The Haunt

Chapter 5

FIVE

“Odd though it might sound, especially in this day and age, but when it finally sunk in the following morning that Jenifer and I were going to be away from each other for an entire week, we both found ourselves a little tearful. The fact was that since we had been married we had not spent so much as a single night apart. Even when she was still living with her parents a full week had not gone by without us seeing each other at least two or three times. So, as it turned out, I found myself heading down the motorway with a heavy heart, when I should have been more excited at the prospect of finally viewing my inheritance.

“I had arranged an appointment for that afternoon with my benefactor’s solicitor, explaining that I was driving down and so hoped to be with him by early afternoon. As I was negotiating unchartered waters I did not want to make a firm time for our appointment, and the solicitor, a Mr Ralph Peterson, seemed perfectly satisfied with my estimated scope of arrival.

“In those days the concept of satellite navigation had not been thought of, at least not for the motorist anyway, so I had to navigate my way with the assistance of road signs and an atlas of Great Britain which I had purchased specifically for the occasion. Jenifer and I had spent the best part of an entire evening trying to plot my route, and although once we had completed the task the journey seemed fairly straightforward, on the day I still managed to lose my way. At one point I pulled over at a petrol station to check my bearings, only to discover that I had been driving in the wrong direction for over twenty miles.

“To make things worse several of the roads we had plotted were ‘A’ and ‘B’ roads, most of which had virtually no signposts whatsoever, and just to add salt to the wound, they were plagued with tractors and various other forms of farm vehicles, all of which seemed incapable of travelling at anything above ten miles per hour, and due to the narrowness of the side-roads it was virtually impossible to overtake them. The other problem, which I must admit that I had not considered prior to leaving, was that I was driving my father’s old Granada which had definitely seen better days. The car was one of my parents’ possessions which I had been reluctant to part with, due mainly to all the happy memories I had of the four of us travelling in it on days out. My father was a dab hand at motor mechanics and he was proud of the fact that he completed most of the maintenance and repairs to his car himself. I, on the other hand, knew next to nothing about cars other than where to put the petrol, and I kicked myself for my lack of enthusiasm whenever my father offered to show some of his maintenance tricks of the trade.

“Without my father’s attendance to the vehicle, I had sadly allowed it to run down to the extent that it was now long overdue a good service. I was reminded of this lack in my routine whenever I drove over a pot hole, or took a corner too swiftly on my way to the solicitors, and some of the noises the car was making made me wonder if I was actually going to be able to complete the journey in one piece.

“Fortunately, I eventually arrived in the small town of Briers Market still intact, although far later than I had initially anticipated. Mr Peterson had given me directions to his office, which were fortunately straightforward and easy to follow. I managed to find a parking space across the street from his office, and checked my watch as I crossed the road. It was now almost five o’clock and the shops and offices along the high street all had their lights on as the daylight was fading.

“Once inside I was confronted by a stern-looking middle-aged lady who, once I introduced myself, peered at me over the rim of her spectacles with a distinct look of disdain.”

“Mr Peterson was expecting you some hours ago!”

“She made no attempt to disguise the contempt in her voice, as if I had only come from the other side of town rather than having driven all the way from London. I made my apologies, although I felt that she was being unduly harsh with her criticism. Her expression softened somewhat when I confessed that my journey had taken far longer than I too had anticipated, and she gestured for me to take a seat while she informed Mr Peterson of my arrival.

“The office was rather small and cluttered if I am being honest, with bundles of papers tied together with ribbon, stacked on top of each other all over the place, including some on the floor which had been rammed into corners and alcoves so as not to become trip hazards. Having just met Mr Peterson’s secretary it surprised me that someone who appeared, on first impression, to be so punctilious, was happy to work in such haphazard surroundings.

“My train of thought was derailed by the re-appearance of the solicitor’s secretary. She did not bother to walk back over to me, but instead elected to stand at the far corner of the office, having just emerged from what I took to be Peterson’s inner sanctum, and bellow across the room in her haughtiest voice that Mr Peterson was ready to see me. She made me feel like an errant schoolboy who had been summoned to the headmaster’s office.

“As I approached Peterson’s door his secretary stayed in situ, which, by the time I reached the door, made me realise that I did not have enough room to squeeze by her in order to enter the room. I stopped once I was immediately outside the entrance and smiled at her, weakly, hoping that she would take the hint and move for me. But alas my subtle gesture was to no avail. Instead she made a point of re-announcing me to her boss before finally moving to one side to allow me to pass.

“Peterson was a good deal younger in person than he had sounded on the telephone. He jumped up from his desk as I entered his office and offered me his hand. While we were shaking he signalled for me to take the seat opposite him.”

“Could I tempt you to have a tea or coffee?’

