Christmas Past (40 page)

Jacqueline began to cry and Mary tried to comfort her, even through her own pain. Jack, white-faced, asked the necessary questions as though in a daze, and Doug, who had only just come
downstairs, feared for the man who was not yet completely recovered from nervous illness.

‘Sit down, Jack,’ he ordered, and went for the brandy bottle, still on the table from last night’s celebrations. ‘Here, get this down you.’ He gave a glass to Jack
and a smaller one each to Mary and Jacqueline. The policemen refused, wanting to complete the nasty business as quickly as possible.

‘Are you related to the deceased?’

‘No. Oh, no, just friends, very close friends,’ Jack said.

‘Do you happen to know of any relatives we could contact, who might handle the arrangements?’

‘There is a nephew ... my wife will probably know his whereabouts.’

Mary managed to take in what the policeman was saying. ‘There is a nephew but they haven’t been in contact for years.’ Then she remembered. ‘Gladys left some instructions
in an envelope in a cash box.’ Her voice broke.

‘Take it easy, love,’ Jack said.

‘She told me once, showed me where to find it if anything happened. I think there’s a copy of the will in there too. She wanted me to carry out the instructions in the letter.’
Mary sobbed. ‘I made a joke at the time, told her she was good for another forty years.’

‘Ah well, so can we leave the arrangements in your hands? Of course there’ll have to be a post-mortem. We’ll be in touch with you later.’

‘Where are they?’ Jacqueline whispered. ‘The bodies.’

‘At the infirmary. We may require you to identify them later, though the doctors on duty at the time of admission have already done that informally. Seems they were colleagues of the
doctor and almost as upset as you are.’

‘At least he’s been taken to a place he loved. It was his life, or an important part of it until he retired,’ Mary said.

‘If you can spare the time we’d appreciate it if you’d come to the house with us, to get the envelope you mentioned. We need to see that any arrangements are approved by their
solicitor.’

‘Of course. We’ll come now.’

‘There won’t be much we can do today, being a holiday, but we need to make sure the house is made secure again, you understand.’

‘I’ll get our coats.’ Mary followed Jack and the policemen to the car.

‘We’d better go and break the news to Alan,’ Jacqueline said.

‘Yes.’

‘What about Grandma Holmes? It’ll be a shock to her too.’

‘I’d wait until we get back, if I were you. She’ll need someone with her in case of shock at her age. I can hear her still pattering about in the bathroom.’

The couple went out with heavy hearts, Boxing Day celebrations forgotten. Jacqueline tried to revive the picture in her mind of the smiling couple waving from the steps of their beloved Moorland
House. ‘You know something,’ she said, after the news had been broken to a sorrowful Alan and Avril, ‘I’m so pleased they went together. I don’t think either one could
have survived without the other.’

‘You’re right,’ Alan agreed. ‘I’ve never known a couple so in love. They were like’ – he searched for the right description – ‘like a pair
of shoes, one no good without the other.’

‘Oh, I’m going to miss them so much.’ Jacqueline broke into a fresh bout of weeping, and this time it was Alan whose arms enfolded her, but for once he wasn’t strong: he
cried just like his sister, his tears damping her dark curls. And they knew that without Grandad and Grandma Roberts life would never be quite the same again.

Despite the overwhelming heat of the car the hand clasped in Jack’s was cold and lifeless. In other circumstances the low smooth hum of the engine might have lulled them
into drowsiness. Through the mirror other cars could be seen following, like a trail of black shiny snails.

In the village Christmas trees twinkled in the windows of cottages, and a string of lights hung across Mrs Poppleton’s shop.

Gladys would have enjoyed the glitter.

Occasionally an elderly person would stand cap in hand, paying their last respects to a well-loved lady and gentleman. Mary looked at the car in front, and another in front of that, the long
wooden caskets, the rich autumn hues of chrysanthemums, cream, bronze, purple and gold. That’s how she would remember them, knee deep in chrysanthemums, carrying in bunches from the garden,
and other more magnificent blooms, filling the glass lean-to with their overpowering perfume.

