Tales From Mist WorldChapter 3 Salvage and other dirty words
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The Mist Of Time Ch. 09-10 free porn video
CHAPTER NINE
I attended the first auction. It was interesting looking around the room, I recognised some of the bidders and acknowledged them with a nod. I also recognised new faces. It was quite easy to tell who was new in the business. They had that eager look, constantly consulting the list of properties and when the bidding started flourishing their bidding number ostentatiously as if they would be overlooked by the auctioneer. I hung back, watching, who was bidding and how quickly the bids mounted. When I did enter the bidding for a property I watched to see who was bidding against me and how determined they were. When the signs were right I would stay in, when I saw someone who would go to the wire to get a property I dropped out. I was there to buy cheaply. I left the auction without buying, I just wasn’t hungry enough to go to the lengths others would venture to obtain any of these properties. Perhaps the experience was telling me that it was time to dive in another pool.
I didn’t go up to Chetford for three weeks, although Tina kept me up to date on what was going on. She would come to the office late on those Monday mornings, tired but happy. I advised her to let Aleksy get some sleep. ‘If my builder is so tired out perhaps he will not do a good job for me.’
‘Huh!’ She shot back at me. ‘Tell Aleksy. It is he who stops me getting sleep most of the night.’ She went off to make some coffee.
‘Make it strong.’ I yelled at her back as she left my office. She ignored me.
When she came back with the coffee I handed her a letter from the estate agency. It acknowledged my ownership of the Chetford estate and attached was a cheque for rent payable for the time I had owned the estate. I let Tina work it out and watched as her face became first puzzled and then darkened with anger. ‘What’s going on here?’ She asked rhetorically. She picked up my calculator and tapped in a couple of figures. ‘This is crap! They have sent us a cheque for the five weeks you have owned the estate. That should be eleven thousand, seven hundred and sixty nine pounds. Their cheque is for four thousand three hundred and eighty pounds. She picked up the statement giving the breakdown. There was a deduction of fifteen percent for management fees, then another deduction for management contract exchange, whatever that was, and then a deduction for essential drainage work. I had noted these already but waited for Tina to come to her own conclusion. It was as I expected. ‘Bastards!’ She blurted. ‘They are stiffing us.’ She looked at me. ‘What are you going to do?’
‘I have spoken to Brian and his statement for the period carries the same deductions.’ I told her. ‘He is sending me a copy of his statement and I want to know where the drainage work was required. The land registry plan shows the outline of the fields but I need to know who rents what fields. Then I will be then calling on these people.’
‘Can I come too?’
‘Not really necessary.’
‘Spoilsport.’ Tina did love a good fight. She then revealed some further research she had undertaken. ‘Mr. Morestead had owned the estate for six years. He bought it at an auction of assets of an old lady, a Maude Tiverton who died intestate. She had owned Chetford for eighteen years having inherited it from an uncle, who I believe had bought it from the Ministry of Defence. She lived in Harrogate.’ She looked triumphant. ‘That explains a lot. When I was in the pub I asked around and nobody knew who owned the estate. Even those farmers who were renting land didn’t know. It appears that Huddingtons, the estate agency always said that the land was in trust.
I emailed the estate agency asking for the rented land records, and the location where the drainage work had been needed. I didn’t expect an immediate reply. If my suspicions were correct I was sure they would need some time to come up with a believable answer. I decided to go up to Chetford on Thursday. I needed to look around more thoroughly so I hired a Land-Rover Defender for the trip. I didn’t want to drive across fields in my Passat.
I had no reply from the estate agent by Wednesday. The next day I started off in the Defender. Despite the diesel engine, which I had always thought would be sluggish the engine pulled well and I had no problem on the motorway in keeping a steady seventy-eight miles per hour. I had left at eight-thirty and pulled into the Dower House at ten past ten. I couldn’t see any of Aleksy’s labourers although I could hear their endeavours and their voices. I couldn’t understand what were saying, they appeared to be conversing in Polish. Nonetheless they seemed to be in good heart judging by the laughter that intermingled with their chat. There were two caravans parked side by side to the east of the house and nearby to them was the smouldering remnant of a fire. Aleksy came out of the front door with a worried look on his face until he realised it was me who had driven in. ‘Boss. Come to see what’s going on?’
‘Not really, Aleksy. I wanted to get around the estate and see what I have got here.’