“As he made the kind offer, he glanced over to his secretary who was still loitering in the doorway. But, when I looked over at her, I could tell immediately from her demeanour that she was in no mood to be acting the part of hostess so I politely declined his offer, although in truth I was gasping as I had not had anything since breakfast. Once his secretary had closed the door behind her I apologised to Peterson for my tardy arrival, and explained about my lack of a decent sense of direction, as well as the various hindrances I had encountered on some of the smaller roads. Peterson laughed, good-heartedly.”

“No problem, Mr Ward, I began to think that you had decided to stop off somewhere en route and complete your journey down tomorrow.”

“I agreed that in hindsight that this might have been the wiser option, but my overwhelming compulsion was to arrive sooner rather than later as I was very keen to see my inheritance. As it was by the time I arrived the light was already starting to fade, so I knew by that point that I would not be able to see it in daylight until the following morning. But I was still excited by the prospect of seeing it in the flesh, so to speak, that evening.

“Over the next hour, Peterson painstakingly went through all the formalities concerning my inheritance. At my request he kept the language in layman’s terms so that I did not have to keep stopping him repeatedly mid-point to ask him to explain something. The solicitor had a large manila file containing, what appeared to me to be, several hundred documents and individual sheets of paper, some of which had started to yellow with time.

“It became apparent to me during the course of our conversation that my benefactor’s side of the family had relied upon Peterson’s family practice for generations, and some of the documents within the folder were dated from the previous century.”

“I took the liberty of sending away the deeds to your new property for re-registration; although I am quite sure that you will be looking for a buyer for the property, it is always best to keep everything up to date. I’m sure you understand.”

“I explained to Peterson that Jenifer and I would be making the final decision together, regarding what we would eventually do with the property. To this Peterson gave me a very curious look, and proceeded to explain to me that in his opinion the cost of renovating the manor house and the subsequent upkeep would far outweigh the saleable value once the work was completed.”

“Of course, I am speaking as your late relative’s solicitor now, as I realise you have not engaged me in any official capacity. But I feel that it would be remiss of me not to give you the full facts, as our firm has had several dealings with the previous owners concerning the property over the years.”

“I thanked him for his candour, but re-iterated that even if the property were a crumbling ruin that I still would not make any decisions without Jenifer at least having a chance to see it. Peterson seemed to understand this, and continued with our interview. I was signing so many different papers that, after a while, my hand started to throb. Things seemed far easier and more straightforward when Jane and I inherited our parents’ house. But still I persevered, as I reasoned with myself that once our meeting was over, everything would be settled to our mutual satisfaction.

“As time wore on and the seemingly endless drafts and papers continued to be laid before me for ratification, the toll from my journey was starting to show itself, and I even had to stifle the odd yawn, with apologies to my host. Finally, when the mantle clock which sat on one of the bookshelves behind the solicitor struck the hour, Peterson turned in his chair as if to confirm the time, and before he had a chance to turn back to me there was a knock on his office door.

“The solicitor bid his secretary to enter, which she duly did, and slipped me a quick scowl before reminding Peterson of the time.”

“Yes of course, thank you Ruth, you may leave for the day, I’ll lock up.”

“With that she bid him goodnight, and favoured me with an almost non-existent nod of her head. Once she had left us Peterson and I continued with our meeting, until the clock behind him informed us that another hour had passed. At this point the solicitor looked at his wristwatch and thought for a moment before announcing:

“Mr Ward, due to the lateness of the hour may I suggest that you book into your hotel and we can finish this all off in the morning?”

“He realised immediately from the expression on my face that he must have said something untoward. The fact was it had never occurred to me that I might need to arrange accommodation. I fully intended to stay at the manor, regardless of what condition the property was in. I explained my situation to Peterson, and he stroked his chin as he pondered my situation. After a moment or two Peterson placed his elbows on his desk and made a steeple with his fingers, before advising me that, in his opinion, it would be far more practical if I were to see my new property in daylight, rather than stumbling around it at night.

“He confirmed for me that my late relative’s housekeepers, the Jarrows, lived on the estate, but that his understanding was that they both held down separate jobs in which, since my benefactor’s demise, they had increased their hours to include evenings, so neither of them would be home until late. Peterson also made it clear that he too had plans for the evening which he was already running late for, so he would also be unable to show me around.

“I assured him that I did not wish to be a nuisance, but the fact of the matter was that, because I had not anticipated having to book a hotel or guest house, I did not have enough money in my wallet to afford to pay for a night’s lodgings, and due to the lateness of the hour all the banks in town would already be closed.

“Peterson told me not to worry, and that he could sort everything out for me. With that he picked up the receiver of the phone on his desk and dialled a number into it, which he obviously knew by heart. I could hear the faint dialling tone from the other side, and after a few rings the call was answered.”

