The meeting concludes fairly swiftly after that. Ed promises that he’ll brief Alison fully, and that they’ll be in touch in due course. It’s just after midday when I leave their offices and I’ve got time to kill before my next appointment, so I go in search of some lunch. I called Annabel yesterday, and it would be an understatement to say that she was delighted when I asked whether she’d been serious about offering me a job. We’re meeting this afternoon, ostensibly for an interview, but she pretty much bit my hand off during the phone call, so I’m hoping it will be a formality.
* * *
‘How did you get on?’ my mother asks me, when I get back to the house sometime after five.
‘Good. I’ve got a job and I’m getting divorced,’ I tell her.
‘The interview went well, then?’
‘It wasn’t much of an interview. It was pretty much just a massive hug, a brief discussion of salary, and working out when I could start. After that, it was mainly just catching up on gossip.’
‘Excellent, well done. How was the lawyer?’
‘Nice, but he didn’t think much of my finances. He very politely hinted that I was too small fry for him and palmed me off on a junior. I’m okay with it, though. As long as the job gets done, that’s all I care about.’
‘Mm. They’re probably used to dealing with Russian oligarchs and the like. I think your father was primarily worried about your inheritance. I can’t tell you what he said exactly, because a lot of the words are unrepeatable, but the gist is that he didn’t want James to get his hands on a single penny of it. Anyway, it sounds like it’s all in hand. When do you start your job?’
‘In a couple of weeks, at the beginning of next month. Annabel says she’s already got stuff lined up for me, so it sounds like I’m going to be busy from the start. She told me she’s going to be relying on “my experience of the country” to try to expand our reach beyond London. I’m not sure what she thinks happens out here, but she made it sound like an alien planet. It was quite funny, actually. I’ve just got to work out what I’m going to do about the commute until I find somewhere permanent to live. I’d forgotten how long the train from Uckfield to London Bridge takes.’
‘It’s a shame we don’t still have the London house. It would have been a perfect base for you.’
Up until a couple of years ago, my parents had a house in Eaton Square that my father used to use when he stayed over, or if he was entertaining business contacts. He likes to keep what he refers to as ‘the country house’ for family and friends. However, when he was offered a membership of one of London’s most prestigious clubs, he decided that was a much better place to stay and promptly offloaded the London house.
‘It’s okay,’ I say to her. ‘I think the commute will keep me focused on finding somewhere to live. You don’t want me under your feet for ever, do you!’
‘Don’t feel you have to rush at everything, will you? I know you like being independent, but you’re going through a lot and you don’t have to deal with it all at once. Would you like to hear something interesting?’
‘Go on.’
‘Margot tells me that Gerald is quite smitten with that Land Rover of yours, despite having to clean up after it when you arrived. She caught him admiring it yesterday, and he gave her quite the lecture on its qualities. She said she’s rarely seen him so animated.’
I smile. ‘It does have a lot of qualities, but I’m not sure any of them are particularly desirable.’
‘According to Margot, he’s been looking for one just like it for a while. So, if you’re thinking of selling it, you might want to have a chat with him.’
This puts me in a dilemma. I am oddly fond of the Land Rover after our marathon journey together, but I need a reliable way of getting to the station and I will be driving a lot if I’m going to be organising events away from the convenience of London public transport. I also need to present a professional image, which the Land Rover definitely won’t do with its plumes of exhaust smoke, dented panels, and death rattle. The problem is that I can’t sell it without all the documentation, which is back at the farm. If I want it, I’ll have to contact James, and that’s not a conversation I’m looking forward to.
16
‘I’m sorry to bother you,’ Margot says to me, as Mum and I are chatting before dinner a week or so later, ‘but your husband is at the gate, asking to be let in. Gerald wants to know what he should do.’
‘What do you mean, “at the gate”?’ I ask, stupidly. Although there is no doubting what Margot has just said, I can’t get my head around James being here, or why on earth he would have come.
‘He rang the bell just now,’ Margot explains. ‘According to Gerald, he said he needed to talk to you. We don’t have him in the visitors’ book and, given your situation, neither of us were sure what to do. Would you like Gerald to let him in?’
I consider the question. On the one hand, I really don’t want to see James again, but if he’s driven all the way from Devon, I suppose I ought to at least do him the courtesy of hearing what he has to say. So far, our only exchange has been about the Land Rover, which evidently enraged him. When I sent the message asking for the documents so I could sell it, he replied with lots of capitals explaining that it belonged to the farm, wasn’t mine to sell, and I was lucky he hadn’t reported it stolen. I replied to his torrent of invective with the word ‘Necklace’ and the documents arrived a few days later.
The registration certificate was interesting; I’d always assumed that James had bought the Land Rover with the proceeds from selling my MX-5, but he can’t have done, because the farm has owned it since it was bought new in 1992. I scanned the document and emailed it to Alison to investigate. If he didn’t buy it for me, then where did the money from the sale of my sports car go? Ed was right; Alison is very tenacious, so I’m sure she’ll get to the bottom of it. Anyway, I’ve sold the Land Rover to Gerald, who appears every bit as delighted with it as Mum said he would be, and put some of the money towards a second-hand VW Golf, which is much more suitable.
‘I suppose I could ask Donald whether he could stretch dinner to accommodate an extra person,’ Mum offers unenthusiastically.
‘No,’ I tell her firmly. ‘I don’t want him staying for dinner. I don’t really want to see him at all and, if we let him in, we’ll feel obliged to put him up for the night. I’d better go and see what he wants. Margot, can you apologise to Donald on my behalf and ask him very kindly if there’s anything he can do to put dinner back by half an hour or so?’
‘Certainly, and what would you like me to tell Gerald?’
‘Ask him not to let James in, but instead tell him that I’ll meet him at the gate shortly. Also let him know that I’ll be taking the quad bike if that’s okay.’
‘Very well. Excuse me.’