‘I’m good, but I’m not that good.’
She frowned. This was a waste of time.
‘But that doesn’t mean to say I can’t help you.’ He leaned forward in his seat. ‘So, tell me why you are here.’
‘Where to start?’ Abigail said, more to herself.
‘How about at the beginning?’
‘Well, that’s the thing. That’s what I’m here to find out. It’s about my husband, my late husband, Toby.’ Abigail explained to Ray all about Toby’s acquisition of the cottage, which now belonged to her. ‘The Somervilles are contesting it, apparently.’
‘The Somervilles as in Somerville Hall?’
‘Yes. It belonged to Lord Somerville’s sister, Daphne. My solicitor doesn’t think they’ll get anywhere because the cottage was put into a trust for him when he was five years old.’
‘Ah, that’s an interesting turn of events.’
‘There were three trustees. Daphne and two others. They want to remain anonymous.’ Abigail took a breath. ‘I want to find out Toby’s connection to the Somervilles.’
Ray put his mug down on the coffee table and looked at her thoughtfully. ‘So, your late husband had no idea he was the beneficiary of a trust she’d set up years earlier until after she’d died?’
‘That’s correct.’
The sound of a pan of hot water bubbling over interrupted them. ‘Just hold that thought.’
Ray bounced out of his seat and hurried past Abigail, heading for the kitchen area. She turned around in her seat and watched him take the pan off the heat and remove the lid.
Ray checked the other pans on the hob before returning to the lounge. He took a seat and looked at her. ‘Do you mind telling me about your husband?’
Abigail fell silent.
‘I don’t mean about … how he died.’
She imagined Lili had filled him in about that anyway.
‘About his childhood. Who are his parents? Was he adopted? Can you think of anything unusual that might have a bearing—’
He didn’t have to finish that sentence.
‘I think Toby was a foundling.’
‘Ah.’ Ray leaned forward in his seat, rubbing his chin. ‘Now that certainly has a bearing. Do you know the circumstances of how he was found?’
Abigail recounted what Gerald had told her.
‘So, he was left in the storm porch of Daphne’s cottage during the night of the Great Storm in ’87.’
‘Yes.’
‘Did your late husband …’
‘Toby.’
‘Yes, Toby – did he know this?’
‘No, he didn’t.’
‘Are you sure?’