AllFreeNovel
Share Us
‘Are you Charles Epping? I apologise for intruding but I was hoping to have a quick word with you, about my mother and Driftwood House. If that would be all right?’
The man held her gaze for a moment before breathing out loudly, as though he was deflating. ‘I am indeed Charles Epping and I suppose you’d better come in, seeing as you’re in my house already.’ He pulled the door wide open and strode back into the room.
Rosie followed him and stood, self-consciously, next to an enormous rubber plant in a vast china pot. Sunshine was dappling on a Persian rug and casting a pale stripe across a red sofa circled by squashy armchairs. In the corner stood a mahogany desk, and oil paintings – mostly portraits of people in old-fashioned clothing – hung on the walls. It was certainly eclectic in here – a ragbag mix of old furniture, probably inherited, that was no doubt worth a fortune.
Charles, Heaven’s Cove absentee landlord and recluse, now stood by the fireplace with his arm resting on the mantelpiece. He was shorter than Rosie had expected – maybe five feet ten – and younger-looking, although his hair was snow-white. His eyes, the piercing blue of arctic ice, were cold when they settled on her. He stared at her face for a moment, a slight flush rising on his cheeks, before speaking in clipped tones.
‘Why have you sought me out? I’m not the easiest person to find.’
Was that for a reason? Did Charles Epping and his wife choose to stay in this remote location on purpose, to avoid other people?
Rosie tried to keep her voice steady. ‘I’m here to talk about Driftwood House, which I believe belongs to you. My mother Sofia lives… lived there.’
‘Yes, I was sorry to hear of your mother’s death.’
His face was impassive and his tone cold, almost monotonous, as though he was merely saying what was expected in such circumstances. Rosie clasped her hands behind her back and dug her nails into her palms.
‘You sent a letter via your solicitors saying that Driftwood House belongs to you, and you intend to reclaim it.’
‘That’s correct. But you knew that would happen.’ When she grimaced, he tilted his head to one side and frowned. ‘Oh, you didn’t know? That’s interesting.’
‘Why do you think that’s interesting?’ Rosie couldn’t keep the irritation out of her voice.
‘It’s interesting that your mother never told you about her arrangement with the Epping family.’
‘I’m sure she meant to, in the future,’ said Rosie, stung into defending her mother’s incomprehensible secrecy. ‘Did you know my mum?’
‘I did not.’ He glanced at his watch, as though Rosie was taking up his valuable time. ‘Your mother was simply my tenant. A name on a rental agreement.’
‘An unusual rental agreement, that let her stay in the house until her death.’
‘My sister, Evelyn, always was kind-hearted.’
‘What does your sister have to do with it? Didsheknow my mother?’
‘They were friends.’
Rosie shook her head. The Epping family was cold, uptight and entitled, if Charles was anything to go by, and she found it hard to imagine her warm, bohemian mother having anything to do with them. Plus, Charles owned Driftwood House, so what did Evelyn have to do with any of it?
‘Mum never mentioned your sister. Did they stay friends?’
Charles blinked and glanced at a large portrait hanging above the fireplace. The oil painting showed a young woman, her brown hair swept up in a bun, with the moors stretching behind her. She had the same thin, Roman nose as Charles, but her grey eyes were kinder and her mouth was turned up in one corner as though she was about to smile. A small brass plaque was fixed to the foot of the frame and etched with the words EVELYNAMELIAEPPING:AFLASH OF LIGHTNING IN THE DARKNESS.
‘Sadly, my sister died some years ago. She…’ Charles paused, lost in thought. Should Rosie say she was sorry? She hesitated too long and the moment was lost. ‘It happened a very long time ago,’ he continued. ‘Your mother and Evelyn were friends at the time.’
‘So did Mum move into the house because of Evelyn?’
‘Your mother was always very fond of the house, according to Evelyn, and she wanted her friend to be able to live there. Evelyn asked me to set up the arrangement, and it stood until your mother died.’
‘That was very kind of her. But you say you never met my mum?’
‘That’s correct. Look, Ms Merchant.’ He strode to the French window that overlooked a large garden. ‘In light of you being unaware of the house’s provenance, I see that the timing of the solicitor’s letter was unfortunate and I apologise for that. My wife instructed our solicitor and set wheels in motion rather more quickly than I’d envisaged. But the house does belong to my family and I understood that your mother lived there alone following the death of your father.’
‘She did, and I realise that you can reclaim our home, but I’d like to know more about your intentions towards Driftwood House.’Your intentions towards Driftwood House?She was beginning to sound as pompous as him. ‘What I mean is, what are you planning to do with it?’
Charles Epping looked up at that and held Rosie’s gaze. He suddenly seemed old and tired, which wrong-footed her.
‘I know it’s your house and I probably sound impertinent questioning you like this, but I lived at Driftwood House for a long time and I care about what happens to it. I heard in the village that you want to knock the house down and build a hotel in its place.’