She heard Richard in the seat in front comment on the size of the cortege and responded automatically. ‘It’s probably the largest funeral ever to take place at Longfield
Church,’ she said, and all the time she was thinking that if Rowland was there he would be chatting, cheering her up, joking her out of her misery. But he wasn’t there, and neither was
Gladys; they were gone, extinguished like a light, no bother to anyone, just the way they had always wanted to go.

‘Life is for the living,’ Rowland used to say. ‘No use worrying about the dead.’

Mary supposed he was right, but even so there would always be an empty place in her heart for the dearest friends she had ever known.

The church was full to overflowing, people from the surrounding villages and nuns from the convent mingling with doctors, nurses and professors of the highest standing. Father Flynn had made the
long exhausting journey from Newcastle, and Rowland’s choir was already assembled in the choir stalls, numbed by the loss of their beloved conductor.

Richard and Ruth had arrived in the morning, more for the purpose of finding the name of their uncle’s solicitor than to mourn their dead. They were given front seats in the car as chief
mourners. Dressed completely in black and putting on a pious look for the benefit of the undertaker who was unaware that the pair hadn’t found time to visit their aunt and uncle for more
years than anyone could remember, they looked at Mary with disdain.

‘To them I’m just an ex-housemaid,’ Mary whispered.

‘You’re probably richer than they’ll ever be,’ Jack replied. ‘And richer certainly when it comes to peace of mind.’

Mary had left the choice of hymns to the choir, and they had chosen Rowland’s favourite ‘Abide With Me’, and ‘The Lord’s My Shepherd’ for Gladys. There were
few dry eyes in the centuries-old church.

Afterwards, as they stood at the graveside, the words of Tom Downing came back to Mary: ‘Doesn’t the church stand well?’ Thinking of Tom it would have been easy to blame the
Christmas sin for this further tragedy, but remembering Jacqueline’s experience at the Spiritual Church she wisely dismissed the thought from her mind. She looked across the valley to where
the tall rooftops of Moorland House rose proudly among the trees. It was fitting that her friends should be laid to rest within view of the house.

At the request of Richard the reading of the wills took place immediately after the funeral tea, on account of his having business to attend to and being in a hurry to leave.

Rowland’s dear friend Ernest Sessions had been appointed executor and Mary would have given anything to spare the poor old man the pain of having to be here so soon after the burial of his
friend.

The shock of the solicitor’s reading was almost as traumatic as the news of the accident had been. In the first place only a small monetary bequest had been made to Richard and Ruth, on
the grounds that they had been so busy succeeding in then chosen professions over the past ten years that a larger legacy would be unnecessary.

Jack almost smiled as the solicitor read the words. They were so clearly Rowland’s own words, and he could almost imagine the doctor’s hearty guffaw, booming round the room. Mary,
however, felt sorry for the couple, whose crestfallen faces proved they had expected the bulk of the estate.

Gladys’s jewellery and some other mementos had been left to Mary, and Rowland had left any car which he might own, his gold pocket watch and some other pieces to Jack. Fortunately, Jack
valued the personal items far more than the car, which had been written off in the accident.

A bequest had also been made to the infirmary. But the shock came with the further announcement that all stocks, shares and money remaining after the funeral expenses and taxes had been paid was
bequeathed to Alan, who couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. Jacqueline was so pleased for her brother she almost missed the last and most important part of the legacies:
I devise
my freehold property known as Moorland House situated in Longfield in the County of York to Jacqueline Mary Holmes.

Halfway through January Mary announced she had decided to go to Newcastle. Jack, who had been worried about his wife, who looked decidedly run down and pale a reaction from the
shock of the accident pronounced the trip an excellent idea.

‘It’s so long since I saw my mother and father I feel almost as bad as Richard and Ruth,’ Mary said.

‘Oh, come on, it’s not all that long, and they know they’re welcome here any time.’

‘I know, but losing Gladys and Rowland has made me realise how quickly things can happen, I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to my parents when I haven’t seen
them for over a year.’

‘Is it really so long? Well then, we’ll get things arranged as soon as possible. I’ll get the tickets tomorrow.’

‘You mean you’ll come with me?’ Mary’s face brightened.

‘I don’t see why not. It’s quiet at the moment except for Wellingtons and boots – shoe sales won’t really pick up till Easter. I’m sure Sally can manage for a
week or even two – in fact she’ll probably enjoy it. I’ll put a notice up cancelling repairs until we get back. What about you?’

