Claire didn't seem at all surprised about the run-in with Scrooge...I mean Marley, the despotic bank manager...


Get A Life!

By Susan Brown

Chapter 17

Previously …

I hated bullies of all kinds going back to that bully at school, Pongy Thomas, who made my life a misery. I could imagine that Mr Marley had been like that and still was. I could see by the gleam in his eye that he enjoyed putting me down. Well, I would be surprised if he was still in a job when the bank realised what he had done.

I didn’t like being nasty to anyone. I considered myself to be a nice and considerate person. I wanted my good fortune to be a blessing and not a curse to all those on the island. I just hoped that people like Mr Marley were in the minority.

I had learned one thing, I wasn’t a pushover and I had a feeling that I would sometimes have to make some harsh decisions if I wanted to achieve good things on the island.

I sighed as I realised that I had to make a phone call and it was one that I wasn’t looking forward to.

I pulled out my phone and quick dialed.

‘Hi Claire. Erm, I have done something that I hope won’t cause problems…’

And, och aye the noo; the story continues…

Claire didn't seem at all surprised about the run-in with Scrooge...I mean Marley, the despotic bank manager.

'He's been a thorn in our side ever since he joined the branch about six months ago. Mr Fletcher, the previous manager was very nice and I got on well with him. He was moved to another branch and then we were saddled with Marley. Strangely enough, the bank arrangements were one of the things that I wanted to discuss with you. I do not have the authority to change banks.'

'Well I seem to have sorted that one out for you. Can you make arrangements to see the bank manager for The Scottish Liberal Bank as soon as possible? I don't want to just walk in there and anyway, you would need to be with me.'

'That shouldn't be a problem. Maybe I could get him to come here tomorrow when you come up?'

'That would be good, if it can be arranged. Also, another thing, I'm staying with Auntie at the moment. It isn't ideal, she's a bit nosy and I need to be discrete in some of my dealings, I think. Her memory is bad, but she seems to remember all the things I don’t want her to and I am sure that she passes on snippets of information to half the island.'

'I know what you mean. For someone as deaf as her, she appears to pick up rather a lot, despite her memory issues.'

'Is she under the doctor for that?'

'Yes, she has been for years.'

'Good, to get back to the point, would it be okay to move into the Manor?'

'Of course it is. The place is yours after all and it would be nice to have you here. But when you move in, it means that everyone will know your status.'

I sighed.

'I think that very soon everyone will know about it anyway. It’s like running against the tide. I can’t imagine that Mr. Marley will keep quiet or the bank staff either, despite claims about confidentiality and all that. I think that my idea about keeping things under my hat was never going to work out that well.'

I sighed again and hoped that it was going to be a habit, the sighing thing I mean.

'I'll come up at about nine o'clock,’ I continued, ‘it’s not too early for you?'

'I would have been up about three hours by then.'

'Good for you,' I replied, not impressed by someone who gets up in the middle of the night, 'anyway, see you then.'

I put my phone back in my bag and sat back, looking at the pretty scenery but not really taking in the beauty of it. How my life had changed after just a few brief weeks. I touched the cheek below my eye and winced slightly from the still lingering pain from my attacker's assault.

As I was musing, I felt something lick my ear and I nearly jumped six feet in the air.

‘Baaa.’

Turning around, I was face to face with a sheep, on a lead of all things. She looked vaguely familiar.

‘Dolly, is that you?’

‘It’s Agnes, ye wee eejit.’

Holding the lead was Finlay Cameron. Why he was walking his sheep like a little doggy, I didn’t know and didn’t want to get into that.

‘So, ye have come inter some gooud fortune then?’

He grinned and I could see what teeth he had were in sore need of dentistry and industrial cleaning.

‘What do you mean?’

He tapped the side of his nose and winked at me.

‘You’ll no be wantin’ my cottage down by the sea then?’

‘You’ll have to ask the council that. It’s to them you owe the back rent.’

‘I should ha had rent rebate. I’m poor as a kirk mouse.’

‘That wasn’t what I heard.’

‘That’s a bare faced lie. I am poor except for a wee bit of cash to keep for my poor wee pension.’

‘Take it up with Angus and Sally, not me.’

He stood there, as Agnes attempted to eat a weed by the side of the seat, and stared at me.

‘Things ha changed since you ha come and I don’t like it. Why don’t ye go back te the smoke where ye belong?’

‘I belong here and nothing that you say or do will change that.’

‘We’ll see aboot that. Come on Agnes, the smell around here is somethin’ awful.’

I silently agreed, I wasn’t sure who smelled worse, Agnes or Finlay.

Agnes looked at me, I swear apologetically, and went off down the road with Finlay muttering to himself and darting looks at me as he went.

