The Tuscan Child(20)

I didn’t know what to say to this. In truth I was feeling a little like Alice plunging down a rabbit hole that revealed one unpleasant surprise after another. Teddy had been looking around as he spoke. “So who got the dough from the sale of the house?”

“The dough?” I stared at him. “The money from the sale all went to pay off the death duties when my grandfather died and my father inherited. We’ve been living in the lodge ever since, and my father was the art master at the school.”

“No money? That’s too bad. I always pictured my pa living in luxury in the big house of my childhood.” He glanced at the lodge. “Certainly not like this. So what about the furniture and stuff? All those creepy antiques I remember. I presume I’m entitled to a half share, as his son.”

I had taken an instant dislike to him. “You inherit the title, so I’m told. But I expect you’d have to revert to being Teddy Langley.”

“Sir Teddy. Well, ain’t that a kick! Does it come with an allowance?”

“It comes with nothing.” I forced myself to be gracious and British. “I’ve been clearing out my father’s belongings, and you are welcome to look through old photograph albums and see if there are any photos you want. Or any pieces of furniture, for that matter.”

“Sure, okay.” A gleam had come into his eyes. I led him inside. He looked at the sad piles of stuff waiting for the van from the charity shop. “Is this it?” he asked. “This is how you lived?”

“This is it.”

“And no money?”

Again I had to wrestle with myself to be honest. “I think he might have had up to a thousand pounds in his various savings accounts.”

He gave me an incredulous stare. “A thousand pounds? That’s all? You’d better keep it. I’ve done pretty well for myself. My old man, Schulz, went into the real estate business after the war, and I joined him right after college. Strip malls, mainly. I make more than that in a week. You clearly need it more than I do.”

“Thank you,” I said. “Actually I do need it. I don’t have anywhere to live right now.”

“You’re not married?”

“I’m only twenty-five,” I said. “I’ve plenty of time for that when I qualify.”

“As what?”

“A solicitor. I’m taking my exams this year.”

“An attorney, huh? They make good money.”

“When and if I qualify,” I said. “Look, would you like a cup of tea? I’ve just made a pot.”

“Sure. Why not?” he said. “A cup of tea. That’s what everyone drank all through the war. A bomb was dropped and everyone said, ‘It’s all right. Have a cup of tea.’” And he laughed.

I served him tea and some slightly stale biscuits. I don’t think he enjoyed either.

“I’ll give you the name of the solicitor who is handling Father’s estate,” I said. “He was going to ask the American embassy to help find you. Now you’ve saved him that task. But he can tell you the particulars about the title.”

He stood up, shaking his head. “I can’t think what good a title would be to me if it didn’t come with the property.”

“It might help you sell more real estate,” I said sweetly. I had meant it as sarcasm, but he thought I was serious and burst out laughing, clapping his hands together. “You might have something there, Sis. Add a touch of class to the business.”

He paused, taking a sip of tea. “Y’know, I’d been planning to come over and surprise the old guy. I was going to bring the wife and kids and let him see how I turned out. He never thought I’d amount too much. Too bad he died not knowing.”

I didn’t think my father would have been as thrilled as Teddy clearly thought he’d have been. I wasn’t quite sure what strip malls were, but they didn’t sound too respectable. Teddy fished into his own wallet. “Look, here’s my card. If you’re ever in the States, come and visit. My ma would be interested to see you, I’m sure. And the kids would get a kick out of an English aunt, speaking the way you do.”

“Thank you, you’re very kind,” I said. He stood up, heading for the door. “And you’re sure you don’t want any of this before I donate it?” I asked, gesturing around the room.

He was still grinning. “This old stuff? Hell no. You’re welcome to the lot.”

We parted company then. I watched him get into a car and drive away, wondering what kind of little boy he had been when he had lived at Langley Hall and thinking about how glad I was that my father was dead. I didn’t think he’d have been happy to see what Teddy Schulz had become.

By the end of the next day, I was ready to leave. Miss Honeywell had agreed to store the desk and trunk in the attic again. I promised to come for them as soon as I had a new place of my own. And she had generously offered for her own maids to come over and clean up the lodge for the new tenant. She had even shaken my hand warmly. “I wish you nothing but the best, Joanna. I’m sure you’ll make a splendid lawyer and do great credit to your family name.”

I was standing outside the front door, staring for one last time around what had been my home, when a car drew up and Nigel Barton got out.

“You’ve caught me just in time,” I said. “I was about to leave.”