His face cleared. ‘Right transport for that.’ He indicated the Defender.
Before we could get into that we were interrupted by the arrival of a John Deere tractor. The driver stopped and switched off the engine, then climbed down from the cab. He approached us. ‘Have you permission to be here?’ His attitude was somewhat truculent.
I held out my hand to shake. ‘I am Daniel Chandler. I recently bought Chetford. You are?’
‘Reggie Somers. I farm sixty acres over yonder.’ He waved his hand in the general direction of Braintree although he could have meant almost anywhere. ‘Wondered what was going on. Seem to get Tinkers and the like around, trying to nick anything valuable. Mind, there isn’t anything worth taking in there anymore. We’ve had all sorts around over the years, anything worth anything has gone.’ He paused. ‘Goin’ to knock it down then?’
‘No. Aleksy and his crew are going to restore the house as it was.’
‘Bloody hell. That’s going to take a bit. You goin’ to live here, then?’
‘Probably.’
‘It’ll be a good place to live.’ He looked around the frontage. ‘What yer goin’ to do with this front?’
‘Apart from clearing all the gorse and bramble, I haven’t thought too much about that.’
‘I’ll come over tomorrow. Got an attachment for the back of the tractor. It’ll go down about three feet and pull the stuff up from the roots.’
‘That’s kind of you.’
‘No problem. You’ll need that hedge layered as well. I’ll do you a good deal if you’re interested.’ He was referring to the hedge between the property and the lane.
‘What’s a good deal on that?’
‘Let’s say fifty quid a yard.’
‘No, let’s not say that.’
He grinned. ‘Ok forty a yard.’
‘I like thirty.’
‘Thirty-five?’ He asked
‘Deal.’ He spat into his palm and offered me the hand to shake. I did the same and we shook. This was an old way of sealing a deal. The deal was done, he wouldn’t back out of it and neither would I. ‘When can you do it?’ I asked.
‘Oh. Not until September.’
‘Not before?’
‘No. Can’t do it until the birds have finished sitting on their nests. It’s going to be a good summer, they will be raising two clutches this year.’
I was a city boy, raised in North London and working in East London. Sparrows and pigeons were all we knew of birds and for the most part they were a problem. Now I came face to face with the country where birds had a place and their habitat was respected. On the spur of the moment I asked him if he would undertake drainage work as well.
He looked perplexed. ‘I would be surprised if any of this land needed drainage. The soil here is a marl with gravel mixed in, then there’s chalk underneath. I’ve never heard of any with drainage problems. The Chet can rise a bit in winter and flood some of the bottom land, but it recedes very quickly. Why do you ask?
‘Oh no reason. I thought someone mentioned the need for drainage.’
‘Probably some London bloke.’ He ruminated disparagingly. Then stopped in embarrassment. ‘Sorry, Mr. Chandler. Not talking about you.’
I grinned. ‘Don’t worry Mr. Somers. Sometimes we need to learn.’
That was interesting. I knew little about field drainage except that it involved laying pipes deep into the soil. It was probable that there would be little evidence of the work having been done as the surface was returned to natural. Slim chance of an amateur finding out that the work had not been done. I had more reason now to discover where this supposed drainage work had been done.
Aleksy had stood by as I had the conversation with Reggie Somers and after the John Deere had pulled out he asked if I wanted to see the progress. ‘You want to see inside, Boss?’
‘Not at the moment, Aleksy. I’ll be back later, perhaps I’ll look around then.’
‘O.k. Boss.’
The Defender was the ideal vehicle for the expedition I planned. It tackled most obstacles without problem and it had four wheel drive for the more difficult stretches. I had the land registry plan with me that delineated the field boundaries and the acreage enclosed. I could probably see what land was rented. I drove round the hillock upon which the old house had been built. I was surprised that all this land which was good land was set aside for pasture, and then chastened myself. The Chandlers would not have wanted their vista despoiled with agricultural endeavour. The boundaries as such were marked by hedgerows of hawthorn and beech. There weren’t gates on all the fields, just an open passage with the stout timbers that would have secured the gate either side. It was easy for me to drive through. By happy chance I spotted the horse and rider. I stopped and waited and of course the rider changed her path to draw close. I turned off the engine and got out of the Defender so she could see who it was. I was smiling as she rode up and it was good to see that she was smiling also. ‘No, no, no. Daniel. You can’t cheat with that Land-Rover. You really should get a horse.’