I shook my head; how he had known of my change of circumstances? I didn’t know, but at least he couldn’t have known everything, or at least I hoped that he didn’t.

I forgot about Finlay and his demented sheep for a moment and just relaxed and looked out to sea again.

This was all miles away from London and all the problems I had there. I now had a different set of problems which were rather more pleasant (apart from Finlay and a few others). I just hoped that I was up to the challenge that had literally dropped in my lap.

My eye caught a movement down by the shore; it was a horse and rider. I recognised the horse as Sugar Plum and the rider, of course, Isabel, the primary school head mistress. They slowed to a trot and then a canter and finally, they walked up the beach towards the spot where I was sitting, Sugar Plum blowing a bit, but looking frisky after her run through the tide.

I stood up as they arrived.

'Hello Isabel.'

'Hi Chloe, how are you?'

'Fine thanks, lovely day for a ride on the beach.'

'Yes it’s been great. Can I tempt you into joining the riding club? We’re small but quite good.'

'I might. Erm, I think that to might have access to a horse or two up at The Manor, I might be able to have the use of one from there. Mind you, I will need lessons.'

'Yes, The Manor has several horses and a few are loaned out to the kids in the club to use. Clair's good like that. I’m sure we can arrange lessons for you. So you've been up to The Manor then?’

‘Yes, Claire has been very welcoming.’

‘She has her work cut out looking after the estate.’

‘I believe so. I’m going to sort of help out when I can.’

I felt bad about my little white lie but knew that the timing of the announcement of my ownership, title and the rest of the complicated situation was important and I wanted the news to get out when I wanted it rather than at any other time, or so I had hoped before my little contretemps with Finlay.

‘Oh, so what I heard was true.’

‘What’s that?’

‘That you are the queen bee around here now, own most of the island and you are, in fact Lady Peploe.’

‘Who told you?’

‘I can’t remember, it might have been the baker’s daughter or the post mistress or someone else. You know how these things get around.’

I groaned. What was the point…

I arrived back at Aunties about half an hour later. I had promised to go to Isabel's stables in a few days time. She didn't seem all that phased about my position. I fact she thought that it was a hoot! I just hoped that others would take the same laid back attitude to me now.

Auntie was watering her hanging baskets outside the cottage. She saw me and smiled.

‘Can I help you?’

‘It’s me Auntie, Chloe.’

She looked a bit puzzled.

‘I don't have an Auntie Chloe and anyway, aren't you a bit young to be my aunt?’

‘No Auntie, it's me, Chloe. I’m staying here with you, remember?’

‘Then why didn't you say so; confusing poor wee woman like that. Have you had your tea?’

‘Erm yes, I had a bite a bit earlier.’

‘That’s good. You need to eat more if you are to go on and be the Lady of the Manor.’

I looked at her in astonishment. Was she having me on? Was all this confusion and dottiness ac,t a disguise for a woman who could give MI5 a run for their money?

I went upstairs rueing the fact that all my plans for secrecy were falling about my ears. So much for my being a sort of secretive Robina Hood giving to the poor and being an all round nice egg…

As I lay in my bed that night I wondered what else might happen to me. It all seemed so surreal. Here was I, a poor wee wannabe girl who left the lights of London after getting the sack and being assaulted for being transgendered. I arrive at, to me anyway, a mystical and magical island only to find that I was the owner and in charge of everything I surveyed.

It all defied belief. What were the chances of this happening? On top of that, I had met the man of my dreams and he was fully aware of who and what I was and he still loved me!

I turned over and then relaxed. There was no point in dwelling on things that would keep me awake. Tomorrow would be another day of excitement and revelation, I was sure, so I decided that I would just wait and see and try to get some sleep.

The next morning, I awoke to the sound of thunder and heavy rain pattering on the glass of the windows. The wind was howling and it looked like it was going to be filthy weather even for the ducks.

I stretched, looked at the time on my bedside clock and realised that it was time for me to get up.

Walking over to the window whilst scratching my bottom in a most unladylike way, I drew back the curtains and nearly jumped out of my skin.

There, on the window ledge, staring at me intently, looking bedraggled and as if it had been dragged through a hedge backwards, was a woebegone seagull; it's feathers all askew and looking very sorry for itself.

Beyond was a picture of what the weather can do. The seas were very rough, from what I could see through the spray and the torrential rain. Auntie’s place was a wee bit off the sea front but even from there I could see that this was a humungous storm of epic proportions.

I pitied anyone rash enough to go out in weather like that. Then I remembered that I was supposed to go up to the Manor this morning. Pinkie was not going to be used, even though she was saddle sore from the attack on her, I could not have ridden her today, in that weather.

I picked up my phone and rang Claire.

‘Hi Claire, I’m not sure that I can make it this morning. The weather is awful and I can’t use Pinkie.’

