Page 85 of One Cornish Summer With You

‘Come on then. Let’s go in the office and have a chat. If it’s nothing to do with these papers, what can it be? Luckily, I love a mystery.’

Heaving an inner sigh of relief, Ruan followed Polly into the stable office and accepted the coffee Polly insisted on making for him, even though it was so strong it could probably strip paint off the woodwork at Seaspray.

‘Hector tells me you’ve moved into that old wreck down by St Loy Cove?’

‘Yes …’ Ruan said, a little surprised, although he rapidly concluded that everyone in West Cornwall would know soon enough. He’d been foolish to think he could keep it a secret from anyone, but at least it made his questions easier to broach.

‘Hmm,’ she said. ‘Nice place. In its day. One of the best positions in Cornwall, probably in Britain. I haven’t been near it for decades, but I heard it was falling down now. There was a riding school down there once. We used to take the ponies down the track when I was a girl …’

‘Well, that’s partly the reason for my visit. When we were going to the festival, you mentioned something about St Loy and at the time I didn’t say anything about thehouse – for various reasons – but I was wondering if you knew Walter Cavendish?’

Polly snorted. ‘I wouldn’t say “knew”. Nobody really did. You encountered Walter rather than knew him. We’d stop for a picnic and the ponies would drink from the stream. The streams were clean then … Mind you, old Walter never liked us using the track. Old dragon. We told him it was a public bridleway but he’d still tell us to bugger off. He was so litigious too. Always involved in some legal dispute or other if he thought someone was trying to graze their animals on his land or build an access track.’

‘He was definitely quite a character,’ Ruan said cautiously.

‘You can say that again!’ Polly said with a loud huff. ‘He never spent a penny he didn’t absolutely have to. He bought land and properties when he could – usually from broke farmers or desperate neighbours – and sold some of them when prices rose. He knew exactly what he was doing, of course.’

‘Oh?’ Ruan said, intrigued by the comment.

‘Oh yes, his father was a solicitor. Had his own firm. Walter went into it for a while, but he gave it up suddenly and decided to try extortion and blackmail instead.’

‘Not really?’

Polly sniggered. ‘I don’t know for sure, but I wouldn’t put it past him. From what I heard from local gossip, his father was a vile individual too. A dreadful tyrant to Walter and his mother. He sent Walter to some God-awful boarding school on Dartmoor when he was seven.’

‘Jesus. Sorry, I mean, how horrible.’

Polly burst out laughing. ‘Don’t mind me. I swear like a trooper when I don’t have young people here. I don’t want to be a bad influence. Anyway, Walter was a right shit but with that upbringing, I’m not surprised he turned out to be a wrong ’un. Then when Kathleen took off, that tipped him over the edge.’

‘Kathleen? You knew her? She was Walter’s girlfriend, right?’

‘I didn’t know herverywell but when I was a girl I met her half a dozen times on social occasions, although she was a good decade older than me. She seemed very glamorous – natural but gilded, like a girl in a Lamorna Birch painting …’ She peered at Ruan. ‘You do know who Lamorna Birch is?’

‘I’ve heard of him. I know he painted a lot of scenes around the area where the house is.’

‘Yes, so evocative,’ Polly said dreamily. ‘Anyway. Back to Walter and Kathleen. She loved horses too. So that sent her even higher in my estimation.’

‘You said Walter was even worse after she left?’

‘Oh yes. That’s what I heard. My mother and Kathleen’s were acquaintances. They were both on some committee or other. I can’t remember what it was for. My mother’s not with us now, of course …’ Polly said wistfully. ‘Mustn’t get maudlin. Has no one ever told you about Walter or the house?’ she went on briskly, and then stared at him hard. ‘How on earth did he come to leave the place to you? Why don’t you know all this already?’

‘Because I only ever met him once … and I’m not surewhy he left it to me,’ Ruan said, unwilling to mention Walter’s cryptic note to him.

‘How very odd. Aren’t you gagging to find out?’

‘You could say that.’ Impulse seized him. ‘Do you mind if I show you something? It’s to do with Walter and Kathleen. Maybe you can shed some light on the mystery?’

‘Is this some sort of secret?’ Her eyes lit up. ‘I love a secret.’

‘Well, I’d appreciate you keeping it to yourself,’ he said. ‘Especially from Hector because it’s absolutely nothing to do with work. Or anyone else for now. You know how gossip spreads in a small community.’

‘Ruan, my dear, I swear I won’t tell Hector or anyone. Fella doesn’t have a romantic bone in his body anyway.’

Ruan tended to agree. By the fiery zeal in Polly’s eye, he now had no choice but to show her the letter.

‘Come on, then. I presume you have this missive about your person? Let’s see what’s got you all worked up.’

Ruan had to explain that while he didn’t have the missive with him, he did have a photo, which he showed Polly.

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