d stop her if he thought she was at any risk from their young intruder.

He threw her a resigned look and shrugged.

Toby led her through the rear bar, past the entrance to the pub kitchens, then along the corridor. It was lined with several walk-in store cupboards whose shelves were bare. He ignored those and went into a small room near the end.

She followed and let him close the door behind them.

On the shelves that covered the left side of the storeroom were piles of plates and stacks of wire trays filled with glasses. All were thick with dust. The wall to the right was covered in wood panelling, which looked old and in need of a polish. There were two wrought iron candle holders on the wall – eighteenth century, she’d guess. How wonderful that they’d not been removed!

When Toby went across to one of them and twisted it so that it was slightly skewed, she reached out to stop him damaging it, but then realized that the candle holder had moved easily, so it must have been intended to move. He went to twist the other one, tugging it downwards, and a section of the panelling behind it opened with a small click, revealing a shallow cupboard about a metre square and thirty centimetres deep.

He put one finger to his lips. ‘Secret place. Miss Penelope said I tell next lady. You’re next lady.’

When she nodded, he looked at her very solemnly. ‘She left a message. She hid it. I know where.’

‘Can you show me?’

He nodded and felt inside the cupboard, pulling out a dusty envelope.

She opened it carefully and read the beautiful copperplate handwriting.

This house is yours now, Emily. Look after the old inn. It’s been in our family a long time.

It’s always been a place of hope. Look after the people who come here for help. Give them hope.

Be happy here, as I have been.

Toby looked at her anxiously. ‘I remembered. I did it.’

‘Well done.’

He nodded, beaming at her now, then turned back to the cavity, pulling out what looked like a ledger and a battered tin box which rattled. ‘Miss Penelope’s book. For you. And the keys. All in the box. Two keys for each door.’

He thrust both items into her hands, then pushed the secret door shut and twisted the second candlestick, which seemed to hold it in place.

Again that sense of warmth and approval surrounded her like an embrace and Emily stood for a moment, welcoming the feeling. Was The Drover’s Hope
haunted? She had never believed in ghosts . . . until now. Perhaps it was Penelope’s spirit still lingering? Whatever it was, it certainly didn’t feel as if it meant her any harm.

She jumped in shock when someone called from the corridor, ‘Emily? Are you all right in there?’ The door rattled but seemed to be sticking, so she opened it.

‘I’m fine. Why are you worried? Toby and I have only been getting the keys to the back doors.’

‘We called out several times and you didn’t answer,’ Oliver said.

‘Oh. I didn’t hear you. How strange!’

‘And the door seemed to be stuck. Chad said we should wait a little longer, but I was starting to get worried.’

‘Toby and I were getting these out, the keys and Penelope’s diary. We need somewhere to tip the keys out. There are quite a few.’

‘How about we do that on the bar top?’ Chad suggested. ‘And I noticed a box of envelopes on one of the shelves in the flat. Shall I fetch them and something to write with so we don’t mix up the keys again?’

He took longer than they’d expected and Emily was just going to go and look for him when he came back, looking dazed.

‘Are you all right?’

‘Yes. Only . . . I’ve suddenly remembered my first name. It’s not Chad. That’s just a nickname. It’s Edward . . . Edward John . . .’ Another long pause, during which he rubbed his temple as if it ached, then shook his head. ‘That’s all I remembered, though.’

‘It’s another piece of the puzzle, an important one.’ Emily smiled reassuringly at him. ‘Though I prefer Chad to Edward.’

‘So do I. It’s what my friends call me. I wonder if it’s a shortening of my surname? Chadwick? Chadderton? They don’t sound right, though.’

‘Give it time.’

He looked down at the packet of envelopes in his hand. He’d been clutching them so tightly he’d crushed them. ‘Here we are. Envelopes and a pencil.’ He smoothed them out. ‘They’re not too bad. Let’s get started on the keys. Toby, will you tell us which keys are which? Then I’ll write it down on the envelopes. We can leave one copy of each key in the box and put the others on a key ring once we have some labels.’

The lad shuffled his feet and looked at Emily. When she nodded encouragingly, he sorted out two keys which were alike. ‘Big green door to back yard.’

Chad wrote on two envelopes and put the keys in them.

When all six pairs of keys had been identified and labelled, Toby started on the padlock keys. To Emily these looked very similar to one another, but he had no trouble telling them apart. This was his home, she realized, and he should stay here. It was what Penelope would have wanted. She was quite sure of that.

They returned a set of keys to the secret compartment and Emily asked the others to stay with her to explore her new domain.

It was giving her hope, too, being here.

Before they could make a start, however, there was a hammering on the front door.

She saw the panic on Toby’s face. No, not panic, utter terror! She went across to put her arms round him and give him a hug.

‘Not go back! Not go back!’

‘No, you can stay here.’

‘I’d better answer it,’ Oliver said.

Emily was about to let him do that, then decided it was cowardly and thrust the box and book at him instead. ‘No, I’ll do it. It’s my house and I don’t intend to hide behind others.’

She hurried through to the front door, hearing someone start hammering on it again. When she flung it open, she didn’t even have time to speak.

‘It took you long enough to answer the door.’

The woman who stood there was large and angry. Emily was so startled by this rudeness from a complete stranger she couldn’t speak for a moment.