Page 21 of The Matchmaker
“My shift hasn’t started yet,” I say, with a little more bite to my words than I intended. Jack doesn’t seem to notice, but Adam hears it at once.
“No problem,” he says, shooting me a warning glare. “I’ll bring something in.”
There are a few words of thanks, more small talk about the weather and the traffic, and then the three men file past, disappearing into the back room, into Adam’soffice, like that’s a normal thing.
“What’s going on?” I ask, but Adam shakes his head.
“I’ll tell you later.”
I am instantly petulant. “No, tell me now.”
“Katie—”
“No, tell me what’s happening right now. What is that man doing here? I’m pretty sure Nush banned him.”
“Keep your voice down. And Nush doesn’t work here. She can’t ban anyone.”
“Then I will!”
“Voicedown.” He looks over his shoulder at the office door and takes my elbow, drawing me to the side. “You weren’t supposed to be here,” he says, and I stand my ground, waiting for him to break.
It takes two seconds.
“They’re here to go over the deeds for the pub,” he says, and I swear I stop breathing as an icy feeling of betrayal slithers over my skin. What the hell?
“Yousoldthe—”
“No.”
Oh. “Okay, I’m confused.”
“Seriously, Katie. You weren’t supposed to—”
“Confused, not dumb,” I interrupt. “Explain it to me before I march in there and get them to.”
Adam braces his arms against the bar, looking for once in his life like he’d rather be anywhere else. “How much do you know about property law in this country?”
“Take a wild guess.”
“Probably about as much as me then. Or at least as much as me up until a few weeks ago.” Another glance at the door and then he lowers his voice even more. “Apparently, Grandad Pat liked to gamble,” he says, and I frown.
“Bow tie man? With the majestic eyebrows?”
Adam nods. “He got into some bad debt before Dad was born and his younger brother, my grand-uncle, had to bail him out.”
“Alright. And I’m going to guess by the expression on your face you don’t mean with a bag of spuds and two goats.”
“All his savings,” Adam confirms. “And then some. Our family had a fair bit of land back then, right the way around the lake, and they transferred all of it into his brother’s name to keep it secure. Everything except Kelly’s, so Grandad could still earn a living from running it. The only thing was Grandad kept gambling. So, while he was allowed to keep the pub, they put in an option clause so he couldn’t sell it to pay off any future debts. Basically, saving him from himself. And it worked.”
“Okay,” I say slowly. “I’ve never been happier to be an only child, but it still doesn’t explain why Jack Doyle is sitting in your office.”
“The option clause said that Grandad’s brother, as the adjoining landowner, had the right to buy the pub and take it from him if he wanted to. One month’s notice and it was his. They put it into a contract, they signed it, and then Grandad met my grandmother, pulled himself together, and the whole thing was forgotten about. It’s been collecting dust in some solicitor’s office ever since.”
“But why would that…” I trail off as I put the pieces together. “Glenmill bought the land.” All the signs. All the fences. “They own the forest next to us.”
“My grand-uncle left everything to the church when he died.”
And the church sold everything off.
