Page 22 of Snowflakes Over Micklewick Bay

You’ll probably be relieved to know that this letter is nearly at an end and that I’m not going to dump any more unexpected suggestions on you. But, my love, I’m going to close with one last request. I’d like you to speak to Birdie about the things I’ve mentioned here – there really is too much to go into detail in the confines of this letter. She knows everything and will have the answers to the many questions I know I’ll have raised. She’s the wisest, most compassionate person I’ve ever known, and I trust her opinion and instincts implicitly. Please listen to what she has to say and take her advice on board. Again, this will all make more sense when you talk to her.

If I could ask one last thing, it would be that you keep an eye on her and visit her regularly, continue having days out with her like she and I did when I was well enough. I’m not just worried about leaving you, but also my dearest friend. She may be Beckinthwaite born and bred, and know everyone round about, but much as I would like you to spread your wings, I couldn’t bear to think of her feeling lonely. It means a great deal that I can rest easy in the knowledge that you’ll make sure she’s okay.

So here we are at the end of this letter, my darling girl. I know the contents will have got you thinking so, rather than stewing on them and getting yourself in a pickle, please make that appointment with Mr Cuthbert the solicitor and speak to Birdie as soon as possible. And please, please, when you learn what it is, don’t dismiss my suggestion straight away. Take the time to give it some consideration. I honestly have a good feeling about it and you know I wouldn’t want you to do anything that wouldn’t be right or good for you. Bougie Bertha is a prime example.

So, my love, all that’s left for me to say is thank you for the endless joy and love you brought into my life. I’m so grateful to have had you play such a big part in it. Now it’s time for you to go and live yours.

Lots of love and squidgy hugs,

Auntie Coll xxxxxx

The letter slipped from Hannah’s fingers and floated to the floor. Overwhelmed by emotion, she covered her face with her hands as great wracking sobs engulfed her.

FOURTEEN

BACK IN BIRDIE’S LIVING ROOM

‘I gather you know about the letter Auntie Coll wrote me before she passed away, Birdie?’ A feeling of trepidation set nerves wriggling in Hannah’s stomach.

‘Aye, I do, lovey. She was nothing if not organised, our Colleen.’ Birdie gave a sad smile. ‘It was early October last year when she popped round for a cuppa, telling me she wanted to write you a letter to read after she’d gone. She was concerned that since she had a fair bit to say you might feel overwhelmed with it all, which was why she asked if I’d mind filling in the gaps once you’d read it. She wanted to be sure that if you had any questions, you could come to me when you were ready.’

Overwhelmed? Talk about an understatement! ‘Mm. She said as much in the letter. And Auntie Coll was right, there is a lot to take in, especially after what I learnt today – I had an appointment with her solicitor in Micklewick Bay this morning.’ Hannah returned her neighbour’s small smile.

‘I had a funny feeling that’s where you’d gone. And how upset you looked when you got back told me I wasn’t wrong; it’ll have been a very testing time for you. It’s why I wanted you to come here for a cuppa; I didn’t want you to be on your own, letting your thoughts get the better of you.’

‘Thanks, Birdie, that’s kind. And so is agreeing to explain things in Auntie Coll’s letter, I know it won’t be easy for you to talk about her.’

‘Coll was my best friend. I can’t remember a time in my life when she wasn’t there, always full of fun. She did so much for me, it’s the least I could do for her – and for you, too, lovey. I should imagine you’re reeling with it all if you’ve been to see Mr Cuthbert with what he’d have to tell you.’ Birdie reached over and patted Hannah’s hand.

‘Aye, you could say. My head’s all over the place with it.’

Birdie’s expression darkened and a coldness crept into her eyes. She couldn’t have looked less like the sweet and gentle person Hannah knew so well nor the woman who was reminiscing with such fondness not fifteen minutes earlier. ‘I know all about what they’ve been getting away with all these years, that Polly and her spiteful son Darryl.’ Birdie spat the words out as if she couldn’t bear to have their names in her mouth. ‘What they did to you was unforgivable. You were a child! I don’t know how that evil woman has managed to sleep at night; that son of hers, too. Should be ashamed of themselves, the pair of them. And I’m sorry to have to say it, lovey, but your dad’s not exactly free of blame either. He could’ve stood up for you. He could’ve listened to your side of things like any decent father would. Instead, he took the easy option.’

Hannah blinked as the words landed, the meal she’d recently enjoyed now churning uncomfortably in her stomach and making her feel queasy. Dredging up those miserable times was always a painful experience even though it had all happened years ago, but losing her dad so close to losing her aunt had intensified the feelings and set new ones swirling. And, much as she wished it was different, she couldn’t argue with Birdie’s assessment of her father.