‘Perhaps one day, Annabel, when I am living here. But until that time comes I am afraid I shall have to stick with internal combustion.’
‘You are going to live here?’
‘Yes. I have decided that the Dower House will be the perfect place for me to live and run my business also.’
‘I have seen the men working there. I thought you were going to sell it, or rent it.’
‘That was my intention, but on reflection I decided that it would be the right place for me to live. The guys are clearing it out, and then they will be restoring the house to its imperious past.’
‘Wow! Does that also include the bits of the past that are rumoured with blushes?’
‘If you are referring to the supposed sleazy past, then the answer is no. I may be a Chandler but I don’t have the morals of Dashwood Chandler.’
‘Oh shame! People around here do like to gossip. Mind you, gossip has already started. The long-lost scion of the Chandlers coming back to restore the family estates. Now that is fuel for conjecture.’
‘Well actually I am not really the scion of the Chandlers. My great grandfather was from the wrong side of the blankets.’
‘Yes, you mentioned that. I thinks we had some as well.’
‘I think from what I have found out that there were many scandals in the Chandler family. I didn’t think the Swinson family had those as well.’
‘Perhaps one or two. When you have finished your house, will you hold a grand reception? That’s what they used to do.’
‘No, I don’t go in for ‘grand’. Perhaps a dinner for my friends.’
‘Will I qualify as a friend?’
‘I would certainly hope so.’
Annabel smiled. ‘Thank you. I will be happy to be a friend.’
I moved to another topic. ‘Annabel. You seem to be around and about here frequently. Have you seen any work going on, like drainage?’
‘None at all. I ride most days and vary my ride, so I see most of the land around here quite often. If drainage work was going on I am sure I would have seen it. Why do you ask?’
‘The agents who deal with the rented land have charged me with drainage work.’
‘Don’t tell me. Huddingtons.’ She stated flatly.
‘How did you guess?’
‘I could not swear to it, but I overheard my father once saying that he wouldn’t be surprised if they slip something like that in from time to time. You can’t prove it without digging up a field, or doing a ground x ray, and if it is growing grain or root crops you can’t do that.’
‘Thank you for that information. Perhaps when I give this dinner you should be the hostess, as I would be without otherwise, and I would need someone to guide me through the niceties of formal dining.’
‘What makes you think that I could do that?’
‘I just have this impression that you could rise to any occasion.’
Annabel laughed and twitched the reins. As the horse started away she turned her head. Her eyes showed her mischievous side. ‘Can you?’ She laughed and cantered away.
I laughed too. It was one of those quips that had to be said. My words were not intended to be flirtatious yet Annabel had quickly taken the unintended double-entendre and replied to the other meaning of the words. I was still smiling as I got back into the Discovery when another thought crossed my mind. Annabel must feel quite comfortable with me to introduce that element of flirting.
It took me the rest of the morning and well into the afternoon to survey my property. My conclusion was that the information we had was generally correct. However I did have some reservations as it would seem that there may be more land in use than the one hundred and twenty acres that Tina had discovered. The land registry plan showed the field boundaries and noted the acreage of each field. From my observation the acreage in use came to more than one hundred and twenty acres, actually nearer to one hundred and forty acres. I accepted that my survey could not be completely accurate, but I doubted that my discrepancy would be more than four or five acres.
CHAPTER TEN
On my way back I stopped near the old house. I had no reason just a whim to stand where my great–grandfather had perhaps stood. As I wandered I inadvertently kicked one of the granite setts which had come loose from its seating. I looked for more and found many more, some set in place but most laying haphazardly here and there. An idea came to my mind and I sought the area where the courtyard gave way to the drive up from the main gate. I was right. The drive and its route were indicated by the lesser growth of grass. I kicked the grass away and underneath lay the granite setts. If the drive was paved with these setts there would certainly be sufficient to create a paved area in front of the Dower House. I picked up one of the setts and took it with me as I drove back.
Aleksy came out to meet me when I stopped. ‘Want to look around, Boss?’
‘No not now, Aleksy.’ I showed him the set. ‘What would you think about using something like this for a forecourt?’
He looked closely and seemed impressed. ‘It’s the real thing not a cast replica. Cost a fortune these days. But one won’t do it. Could be more?’
