Chapter 10

That year was when his aunt took ill. Properly ill, not the illness of a vague chill. Simon’s family made the trek to visit, as did other members of the family. “Vultures, all of them.” Josephine said.

“They’ll be circling for a long time. You’ll be back on your feet soon.” Susan said, trying to maintain her cheerful demeanour.

“Oh child, do you think I don’t know when the race is run? No, I doubt I’ll be out of this bed again.”

But she was wrong. Whilst the others clucked and fussed and stoked the fire and added another blanket. Simon arrived and conferred with Susan. Helen, now a handsome young lass with a body that attracted admiring looks, arrived to visit and was nearly ushered out by family members as ‘not wanting to tire the dear old lady’; but Susan heard her and asked Josephine and she was delighted. “Yes, it is a little crowded. Why don’t you old people go down stairs for tea and leave me with these young people?”

Alone with the three, Josephine said “When you swam in the private pool, how did it happen that your costumes stayed dry? You forgot on that last visit. What a silly mistake. So, did you go for a walk together for some private time? No? So you swam in the nude? My my, how remiss of you Susan to allow that.” she smiled at them. “Still you never know when it might be useful to be able to swim naked do you? Don’t worry, the secret is safe. I once swam naked with a boy, when I was very young. Younger than you Helen. It was a delightfully freeing experience; but you must promise to only do it in a group. I was nearly unlucky in my choice of partner.” She did not elaborate, another story hinting at a more interesting past than anybody would have guessed. “Susan, you should know that I have remembered you. You have been a good companion. And you, Simon. I count myself lucky to have met you at my late stage in life. I’m sure you thought me an old curmugeon when we first met. So I was. You helped bring me out. Do you know what I would like? A taste of that ice cream you bought. But that is long ago and far away.”

Simon set himself the task of obtaining some the very next day, it being late in the afternoon and late in the season, the ice cream sellers had mostly left and those still trying for last sales had packed up for the day.

“You don’t need to sit up with me, but if you will do so anyway, go and get the toasting fork. I’m sure my fire can make toast too. Did you think I did not know? My my, you are both naive. As for wearing your sleep wear ... oh yes Helen, these two were quite the Bohemians. Well I decided you could be trusted and since you swam as you did, you repayed my trust well. Though when it was just the two of you it could have been worse. Tell me to mind my business but did you ever? No, no of course, I should not ask.”

“Miss Barker.” Susan said quietly to her “I am as chaste as when I arrived. Perhaps I thought he might have made me less so, but he is a good boy. A good man.”

“He is, he is. Oh, no, no toast for me. Helen, Simon will walk you home. It is too late to be out alone now.”

Susan sat on, and heard confidences she would never repeat, and told Miss Barker some herself. “Perhaps it is late, but call me Aunt Josephine, I should have liked to have a niece like you.” So Susan heard one or two of the stories of Josephine Barker’s past, and was sworn to secrecy. She laughed with Miss Barker when she said “I know people think I’m an irascible, dry old stick. But as you see, I had my moments ... oh yes, some of those moments were quite something.”

Susan drowsed in the chair. She awoke at the dawn chorus “Oh, I drifted off, sorry Miss ... I mean Aunt Josephine.” There was no answer, no breath and no warmth. Somewhen in the night the old lady had drifted off. No-one had properly said goodbye. Simon berated himself that she had not got that last taste of icecream.

The Very Reverend Michael Walker said the usual platitudes, and his wife comforted the genuinely upset two young people. “Of course you wanted to say goodbye but -”

“No-one knows the time or place, therefore be prepared always.”

“Yes, thank you Michael. I was going to say that you both loved her, so you would prefer her not to have suffered just so you could say goodbye.” Susan and Simon agreed. It was true, it was harder on them, but better for the ‘dear old lady’, as everybody insisted on calling her now. Even those who had thought her an ill tempered, difficult lady.

Emily and Elizabeth wrote that they were sorry not to have visited. They sent card to the grieving great nephew and promised that they would see him soon, somewhere.

