Page 116 of Hope and Happiness in Bluebell Wood
‘How do you know all this?’ Callum asks Jonah dubiously.
‘I told you, most of it is written in books in your office. The past rectors were very good at keeping records of everything, and the church dates back to Norman times, doesn’t it? You’d know there are records of everything if you’d just spend some time reading them.’ Jonah folds his arms across his chest and gives Callum another disapproving look.
‘All right! Stop making me feel bad that I’ve not had time to read some dusty old books. I prefer to concentrate on looking after the parishioners I have who are living and breathing, not those that passed on centuries ago.’
Jonah purses his lips, and I want to laugh at the two of them bickering. I feel like I’m in the middle of some seventies sitcom taking place in the village vicarage.
‘Please continue, Jonah,’ I ask sweetly. ‘I’d like to know more.’
‘Thank you, Ava,’ Jonah says, rolling his eyes at Callum. ‘At least someone is interested.’
‘I’ll be interested when you get to the point!’ Callum joshes good-naturedly.
‘Anyway,’ Jonah continues, ‘so that Corbin could not only support the running costs of his church, but his new wife and their future family too, he was bequeathed some land by Mavis’s father. Mavis’s family were by then living up in themanor house on the hill, like you correctly said. The land the couple was bequeathed is the land your cottage is on now, Ava, the family’s original home. This became, upon their marriage, the vicarage – or rectory, as it’s correctly known in this parish. The house we’re in now was bought by them at a later date, because it was a little closer to the church and it had more space to house their ever-growing family. Seven children they had!’ he says, looking shocked. ‘Seven! Can you imagine?’
‘So what you’re saying,’ Callum says, trying to clarify this in his own head, ‘is that the land Ava’s cottage is on was part of the original bequest to the farmer from the king?’
Jonah nods.
‘And it originally belonged to Mavis’s family – well, her ancestors?’
‘Yes.’
‘And because Mavis married the vicar of the parish, some of that land was then bequeathed to them?’
‘You’re following it so far,’ Jonah says.
‘And even though they moved to this house we’re in now, they didn’t sell the land the original vicarage was on?’
‘No, surprisingly, it must have held sentimental value for them, so they just continued to rent it out.’
‘What happened to it after they passed away, then? It just passed down through their families?’
‘Not exactly.’ Jonah shakes his head. ‘It’s a bit of a sad tale at this point. Mavis and Corbin may have had seven children, but only one survived. Four died in infancy of various childhood diseases, and two were killed in battle in the First World War. Their only surviving child, a son, also became a priest, so when both Corbin and Mavis passed away, their son took over the parish and the land continued to be his. But it was whenhepassed away, without leaving any direct heirs, that he left the land his parents had been given to the Church in his will, and it’s remained that way ever since.’
‘So technically the Church owns my cottage?’ I ask, my mind still racing. ‘I thought Evelyn did?’
‘No, Evelyn rents it from us,’ Jonah explains. ‘Officially we shouldn’t actually see any revenue from it. Since 1976 all profits from glebe land – i.e. land that brings in any money for the Church – should go directly to the Diocesan Board of Finance. But because this particular section of land has such an unusual history, an exception was made and the land is still owned directly by us at St Francis, and we keep any revenue from it – which in our case is rent from the cottage.’
‘I knew Evelyn rented it from us,’ Callum says, looking astonished, ‘but I had no idea of the cottage’s history.’
‘Again,’ Jonah says, ‘if you’d read the books—’
‘In my office, yes I know, I know.’
‘But if that’s the case,’ I say, still trying to piece this all together, ‘the Church might not only own the land where my cottage is, it could still own much of the land that was originally bequeathed to the farmer.’
‘It’s highly unlikely,’ Jonah says. ‘I’m sure much of it would have been sold on over the years. Our records only show that Mavis and Corbin were given the land your cottage is on when they married because it related to the vicarage at the time. I’m not sure what happened to the rest of the land her father might have still owned. I guess there must be records of it somewhere.’
‘Let’s stop and think for a second,’ I say, as my mind continues to race. ‘What if the land around Bluebell Wood wasn’t sold by either Mavis’s ancestors or her son? That would mean the Church could still own it now if her son left everything tothem? And if that land happened to include the fields that were sold for building . . . ’
‘We might be able to stop the development!’ Jonah cries, catching on immediately. ‘Oh my goodness, you’re right, Ava.’
We both turn and look at Callum, our eyes wide with excitement.
‘You two are getting completely carried away,’ he says, shaking his head. ‘What are the chances that the land wasn’t sold on officially over the years, decades, centuries even? People are always looking for ways to make money. There’s no way that the Church could possibly still own land around here and no one knows about it. Na-ah. No way in the world.’
Both Jonah and I sit silently, neither of us willing to be discouraged.