“Jerry, Ralph Peterson here…look I need a favour, a client has just arrived in town, far later than anticipated, and he needs a room for the night and some supper…I knew you would, the only thing is the banks are all shut, but I’ll vouch for him that he’ll pay you first thing tomorrow, once they open…Wonderful, thanks, Jerry…His name is Jonathan Ward…Thanks again mate, I owe you one.”

“Peterson looked very pleased with himself when he came off the line.”

“There you are Mr Ward, everything has been taken care of. You will be staying at the ‘Wild Boar’, one of our finest hotels, and you can settle your bill in the morning once the banks open.”

“Peterson escorted me out of his office and into the street. Night had crept over since I had first entered his office, and now the sky was completely black. We stood outside his main door as Peterson gave me directions to the hotel. The Boar had a car park, so the solicitor suggested that I drive there rather than leave my car out in the street overnight. I thanked him for all his help and we shook hands before we parted. As I crossed the street to my parked car the wind was starting to whip itself up, and I found myself having to dodge a couple of flying newspapers and a discarded carrier bag.

“The journey to the hotel took less than ten minutes in the car, and on the way I noticed a local branch of my bank which I was extremely relieved to discover. Now at least I knew that I could pay my bill in the morning. I parked in the car park and collected my suitcase from the boot, before heading into the main reception area. The hotel, according to the poster in the foyer which was taken from an old newspaper headline, was in fact a converted coaching inn, dating back to the seventeenth century, and, judging from the décor, the owners had obviously tried to keep the overall feel of the place exactly how it must have been when originally built.

“I made my way to the main reception area, and was just about to ring the bell when a corpulent man, with a ruddy face, and a big, bushy moustache appeared and introduced himself as my host.”

“Ralph explained your predicament to me on the phone, Mr Ward. No need to worry, we’ll see you right for tonight.”

“I was very grateful to hear his words, for I realised that had something gone astray in the arrangements between the hotel proprietor and Peterson, it would doubtless be too late by now to get back in touch with the solicitor to straighten things out. But as it was I was shown to a very comfortable double room, with a view of the high street from the window.

“Once I had unpacked and laid out some clothes for the following day I made my way back down to the main bar for my supper, stopping off at the pay phone in the lobby to call Jenifer. The phone rang almost a dozen times and I was about to replace the receiver and try again later, when it was suddenly snatched up and I heard my wife’s sweet voice on the other end.

“I filled Jenifer in on my horrendous journey down, and brought her right up to date regarding my meeting with Peterson and my subsequent change of plans for the night. Jenifer sounded more disappointed than I was by the fact that I hadn’t so much as set eyes on our new property, as of yet. I explained that due to the length of my meeting with the solicitor and the lateness of the hour, that at best I would only have been able to see the manor in shadow. But Jenifer informed me that had she have been with me she would have insisted on seeing the property that night, regardless of the hour, and I believed her. We talked until my change had run out, and I promised her that I would call again the following evening.

“I sat down to a very welcome sumptuous dinner of thick soup, pork chops with real mashed potato, peas and onion gravy, followed by a sticky toffee pudding with custard made just the way I liked it. I washed this all down with two pints of local ale, which had a much stronger kick than what I was used to in London. After my long drive and the fact that I had not stopped anywhere for lunch, this meal tasted better than anything else I had ever eaten.

“Once I had finished my dinner, I took myself up to bed and it was only a matter of minutes before I had drifted off in the arms of Morpheus. I slept right through the night and was woken the following morning by my landlord’s wife knocking on my door, informing me that it was eight o’clock. I quickly showered and changed before making my way back down to the reception.

“As I was not able to pay my bill right away, I was not sure whether or not the landlord would want to keep hold of my belongings until I returned with some money. But I need not have worried, as he was as charming that morning as he had been the previous evening. He assured me that there was no rush to pay my bill, and insisted that I sit down to a full breakfast before I left for Peterson’s office.

“After breakfast I packed my bags and drove out of the carpark, heading back into town towards the solicitor’s office. When I arrived, I was met once more by Peterson’s stern-faced receptionist, who informed me that her boss was with a client in town, and would not return to the office for another hour. I thanked her, politely, and used the time to visit the bank, before driving back to the hotel to pay my debts.

I remember thinking at the time as I drove back and forth across the town, just how beautiful the day was. It was one of those crisp, sunny, autumnal mornings, where the strength and the brightness of the sun belies the cold wind which cuts through to your bone if you fail to protect yourself with enough layers.”

Jonathan leaned forward on his elbows and placed his face in his hands, rubbing his skin with his rough palms, vigorously, as if trying to clear away something which was stuck to his face.

Before anyone from the group around the table had a chance to ask him if everything was alright, he lifted his head once more.

“If only I had known then what I know now, I would have turned my car around and headed straight back to London and my lovely wife!”