Elijah Bulstrode was the solicitor that Miss Barker had used for her will. She had, he explained, made thirteen wills for her in the time he knew her. Of course only the last one signified. “Yes, at one time she left the whole estate to the church.” Reverend Michael sat up straighter, he had been told he should attend a reading of the will. “But then she changed and decided the house should be a home for unmarried mothers.” Simon’s mother, who had finally travelled up all on her own – Simon’s father felt that whether he was there or not made no difference to how much they got from the will. “But she changed that again. Haha – at one time she even suggested she leave all her wealth to a home for old working horses! She was such a funny lady to work with. Oh, I mean amusing, not peculiar.” Elijah and she had got on well, she knew that many of the attendees would be those self-same vultures and had demanded that a proper reading of the will took place. He laughed and agreed; and he stretched it out for fun too.

“Now, let me see. Ah yes; This is the last will and testament of Josephine Henrietta Maria Barker.” Henrietta Maria? Was there a French connection? Why Henrietta and Maria? Another mystery. “I shall list the bequests if I may: to the church she leaves five hundred pounds. Half to be used for a small window in the North Transept. She wants it to be a bowl with some kind of ... potage would it be? Here is a picture. ‘Now be thankful’ should be the motto. I also want the reverend to have my carpet beater, his looks a little frayed.” Nothing escaped her, it seemed. Simon looked at the picture and, unusually for a will reading, he burst out laughing. He handed the picture to Susan, who smiled broadly. “To Mrs Emily Smythe – Emmie my cook – I leave one hundred pounds and the offer of a post at Altrot. She asked me to tell you Mrs Smythe that she will not be offended if you refuse the job, but she wanted to ensure you were able to continue being a cook.” There was a bequest to the unmarried mothers’ charity, a generous bequest, and a few small bequests to other members of the family. Mrs Peters began to get butterflies, they had not been mentioned, surely that meant they would get more. “To Mr Peters, my nephew, I leave my gratitude.”

“Is that it!” Simon’s mother said out loud.

“No, if I may finish? ‘My gratitude and four hundred pounds to be spent on taking a holiday to a warm climate so he might rid himself of his poor health.’” Yes, she hadn’t missed that he kept being ill when it was time to visit. “An apposite gift, if I may say so, since he could not travel to the funeral. To my dearest friends Susan and Simon, I leave more than gratitude. I leave my profuse thanks for making my last years more pleasant than I had a right to expect. I therefore leave them the remainder of my investments to be divided equally. And ... well there is a private letter for you two to read at your leisure.”

He handed Simon the letter and his mother tried to take it, Simon was not quite a legal adult, but he knew his mind and suggested that it was addressed to Susan and himself so they should read it quietly first.

‘Forgive my interference. The money I have dispersed to you already. Susan, you do not need to be a companion anymore, I think. And Simon, you could use the money to fund that trip you suggested. Do not pass control of it to your parents. I know why you came to me, your father hoped to inherit without having to – I think the term is suck up to me? But you clearly became happy to visit, and I am glad. I also noted that the affection between the two of you was unfeigned. I wonder if it might blossom more? In that regard, I leave the house to you two jointly; if you think you could set up home together then well and good. If not, then perhaps the unfortunate mothers might make use of it?’ They read the letter twice before sharing the contents. It was not quite a legally binding document, Mrs Peters, and later Mr Peters was sure that the way the letter was written meant that half the house was Simon’s regardless. Simon thought that what she meant was that if he and Susan could live in harmony then it was theirs to share, and if they couldn’t then the charity should have it. “You cannot give up the house to some immoral women! I am sure she did not mean that!” Mrs Peters insisted. But Susan agreed with Simon in her interpretation. She looked on the young man, several years her junior. But it was true, she had a strong affection for him. He looked at her, only a few years older, and definitely a model of perfection in his eyes. If some of the older people in the meeting thought she would seem much older than him in a few years, Simon gave no thought to that. He was uncomfortably aware that he was looking at her and imagining her without clothes. He realised that he would probably need either to break off all connection or establish a permanent relationship.