‘The weather isn’t that bad; a touch of rain and wind, perhaps...’

‘You have to be kidding me. Weather like this was mentioned in the bible, I swear, apocalyptic I think the word is. I was going to ring Noah and ask if he had room in his ark for me and a stranded seagull.’

‘You exaggerate. Douglas the gillie will pick you up at 8.30, you should get cracking!’

‘Yes Mum.’

‘Cheeky minx!’

We both laughed and she hung up, the phone not her.

Sandra the seagull was still looking at me so I pulled the curtains across. I hated to be stared out whilst getting ready.

Auntie was still in her bat cave when I stood outside waiting for Douglas. A few minutes past 8.30 and he hove or is that hoved, into sight.

Luckily, the weather had improved to a minor hurricane, so things could have been worse. Even so, I was rather wet, although I was wearing my Pinkie type waterproofs.

I scrambled into the Range Rover and after a grunt of welcome in answer to my cheery, ‘good morning,’ we were off.

The ground was wet and the roads full of puddles as we wended our way through the lanes to reach The Manor. There was a scarcity of people on our journey which was hardly surprising considering the weather conditions. I tried to strike up a conversation with Douglas, but my happy chat was met with a stone wall of silence and animal like grunts. I began to wonder if he was unable to speak English and at that point and gave it up as a bad job.

We went up a particularly steep hill and at the top was a lay-by and Douglas pulled the car over to the side and switched off the engine.

I looked at him enquiringly and wondered if I was going to be attacked, raped or murdered. You hear of things like that happening and Douglas’s attitude to me had been far from welcoming and friendly the both times we had met.

As a matter of interest, I have a vivid imagination and said imagination was working overtime at that moment. Where was the pepper spray and stun gun when you needed it? I fingered the door handle, just in case I had to make a run for it and then he looked at me and sighed.

‘Sorry Ma’am I ha te know.’

‘Know what Douglas?’

‘The rumours are that we are all te be laid off and ye will sell up an go back te the mainland. I haf a wife and two bairns and a tied cottage and I need te know.’

‘Douglas, I don’t know what you have heard, but the last thing I want is to lay anyone off. I am staying here; it is my home and a place where my ancestors were born and raised. If it wasn’t for my dad having a row with my grandfather I would have lived here all my life as well. What I want is for things to improve here and to ensure that your kids and everyone else’s on the island will want to stay and have jobs and prosper. I can promise you that I will do all that I can to help with that.’

‘Ye promise?’

‘I do.’

Then he smiled and his whole face changed, for the better. It seemed that I now had at least one fan!

Ten minutes later we arrived at the Manor and as we went through the gates, the rain stopped and the sun came out. Muckle’s quirky weather had done it again. It was now like summer and I began to steam in my waterproofs.

As soon as we stopped, I thanked Douglas, got out of the car and stripped. Well not stripped everything, only my waterproofs. Under them, I was wearing a white top and cropped trousers, which wasn’t very office or business woman type clothes, but I wasn’t into that style and I wanted to start as I meant to go on and be casual when I could.

Claire came out to greet me and I went over to hug her. I don’t think that she was used to that sort of thing and she seemed a bit stiff. That would have to change.

‘Hi Claire, the weathers improved a bit.’ I said cheerfully as I put her down.

‘It does that; one minute nasty the next lovely.’

‘So, what’s the plan?’

‘Well first coffee and croissants in the conservatory and then we go through some paperwork. Mr Campbell your solicitor is coming up again…’

‘He’s delicious...I mean croissants are delicious.’

‘Behave, he's married and you are attached at the hip to Alistair. Where was I, oh yes, then we have a meeting with our accountant and finally you new bank manager.

‘So, the new bank wants us on their books then?’

‘In a heartbeat.’

‘Mr Marley won’t be happy.’

‘No he will not. In fact, he rang me last night almost pleading for us to stay with his branch and I had the greatest of pleasure in telling him that we would no longer do business with his bank. I left him almost crying. I wasn’t sure if that’s because of the bank’s loss or the fact that he is almost certainly in big trouble with his head office.’

I shrugged. After what he said to me, I felt little sympathy for him. A man like that, I wouldn’t put in charge of the stationary cupboard. Was I getting hardnosed? I didn’t think so, just realistic.

And so I started on my morning of meetings. It was strange, when I was a nobody, everybody treated me as unimportant, like Marley, and of no consequence. But now I was titled, rich and all the rest of it, I was the best thing since sliced bread according to those who seemed to think it mattered.

I just hoped that people would see me as I was and not as a consequence of what I had.

At the end of the morning u knew more or less where I stood, bar some paperwork. I was the Marchioness of Peploe, I had agreed to take the family name of McKay; not because of any angst about what happened with my parents but more to keep things simple.

