House of Echoes. Barbara Erskine

to Lydia and slowly ran her finger under the flap.

      The single page was embossed with the address: Belheddon Hall, Belheddon, Essex.

      My darling Lydia, One day, I hope you will understand why I have done as I have done. I had no choice. I love you. I shall always love you. Please God you will be happy and safe with your new mother and father. My blessings go with you, my darling baby. God bless you always.

      There was no signature. Joss felt her eyes flood with tears. She sniffed frantically, dropping the letter onto the desk. It was several seconds before she tore open the second envelope. It too was headed Belheddon Hall. This letter was longer.

      My dearest Jocelyn. I am not supposed to know your name but there are people who find out these things and once in a while I have had news of you. I hope you have been happy. I have been so proud of you, my darling. Forgive me, Jocelyn, but I can no longer fight your father’s wishes, I have no strength left. I am leaving Belheddon with all its blessings and its curses, but he will only let me escape if I give in. He wants Belheddon to be yours and I have to obey. If you read this letter, he will have got his way. God bless you, Jocelyn, and keep you safe.

      Laura Duncan.

      Joss read the letter again, puzzled. So, it was her father’s wish that she inherit the house. She thought of the lone grave beneath the oak tree and shook her head slowly.

      It was five minutes later that John Cornish put his head around the door. ‘All right?’

      She nodded numbly. ‘I’m finding it hard to assimilate all this.’

      He resumed his chair and gave her a kind smile. ‘I can imagine.’

      ‘What happens now?’

      He shrugged eloquently. ‘I give you a box of keys and you go away and, as our American cousins say, enjoy.’

      ‘And that is all?’

      ‘Bar a few small formalities – papers to sign and so forth – that is all.’

      She hesitated. ‘My husband’s engineering company has just folded. He’s been swindled by his partner. There is a chance he is going to be made bankrupt. We’ve lost our house – I won’t lose Belheddon?’

      He shook his head. ‘I’m so sorry. But this house is yours, not your husband’s. Unless you yourself are being made bankrupt, it is safe.’

      ‘And we could go and live there?’

      He laughed. ‘Indeed you can. Though you should remember it has been closed up a long time. I have no idea what condition it is in.’

      ‘I don’t care what condition it’s in. It is going to save our lives!’ Joss could hardly contain herself. ‘Mr Cornish, I don’t know how to thank you!’

      He beamed at her. ‘It is your mother you should thank, Mrs Grant, not I.’

      ‘And my father.’ Joss bit her lip. ‘I gather it was my father who wanted me to have the house.’

      It was several minutes before John Cornish’s secretary, on his instructions, appeared in his office carrying a small tin box which she laid reverently on the desk.

      ‘The keys, if I remember, are all neatly labelled.’ John Cornish pushed it towards Joss. ‘If you have any problems, let me know.’

      She stared down at it. ‘You mean, that’s it?’

      He smiled happily. ‘That’s it.’

      ‘It’s my house?’

      ‘It’s your house, to do with as you wish, provided you abide by the conditions.’ He stood up again, and extended his hand. ‘Congratulations, Mrs Grant. I wish you and your husband every happiness with your inheritance.’

       4

      ‘I don’t believe it. Things like that don’t happen in real life.’ Lyn Davies was sitting opposite her adoptive sister at the small kitchen table, her eyes round with envy.

      Joss reached down to Tom, sitting playing by her feet and hoisted him onto her knee. ‘I can’t believe it’s true either. I have to keep pinching myself. It makes up for losing this.’ She glanced round her at the little kitchen.

      ‘I’ll say. Talk about falling on your feet!’ Lyn scowled. ‘Have you told Mum and Dad about all this?’ Two years younger than Joss, she had been conceived after Joss’s adoption, five years after Alice had been told she could never have a child of her own. Totally unlike Joss to look at – she was squarely built, had short, curly blond hair and deep grey eyes. Nobody ever had taken them for sisters.

      Joss nodded. ‘I rang last night. They think it’s like a fairy story. You know, Mum was so worried I’d be disappointed when I wanted to look for my real parents; but she was so good about it.’ She glanced at Lyn. ‘She didn’t mind.’

      ‘Of course she minded!’ Lyn reached for the pot and poured herself another mug of thick black coffee. ‘She was desperately unhappy about it. She was frightened you might find another family and forget her and Dad.’

      Joss was shocked. ‘She wasn’t! She can’t have believed that.’ She narrowed her eyes. ‘She didn’t feel that at all. You’re stirring again, Lyn. I wish you wouldn’t.’ She took a deep breath. ‘Look, are you sure you want Tom tomorrow?’ She hugged the little boy close. ‘Luke and I can take him with us –’

      Lyn shook her head. ‘No. I’ll have him. He’ll only get in your way while you’re measuring for curtains or whatever.’ Catching sight of Joss’s face she scowled again. ‘All right, sorry. I didn’t mean it. I know you can’t afford curtains. Go on, you and Luke go and enjoy your day out. It will do him good to get away from all this mess with H & G. Mum and I will love having Tom!’

      Luke drove, his handsome square face haggard with worry and loss of sleep. For a second Joss reached over and touched his hand. ‘Cheer up. You’re going to love it.’

      ‘Am I?’ He turned to her and finally he grinned. ‘Yes, you’re right, I am. If the roof keeps most of the rain out and there is a garden big enough to grow vegetables in, I’m going to love it. I don’t care what it looks like.’

      The last week had been a nightmare of solicitors, bank managers and police investigators. Meetings with them and with creditors and accountants had filled Luke’s every waking hour as he watched the small engineering company which had been his whole life being taken apart and put under the microscope. They were not to be bankrupted at least. But it was no comfort to know that Barry Henderson was being sought by Interpol. The sour taste Barry’s betrayal had left in his mouth and the inevitable loss of the mews cottage had detracted badly from his pleasure in Joss’s windfall. And from the relief he felt when he realised that for the time at least they would have a roof, however leaky, over their heads whilst they decided what to do with the rest of their lives.

      They pulled up at last outside the village shop. ‘Are you going to introduce yourself?’ Luke smiled at her. ‘The new lady of the manor.’

      Joss shrugged. ‘What do I say?’

      ‘Tell them the truth. You’ve got to tell them, Joss. They are the post office. They’ll be delivering mail pretty soon. Go on. Give the village something to gossip about.’ He swung himself out of the car.

      The wind was icy, worrying the branches of the ash tree which grew at the road junction opposite like an angry dog, tearing off the remaining leaves. Joss followed him, turning up the collar of her jacket with a shudder as the wind tore at her hair and whipped it into her eyes.

      The shop was empty. They stood looking round, savouring the mixed smells of cheese and ham and exotic smoked sausages