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Chapter 32
‘That was a coincidence, bumping into you at The Anchor Inn on Friday night,’ said Carys.
Abigail nodded, avoiding eye contact as she stepped into the Oliver’s study at Somerville Hall. Carys was standing at the door, on her way out. She smiled. ‘They do the best battered fish and chips, don’t they, Oliver?’
He was sitting behind his desk, at the computer. His head popped up from behind the computer screen. ‘Yes.’
‘He never comes with me to eat in the pub, so I always collect a takeaway instead. But I think he wished he’d come on Friday.’
Abigail looked at her curiously.
‘Why?’
She caught the expression on Carys face, raising her eyebrows, surprised by the question.
‘Because you were there.’
Oliver coughed into his hand. ‘Carys, I thought you had something to do.’
‘Oh, yes, I do.’ Carys leaned in and whispered to Abigail, ‘Will you be there next Friday?’
Her voice wasn’t low enough because Oliver piped up, ‘Carys!’
‘Right, I’d better run along.’ She smiled at Abigail. ‘Catch you later.’ She threw Abigail a knowing smile, glancing at Oliver before she walked out of the door. Abigail sighed. That was all she needed. Someone else, like Lili, trying to play matchmaker.
Abigail took a breath and closed the door. She tried not to think about Friday evening. She couldn’t have been more shocked when Carys walked into The Anchor Inn. Fortunately, the place was crowded and noisy, which meant Carys hadn’t overheard their conversation as she passed their table near the door on her way to the bar to order her takeaway. Her brother had been talking about Toby’s ownership of the cottage. It was the number one topic of conversation, especially after Gerald had told Luke that Toby had probably been a foundling. She was pleased they all seemed more comfortable talking about Toby in her presence. Their meal, and several pints, revolved around theories as to why Toby had been given The Hideaway.
As Abigail took a seat at the other desk in the study, waiting for the computer to boot up, she thought back to that conversation. She’d hoped they’d talk about something else when she agreed to go to pub. Would the truth get back to the Somervilles?
She frowned when she recalled what her brother had said. ‘Really, Abigail, no one leaves their property to a stranger, even if they were a foundling.’ That was after she had told him about Ray’s theory that Toby’s connection was to the cottage, not to the Somervilles as she had first thought. Luke said, ‘Do you believe this foundling story?’ He’d looked at his dad. ‘How do you know he was a foundling?’
‘From what I heard in the village.’
Abigail remembered Luke shaking his head. ‘I think that’s bullshit. The obvious explanation is that Toby’s mother had an affair with Lord Somerville and he wanted nothing to do with her and his illegitimate son. Daphne knew Toby wouldn’t inherit anything from his father, so she wanted to do right by her nephew. That’s why Toby and his mother lived there until she moved away to London when she met his stepfather, and that’s when Daphne put the cottage into a trust for Toby.’
Abigail stared at the computer screen. The trouble with Luke’s theory was that it would have sounded very plausible if it wasn’t for a significant detail she’d failed to mention at that point. She’d put him in the picture, telling them about the conversation with Toby’s sister, Clarissa, and the DNA test they’d both taken soon after he discovered he’d been given the cottage. It turned out that she wasn’t his sister, which meant he’d been adopted.
‘Well, there goes that theory,’ Luke had said, downing his third pint. ‘But I still think there’s got to be more to it than simply the foundling angle.’ Luke had another theory. ‘What about if Daphne had an affair and Toby was her illegitimate son? The young nurse was renting her cottage at the time, and she took Toby in and adopted him.’
Abigail had already considered that possibility and dismissed it. By the sound of things, Daphne had continued her relationship with the man her father had forbidden her to marry. But had they had a child together? The fact that she had remained married to the army officer suggested to Abigail they had not. And if her husbandhadknown about the affair and about Daphne’s child, then why continue with the pretence? Besides, how could you keep something like that, a pregnancy, a secret? It just wasn’t possible. And how could either of them, Daphne or her lover, give him up like that?
Something Marjorie and Mabel had said came to mind. She wasn’t one for soppy sentimentality.There is no way on God’s greenearth she would have given a stranger’s son her cottage unless she had a bloody good reason.Those sentiments echoed her brother’s stance on the matter.
Abigail punched the password into the computer, still thinking about Friday evening’s conversation. She still hadn’t figured out the password to get access to Toby’s AncestryDNA account online, although she doubted it would tell her more than she knew from Clarissa. Abigail remembered sitting there, shaking her head, wishing Luke would shut up about the cottage and move on to something else. She’d gone out on Friday night to catch up with her family and get away from it all.
Luke did shut up about it when his attention quickly shifted as soon as Carys walked into the pub. Abigail couldn’t have been more surprised when the door opened and in she walked. Abigail realised she wasn’t the only one staring at Carys as she walked to the bar. Luke had noticed her too. He’d commented, ‘Who is that?’
Abigail wished she hadn’t been so quick to reply. ‘That’s Carys Somerville, Lord Somerville’s daughter. She’s back living at the Hall after splitting up from her husband.’
Abigail rolled her eyes when she then had to explain that they had kept her on at the Hall to do their accounts after she had finished covering for Emily. She’d thought her mum would have told him that. But that wasn’t why she was cheesed off. Luke had said in surprise, ‘You know her? Will you introduce me?’
Abigail recalled her response. ‘I will not!’
‘If you don’t, I’ll ask Oliver,’ said Luke, reminding his sister that he was still friends with Carys’s brother.
Carys had been standing at the bar waiting for her takeaway when she’d turned around and spied Abigail across the busy pub. Abigail winced when she remembered the moment she’d spotted Carys walking towards their table. She had quickly turned to everybody seated at the table, reminding them not to mention the cottage. ‘I mean it. Don’t!’
Fortunately, they didn’t, although she was also concerned that Carys might spot Penelope parked in full view of the pub. Carys hadn’t mentioned the car; she had been too busy talking, her eyes drifting to Luke, who had asked her to join them. Luckily for Abigail, Carys had only stayed while she waited for her takeaway. Abigail was aware that Luke had recently split up with his girlfriend. She wasn’t surprised. It wasn’t Luke’s fault. His full-time job and his commitments outside of work to the RNLI were bound to take their toll on a relationship. Luke was single again, still looking for Miss Right. It had not surprised Abigail when Luke had asked for Carys’s number. But it had when Carys gave it to him, and it had made her worry that her brother would let it slip about the cottage she had inherited.