After the solicitor Hamish Campbell had finished with me, he left and was replaced by the accountant.

Mark Norris, the accountant was a nice man, if a bit dry. He was in his early fifties I would say and was what I would call of the old school; conservatively cut suit and tie, very correct English speech without any sign that he had been born north of the border. He was a nice man, nevertheless and I wondered vaguely if he ever let his short hair down at the office Christmas party. ’My Lady...’

‘Please call me Chloe.’

He looked shocked at the mere suggestion.

‘Please, if we might keep this formal, I feel more comfortable and anyway, you should be proud of who you are not be concerned when people use your title.’

I just shrugged and smiled, thinking that I would work on him another time. I was anything but a quitter.

‘As I was saying My Lady; Drinkwater, Laker, Smart and Norris have been looking after the affairs of the estate for eighty years. In that time we have advised your family regarding all matters appertaining to the accounts, investment portfolio, personal financial affairs and many other matters that fall within our purview...’

‘Sorry, purview?’

He looked up and smiled.

‘Sorry, in effect it means dealing with matters within our authority, influence, or knowledge. We are here to advise you and let you know what you should or shouldn’t do. Of course, the decisions will always lie with you and your team and as I say, we are here to advise and give support.

‘Thank you Mark, I can call you Mark?’

He nodded and smiled. We would get on first name terms sooner or later, but that was a start.

‘So, Claire here has told me something about what I or the estate owns and I have seen some paperwork that, to be honest, goes over my head a bit. Can you tell me within the nearest, I don’t know, thousand pounds, how much the estate is worth and how much am I worth personally. I only ask because I need to know how much I have to spend on a number of projects that I hope, with Claire’s help, to initiate. Also I want to buy a car and fix my scooter.’

‘I don’t think that a car or scooter repair will trouble your bank balance much; now let me see...’

He looked through some papers, then dug out his iPad and fiddled about a bit and then looked up.

‘The estate has a net worth of two hundred and fifty.’

‘Thousand?’

That didn’t sound much, perhaps property up here and abroad might not be worth as much as London...

‘Million.’

‘What?’

‘Two hundred and fifty million pounds.’

‘Oh, erm ,that’s obscene, did the family rape and pillage for that or is that purely drugs maybe money laundering?’

Claire had been sipping her tea and she snorted tea all over the Axminster carpet.

I frowned at her before turning back to Mark.

‘Well?’

‘The money and property was legally obtained, I can assure you. What happened in the time of the Stewarts, I cannot say.’

‘The estate and all the other stuff; it’s a limited company isn’t it?’

‘Yes.’

‘So, erm, I can’t just go and spend company funds on anything I like, as I would answer to the board of directors and the shareholders, is that right?’

‘Correct, you have grasped the facts.’

‘Do I have many shares?’

He looked through the papers again and looked up.

‘Oh, for god’s sake Mark, stop faffing around and tell the poor girl.'

I looked at Claire who had a mixture of anger and amusement on her face, not an easy thing to do...

He smiled at Claire and then turned to me once again.

‘Sorry, I am prone to dramatics a bit. I did have a word with your solicitor about your position. We are both executors of the estate and he’s a golf pal, anyway, he confirmed what I already knew. There are several shareholders. twenty-five percent of the company is owned by a number of charities, five percent is owned by Claire here, although she didn’t know that until a short time ago and you My Lady, own the rest.’

‘What?’

‘You own seventy percent of the company.’

‘Gosh, that means that I can help a lot of people.’

‘Well much of the assets are tied up in property but you have a very healthy balance to play with, if you feel the need to do good works and in any case, its tax deductible, especially if you funnel everything through The Peploe Trust.’

‘What’s that?’

‘A charitable trust set up to help the community and to be honest, it made sense, tax wise.’

‘Well,’ I said, rubbing my hands, ‘that all seems good to me. Now...’

‘Sorry to interrupt My Lady but you also asked what you are worth personally.’

‘Haven’t you just told me?’

‘Well no; the company is technically an entity in itself. It has its own legal identity and...anyway, the gist of what I am saying is that you can draw on its available funds if you wish. Now regarding your personal wealth, after the paperwork and legal side of things are sorted out, you will be independently very wealthy. You know already that you have properties around the world, those are owned by you personally as is much of the island, the rest being estate property. The values of these properties soon to be in your name have been estimated to be in the region of seventy million pounds. You have, as of Friday’s bank balances in your various accounts, funds totalling fifty-two million, seven hundred and twenty seven pounds and thirty-two pence, give or take a hundred thou and a similar amount in bonds and shares. Of course, deductions have been made already to account for death and other duties, so you can see that you won’t have to worry where the next meal comes from...My Lady are you all right?’

I didn’t think that I was all right, because at that moment, I fainted.

---

 
To Be Continued?

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