Page 62 of Cupcakes and Kisses in Micklewick Bay

‘Right.’ She absently picked up a cloth and wiped the spilt tea from the table. She wasn’t sure how she felt about this information.

‘But if you’ve set your heart on leaving, I’ve got a couple of other properties, if you’d rather have a look at those instead? You never know, they might be more suitable.’

She rinsed the cloth, turning to meet his gaze, pushing her mouth into a smile. She didn’t want to appear ungrateful or rude, especially when his intentions came from a good place. ‘No, that’s fine. I’d rather not disrupt the kids if possible. I’d like to stay, if that’s okay?’

‘Yeah, of course, whatever you feel’s best for the three of you.’ He let out a sigh, clearly relieved. ‘Just as soon as the sale goes through, I’ll look into getting the windows replaced and deal with whatever else needs doing; just make a list and I’ll get onto it straight away.’

Jasmine nodded, not liking the feeling that was creeping over her.

TWENTY-NINE

WEDNESDAY

A feeling of apprehension gripped Jasmine as she perched on the edge of her seat in the waiting room of Cuthbert, Asquith & Co. It wasn’t helped by the awkward atmosphere that pervaded the air. The only sound was the sonorous ticking of the large clock on the wall and the tapping of fingers on a keyboard. With everything else that had been going on recently, she’d put the Forsters’ accusations to the back of her mind until this morning. She just hoped Mr Cuthbert would believe her when she told him she didn’t have any of the things the Forsters’ solicitors had listed in their letter.

The phone on the receptionist’s desk rang out, splicing through the uncomfortable quiet of the room. Jasmine and the two other waiting clients turned towards it.

Moments later the receptionist peered over at Jasmine. ‘Miss Ingilby, Mr Cuthbert’s ready for you. His office is on the first floor. If you take a left at the top of the stairs, it’s the door at the end.’

‘Okay, thank you.’

Arriving outside a door bearing a brass plate with Mr Cuthbert’s name in a cursive hand, Jasmine gave a tentative knock, her heart hammering.

‘Come in,’ said a well-spoken voice.

Jasmine stepped into the room to see the solicitor sitting behind a large partners’ desk, his thinning grey hair swept back over his head, his half-moon glasses perched on the end of his nose. The shelves of legal books that occupied the full length of the wall behind him and the dark wood panelling gave the room an old-fashioned and formal air.

‘Good afternoon, Miss Ingilby, please take a seat.’

‘Thank you.’ She gave a nervous smile.

‘So, thank you for coming.’ He leant forward, threading his fingers together. ‘I expect you’re here about the letter.’ He smiled kindly at her.

Jasmine cleared her throat, wondering how he already knew about the Forsters’ communication to her, she hadn’t mentioned it when she’d made the appointment. ‘Er… yes, that’s right. I was hoping you’d be able to advise me what to do.’

‘Advise you what to do?’ He arched a bushy, grey eyebrow.

‘Yes, if you wouldn’t mind, that is.’ She swallowed, noting his slightly baffled expression. She hoped she didn’t sound stupid. ‘I’ve told them so many times, I don’t have the things they’ve listed, but they don’t believe me. And when I got the letter, with them threatening legal action, I thought I should make an appointment with you so you could reply on my behalf, if that’s okay.’

Mr Cuthbert rubbed a hand over his chin. ‘You’re here about a letter from the Forsters?’

‘Yes, it arrived last week.’ She reached into her bag and retrieved the envelope. Straightening out the letter, she handed it over to him. ‘This is it.’

He read it quietly, his expressive eyebrows rising up and down.

‘I honestly don’t have any of it. I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve told them. The last time I saw any of the jewellery,Bart had it. He told me he needed to pawn it. That was over seven years ago and, as far as I’m aware, he never bought them back. My friend, Stella, she’s a lawyer – you probably know of her – and she suggested I get you to send a reply to them on my behalf. Do you think the pawn shop in Lingthorpe will still have copies of receipts of whatever records they keep?’ Though she was aware she was gabbling, Jasmine just wanted to get all the information out. She continued, telling him of Bart’s debts and the unsavoury characters he’d got himself involved with.

Mr Cuthbert listened quietly, scribbling down notes with a fountain pen. ‘I see. It must have been a dreadful time for you, Miss Ingilby.’ He set his pen down on the table and steepled his fingers together. ‘I think the first thing we should do is contact the pawnbrokers and ask them if they have any documents or receipts relating to Bart and the items listed in the Forsters’ letter. If so, we’ll request that they send copies. That way you’ll have irrefutable proof that their son pawned the items and the pawnbroker, in turn, sold them on. I’ll ensure that a letter goes out in the post today. We’ll just have to hope they’ve still held on to the documents.’

‘Thank you,’ she said, relief rushing through her that Mr Cuthbert not only believed her, but that he also thought there was a chance they could show the Forsters physical proof that she didn’t have any of those things.

Mr Cuthbert cleared his throat. ‘When I saw your name in my diary, I assumed you’d made an appointment to discuss the other matter.’

‘Other matter?’ The relief of moments ago was elbowed out of the way as a fresh surge of adrenalin started pumping through her veins. What else could there be? Not more from the Forsters, surely?

‘Yes, the letter I sent you regarding Mrs Enid Lambton.’

‘What letter? I haven’t received anything from you.’Please don’t let it be more hassle!

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