‘Come with me.’ We walked to the back of the house and I had him look in the direction of the old house’s main gate. We could just see the top of the ornamental pillars. ‘There is a carriageway all the way from those gates to where the old house stood up there on the mound. I think the carriageway is paved with these setts all the way. Then there is a forecourt which is also paved with them. I reckon there are more than enough to make a good forecourt here.’
‘I go look tomorrow, Boss. If you are right then I am sure there will be enough. It make good forecourt.’
Tina was bubbling when I came down to the office the next day. She had put the post on
my desk and right on the top was a letter from Huddingtons. I read it and had to laugh. Tina came in with a mug of coffee for me. ‘Isn’t it strange that these things get discovered when you ask a simple question.’ She grinned.
I nodded in agreement. ‘It gets better.’ I told her. The letter from Huddingtons was brief, polite and contrite. They were so sorry that an amount for drainage and the management contract exchange fee had inadvertently been posted to my account. Please find enclosed a cheque for those amounts. It went on that a change of business policy meant they would no longer be able to handle the estate business in future and herewith give three months notice. They mentioned other estate agents who could handle the business for me.
‘Bugger!’ Tina spat the word as if it came from a machine gun. ‘They have swindled me out of the pleasure of having a stand up, knock down fight with them.’ She steamed with fury for a moment and then running out of steam asked. ‘What gets better?’
‘It would appear that there is a lot more acreage under plough than the one hundred and twenty acres supposedly rented. Now I want you to phone Huddingtons. I want you to be very polite and sweet and of course we accept with regret their notice of withdrawing from the agency. I want you to request of them the records of how many acres are rented and to whom, so we can look for another agency to handle the business.’
Tina put on a face of disappointment. ‘Do I have to be very polite and sweet?’
‘I would prefer it if you did.’
She stamped out of my office. ‘You don’t let me have any fun at all.’
I shouted after her. ‘Thanks for the coffee.’
‘I put strychnine in it!’ She shouted back.
Within a few minutes I could hear Tina on the phone. She had put her posh voice on and was, as I asked sweetness and light. The last part of her conversation was particularly sugary. ‘Oh that is so good of you. Yes, we do understand, mistakes happen. Thank you so much, you have been of great help.’ She came into my office looking as if she wanted to throw up. ‘If you ever ask me to do that again I will kill you.’
‘The coffee was very good.’ I told her then clutched my throat and rocked back in my chair screaming Agh! It burns.’ Tina just laughed.
‘What will you do about the acres being used but not being paid for?’
‘I think we should wait until we get a reply from Huddingtons. Then we will know who rents what.’
‘Then I can chase them uphill and down dale.’
‘Yes, Tracey. I can see you getting all East-End with them and creating mayhem. If I am going to live there, I would like it to be with neighbours who are friends.’ I waited for her response but none came. ‘Ok, Tina. What else in this pile do I have to pay attention to?’
‘Mr. Anders has written to say they will not complete for at least six months. He confirms the price you agreed, but the project has been put back for six months.’
‘Right. Well you can write in your best solicitor fashion and agree that the price will be held for six months. Any further delay and we will deem the contract null and void. If they still want the properties the price will have to be re-negotiated.’
‘Yes, Daniel. That’s more like it. Oh, I would love to be a fly on the wall when he reads that.’ I often wondered about Tina. She only seems to be happy when there is aggression in the air.
The delay gave me time to find properties I could offer to the displaced tenants of the houses Anders wanted to buy. That was good, the downside was that without his four million I would have to dig deep into my reserves to finance new property and the restoration of the Dower House. In one way I looked forward to Anders not completing in time as I would then re-negotiate a better deal.
Three days later we received the details from Huddingtons of the land rented and the names of the farmers. I smiled when I read that Reggie Somers rented forty acres. He had said that he farmed sixty so the majority of his farm consisted of my land. I compared Huddingtons land plan with the land registry plan that I had marked up. My smile was even wider. It would seem possible that Mr. Somers was using six acres of my land apart from the land he paid rent for. It was possible that others of the farmers were doing the same as the land under cultivation which was not detailed on Huddington’s plan was contiguous with land rented. Of course I couldn’t accuse them outright. Tina came in and quickly caught up the discrepancies. She smiled evilly. ‘What are you going to do, Daniel?’
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