‘But Coll was determined to put things right for you when the time came. She put a lot of thought into making sure everything was in place and completely watertight so Poisonous Polly and her son finally got their comeuppance. Which, in my opinion, is long overdue. Despicable pair!’

‘Right…’ Hannah started chewing her thumbnail, her thoughts going to the unexpected news Mr Cuthbert had delivered to her that morning. There’d been a lot to take on board, and much of what he’d said had washed over her. Indeed, what little she had managed to take in had sounded totally surreal and more akin to something you’d see in the movies. It was so far removed from what she’d expected, she was sure she must’ve misunderstood or heard wrong. And it hadn’t helped that returning to Micklewick Bay had sent her anxiety levels shooting through the roof. It was hardly the most conducive combination for her to think clearly, which was why she’d been keen to head straight to Fern Cottage without taking a detour to Birdie’s when she first got back. Once she’d got out of her wet clothes and had a bath, she’d planned to take her time reading the information Mr Cuthbert had passed her in the large official-looking envelope, in the hope it would sink in and everything would make some kind of sense.

‘So you know about the property in Micklewick Bay and the situation with Midsummer Haven?’ Hannah asked.

‘Midsummer Haven, the house that used to be your home… aye, I know everything, lovey,’ Birdie said, her tone softening. ‘Coll brought me up to speed with the situation and the battle she’d been having with the property since your dad passed away.’

Hannah nodded. ‘The solicitor mentioned something about it this morning, I had no idea Auntie Coll owned it. She never mentioned it, nor the fact she was having to deal with such a nightmare when she was so poorly. I wish she’d told me – I could’ve helped, could’ve offered her some support.’ It was beginning to dawn on her that her aunt had been rather good at keeping secrets.

‘She didn’t want to worry you, and didn’t think it was necessary to tell you before now. She thought it best that you find out when the time was right. ’Course, none of us expected your dad to pass away so early and it meant that things were brought to a head sooner than we anticipated.’

‘You’re not wrong there.’ Hannah kept to herself that she’d always harboured a dream that one day, she and her father would be reunited. She’d never managed to work out how to bring it about, knowing how skilful Polly and Darryl were at manipulating a situation and keeping her away. She knew for a fact Polly used to open her father’s post, despite it being addressed to him – she’d seen it with her own eyes when she’d lived with them – and assumed she continued to do so. Being marked as confidential was no deterrent. What’s more, she’d heard on the grapevine that the woman had returned to work at Makepeace & Merryweather solicitors where she’d first landed slap-bang in the middle of the Merryweather’s lives as a part-time receptionist all those years ago. It was no doubt so she could gatekeep every phone call, every item of post and every visitor to the office; to essentially micromanage Jon’s life. To make matters worse, Darryl had joined the team as soon as he’d qualified as a solicitor, having been made a partner when he was barely out of training which Hannah thought would have ruffled a few feathers. The way things were, it would’ve been easier to gain contact with the president of the United States than it would her father, which was why Hannah had given up trying. She told herself that he knew where to find her if he wanted to reach out and talk. But the lack of contact from him said it all, and now it was too late.

‘So, from the gist of what Mr Cuthbert told me this morning, am I right in thinking Midsummer Haven was owned by my mum and Auntie Coll, as was Fern Cottage, Snug Cottage and several other properties in Micklewick Bay?

‘Aye, you’d be spot on in thinking that, flower.’

Hannah’s brow furrowed. ‘But how come my dad had been living there with Polly all these years? I mean, surely the property would’ve gone straight to Auntie Coll after my mum died?’ If that was the case, she couldn’t imagine for one second that her aunt would be happy letting them remain in the house if it belonged to her.

‘Ah, that’s because your mum made a will not long after she had you – being a lawyer meant Bronagh was on top of stuff like that. She wanted to make sure everything was in order what with the O’Riordans owning so much property – your mum and your aunt were the joint beneficiaries of their parents’ estate which was pretty substantial by all accounts. Anyroad, your mum stipulated that your father be allowed to remain in the property for the duration of his lifetime, but that ownership should be transferred to your aunt – if she was still alive. It was her way of making things clear and avoiding any trouble in the future if he remarried. Then when Coll passed away, everything would go to you; your dad wouldn’t benefit at all from the O’Riordan estate.’ Birdie puffed out her cheeks and looked over at Hannah. ‘I hope I’m explaining this okay for you, flower; it’s complicated stuff.’

‘You are, Birdie, thank you.’ Hannah gave her a grateful smile. It wasn’t that it was complicated – unexpected and a bit confusing, more like.