Betty reached over to a nearby table and grabbed the folded newspaper. She smoothed it out and tapped the front page. The headline read:Famed Composer Nathaniel Loring Admitted To Private Clinic Amid Health Concerns– Estate to Be Left to Agent Alistair Montgomery.
Below was a photograph of Loring in a wheelchair, looking frail and shielded from the camera flashes by sunglasses and a scarf. The article went on to detail his wealth, all of it to be left to his lifelong agent and friend, Alistair Montgomery.
‘I’ve never heard of Alistair Montgomery, which is surprising given the line of work I’m in.’
‘From what I know, he wasn’t an agent to the stars, only to Nathaniel Loring. He dedicated his life to him,’ Betty offered.
Fern was already on her phone, googling Alistair Montgomery. She began reading aloud. ‘They met at the London School of Music, became best friends and graduated together. That means he would have known my great-aunt Matilda, too.’
‘Yes, he knew Matilda. The three of them were thick as thieves and inseparable until the wedding day, when the friendship collapsed. Alistair took Nathaniel’s side and never spoke to Matilda again,’ shared Betty.
Fern googled his picture and scrolled through the images. Wide-eyed, she looked up. ‘I know him. I saw him twice last week– once in the shop and then again leaving Dorothy’s.’
‘Yes, Nathaniel Loring’s agent is Dorothy’s brother,’ Betty confirmed.
Fern was amazed. ‘I’m not sure what to think.’
‘There’s only two men alive who know the truth of why that wedding didn’t take place,’ declared Betty, ‘Alistair and Nathaniel. And according to the news, soon there may only be one.’
ChapterThirty-Four
After Clemmie had written down Fern’s order, she and Betty disappeared back inside the café.
Amelia sipped her coffee. ‘The plot thickens. Did he mention who he was when he visited the shop?’
Fern shook her head. ‘He asked about an item and I can’t quite remember…’ She racked her brain. ‘A music box,’ she finally said. ‘He wanted to know if the shop had any music boxes.’
‘Does it?’ asked Amelia.
‘No, but why didn’t he tell me who he was? He even sat down and played Matilda’s piano. I’m wondering if he would talk to me about what happened, especially if he knew Matilda too.’
‘You could try, but if he didn’t speak to Matilda after that Christmas Eve, my guess is you probably won’t get the truth, just the narrative they want to spin.’
‘You’re probably right,’ agreed Fern. ‘But someone wants me to uncover something… and on top of that I’ve got another dilemma.’
‘You know what they say about a problem shared…’ Amelia prompted.
Fern exhaled and looked at Amelia. ‘This stays between us.’ She barely knew Amelia but there was something about her that told Fern she could trust her.
‘Of course.’
‘There’s been an offer on the shop from an anonymous buyer, which includes both the shop and the contents.’
‘Wow. That’s amazing… isn’t it?’
‘I’m not sure. I would have to persuade Daniel it was a good idea, or sell him with the shop, so to speak, but it would mean I could just walk away, go back to London and my normality. There would be no more worry about what to do with the place and there’d be money in my pocket. For once, quite a lot of it.’
‘Sounds tempting,’ Amelia said carefully. ‘But you don’t seem excited.’
Fern’s food arrived at the table, and as she picked up her knife and fork she admitted, ‘I haven’t told Daniel yet, and I’m feeling very guilty about it.’
‘What does he want to happen?’
‘We agreed I would give him a month to show that the shop could generate an income. He loves that place and doesn’t want me to sell. It’s his job and his home, but he can’t afford to buy it from me. I have until Friday to make a decision, then the offer is off the table.’
‘That is intriguing.’
‘Whoever the buyer is they’re offering over the odds.’
