A Winter’s Tale Read Online Free PDF

murdered in Japan.’
‘But Lucy is very sensible, Sophy. I’m sure she wouldn’t put herself at risk.’
‘Perhaps not, but if I did sell Winter’s End to Jack, she could come home and I would be able to pay off her student loan and buy a cottage somewhere. Then maybe we could start up a business together and—’
‘Don’t you do anything hasty,’ she warned me, ‘especially with this relative of yours. He doesn’t sound like any kind of angel to me, but he does sound the kind of clever, tricky, devious man you always seem to go for.’
‘I don’t know what you mean by “always”. I can count on one hand the number of men I’ve been out with since Rory left me,’ I said with dignity and some modesty, leaving one or two of my brief encounters with absolute no-hopers out of the reckoning. ‘And I can’t imagine what I’ve said to make you think that about Jack! He’s a really genuine, lovely person—and what’s more, he’s family . Anyway, I can’t do anything at all until the solicitor turns up. I’m still trying to take it all in, but I’m worried that Grandfather might have changed his will on impulse after arguing with Jack about spending too much on the garden, and then diedbefore he could change it back. It does seem unfair that he should leave the house to me. Anya—’
There was a plaintive bleeping. ‘Blow—my phone’s almost dead,’ she said, and was cut off.
My belated rescue turned out to be a very belt-and-braces affair, for next day the cavalry, in the sober and suited form of the family solicitor, turned up too.
You see, I knew good things were on the way. My second sight was just a bit dodgy about when .
Mr Hobbs said he had already written to tell me he was coming to see me today ‘on a matter to my advantage’, but of course I haven’t had the heart to go back to Spiggs Cottage and collect my mail since I left. The new owners are probably putting it straight into the skip, anyway.
Any more strange men visiting my caravan and, as far as the village is concerned, I might as well hang a red lamp over the door, even if this one looked so old and desiccated that strong winds could have blown him away. I’ve learned the hard way that a divorced woman is always seen as a sexual predator, after everyone else’s menfolk (which is why, I suppose, I haven’t made many friends here and hardly ever get asked to dinner parties).
But I invited Mr Hobbs in, and he was surprised to find I already knew of the legacy, until I told him about Jack’s visit and his offer to buy Winter’s End. Then, over tea and rather overdone rock cakes (the caravan stove is a bit temperamental), I asked him if he knew exactly why my grandfather hadn’t left the estate to Jack.
‘After all, he was the obvious heir, wasn’t he, even if they had had one or two disagreements? It does seem unfair.’
‘He had his reasons,’ he said cagily. I suppose it was only natural that he should side with my grandfather—they were of an age and had probably been friends. ‘Jack is the onlyson of his cousin Louisa, now deceased, and was born in New Zealand. When his father remarried he was sent back here to school, about a year after you and your mother left…and of course he spent the holidays at Winter’s End and looked on it as his home. He is divorced with no children—another disappointment to your grandfather—and has a house in London. You know he is a property developer?’
‘He did mention that. Presumably a successful one, if he could afford to buy me out?’
‘Yes indeed: one cannot say that he hasn’t risen by his own endeavours. His father purchased a small house for him to live in when he was at Oxford, and then later he renovated it and sold it at a profit and bought two more on the proceeds…and so it went on. I suppose his enterprise is quite remarkable. Nowadays he specialises in buying large period properties cheaply and converting them into extremely upmarket and expensive apartments,’ he