‘I’ve already arranged it with Yvonne. She’s eager enough if I pay her extra, and I’m sure Avril will help out. She and Alan might even move in here until we get back. If
we go now we’ll be back before they move to the new house.’

Avril enjoyed the change, and the company of Yvonne, who kept her up to date with what was happening amongst the young set. Yvonne’s new boyfriend was a rocker; he called
for her in the evenings wearing full leather motorcycle gear and a lot of facial hair. Avril had to admit he was well mannered, though, and it was hard to believe he was part of a group rumoured to
have clashed with a gang of mods a few weeks previously.

Yvonne said it was untrue, and the culprits were from Barnsley way, and that the Millington rockers were more interested in spending Saturdays tinkering with their own bikes than smashing other
people’s scooters. Avril gave her the benefit of the doubt and helped her young friend create a high beehive hairstyle ready for the dance. She felt quite envious when the young couple went
off hand in hand after the shop had closed for the weekend.

She still couldn’t take it in about the legacy. Alan was astounded at the amount of money involved. He needn’t worry about a mortgage at all, and would still be quite wealthy even
after settling the undertaker’s bill. He felt slightly guilty that the money had come to him instead of his parents, and decided to talk to his father about it. Jack explained it had been
done for a reason.

‘It should have been yours and Mother’s by rights,’ Alan insisted.

‘Your mother and I have enough to last us till the end of our days so long as trade keeps as it is now. Enjoy it, son, but spend it wisely,’ Jack advised.

Only Jack had known of Rowland’s intentions. He had discussed his finances at length when Jack was recovering from his illness; in fact he had discussed everything he could think of to
reawaken Jack’s interest in the outside world. One day he had said to Jack, ‘Gladys and I are about to make a new will. We’re debating what to do with all our wealth, which is
quite considerable.’

‘I hope you’re not going to die on us yet,’ Jack had replied.

‘I hope not too, but one never knows. Of course, when one of us dies it will all belong to the other. But after that we’re uncertain of what to do for the best. You and Mary
aren’t the type to sit back in the lap of luxury, and anyway it wouldn’t be good for you in your present state of health.’

‘I’m not going to be ill for ever, but you’re right: I need to be occupied.’

‘So we’re thinking of leaving it to the children.’

‘Richard’s boys?’ Jack asked.

‘Jacqueline and Alan,’ Rowland answered, searching Jack’s face for some reaction.

‘That’d be nice. They’d appreciate a little nest egg-’

‘It wouldn’t be a nest egg, it would be the nest. Moorland House, and all that goes with it.’

Jack hadn’t taken it in at first, unsure what to say. ‘What does Gladys think about it?’

‘Her idea,’ Rowland said. ‘We think the world of Mary, and you of course; not having been blessed with children of our own, we kind of adopted her from the beginning. But with
the children it was different – it was they who adopted us. From the first they accepted us as grandparents and they’ve brought us a great deal of joy.’

‘I know,’ Jack said. ‘And I’m pleased.’

‘It would be terrible to think Moorland House was to be sold to strangers after we’d gone, and I don’t think Jacqueline would do that. She loves the house in the same way
Gladys does, and my parents did before us. It’s like some powerful obsession they have about the place.’

‘She loves you and Gladys in the same way.’

‘So you won’t be offended then if it misses a generation?’

‘Our kids mean everything to us, you know that, and I can’t think of anything that’d make Mary and me happier than knowing they had security. Not that we’d ever see them
short, but our Alan’s so bloody independent.’

‘And you know as well as I do who he takes after.’ Rowland smiled. Jack had nodded and grinned, and the conversation had never been mentioned again.

‘Well,’ Alan was saying, ‘if ever you and Mother need anything you know where to come.’

Jacqueline had said the same, offering them a home at Moorland House should they ever need it.

‘What, and miss all the gossip and scandal of Millington?’ Mary had scowled. ‘No thanks, love. Your dad and me are more than happy where we are.’

Jacqueline walked the rooms of Moorland House in a daze, touching the porcelain figurines Gladys had collected over the years, the school photos of her and Alan, her
parents’ wedding photograph on the piano. Even the piano belonged to her, and she still couldn’t take it in.