Free Yew Tree Gardens by Anna Jacobs Page A

careful. As he moved across the hall, he tried to pull out the letter Mr Mortlake had given him. But of course, his left arm jerked awkwardly and it fell to the floor. He bent to pick it up then held it out. ‘Here.’
    They both stared at his arm and nodded, as if they knew about his problems. ‘No need for the papers, sir,’ the woman said.
    ‘Miss Bennerden told us you had a bad arm,’ Cyril added.
    This time they both spoke more politely, but still coolly,Gil thought, as if they didn’t welcome his arrival.
    ‘You’ll forgive us for being careful, I’m sure, sir. Come into the kitchen. It’s a lot warmer there.’
    He followed her, stopping to frown and look at her questioningly as he saw bundles and boxes by the door. Someone was clearly moving out.
    ‘Cyril and I were taking our things outside.’
    ‘Are you Mrs Tibbins?’
    ‘No, sir. She broke her leg two days ago and they took her to stay at her daughter’s over Swindon way. I’m Mary. I was the head housemaid. Cyril’s my husband. He was the gardener.’
    Was? Gil wondered. What did that mean? Why were they leaving?
    Footsteps clattered down the kitchen stairs and a young woman of about twenty stopped on the bottom step, staring from one to the other, open-mouthed. She too had a bundle, but hers was wrapped in what looked like an old sheet.
    ‘There’s just me and Cyril here now, and Lizzie, who’s the maid of all work.’ Mary glanced at her husband, as if for support, and added, ‘And I’m sorry, sir, but we’re leaving today. Cook’s already gone.’
    For a moment her words didn’t sink in, then Gil asked, ‘Does Mr Mortlake know about this?’
    ‘No, sir. We’ll send him a letter tomorrow.’
    ‘Why are you leaving?’
    ‘I don’t want to talk about it, sir. Only we’ve made up our minds and you’ll not change them. Some things aren’t right, whatever the lawyers say.’
    ‘I don’t understand.’
    ‘Ask Mr Mortlake. He’ll understand when he gets the letter. Me an’ my Cyril have another job to go to.’ She glancedat her husband and jerked her head towards the door.
    Their expressions were definitely not friendly yet Gil couldn’t think what he’d done to upset them. ‘It would only be fair to tell me why you’re leaving.’
    ‘It’s not my place. Come along, Lizzie.’
    As the girl hesitated, looking as if she didn’t want to go, Walter stepped forward. ‘Surely you don’t have to leave just because they do, lass? We’ll still need help in the house, so you’ll still have a job.’
    ‘Lizzie!’ Mary’s voice was sharp.
    Still the girl hesitated, looking from Gil to Walter, then she set down her bundles as if something she’d seen reassured her. ‘Mam needs my money, you know she does, Mary. And I haven’t got another job to go to.’
    She looked pleadingly at Walter. ‘I’ll need to get my trunk off the cart, though.’
    ‘I’ll help you.’ He followed her outside, having to wait a few seconds at the door for a scowling Cyril to get out of their way.
    ‘That girl will regret this,’ Mary told Gil. ‘No one in the village is happy about you inheriting when others deserve it more. And they won’t be happy about her staying. That’s all I’ll say.’
    She turned and went out to join her husband, leaving Gil even more puzzled. Who else deserved the money? There were other, smaller legacies still to be announced, but Miss Bennerden hadn’t wanted those people informed till he was here. And it was surely her right to leave her money as she chose?
    He rubbed his forehead. It was aching and he was desperately thirsty. He turned with relief as Walter and the girl came back, carrying a battered trunk which they set next to the bundleshe’d left by the stairs. ‘Thank you for staying, Lizzie. We’re in great need of your help. I’m Walter Bilham, by the way.’
    ‘Pleased to meet you.’ She looked back at Gil. ‘It’s the money, sir. Mam’s desperate for it since Dad run off. Only … Miss