AN UNEXPECTED REUNION
‘His face looks familiar but I wish I could remember his name.’
‘Why don’t you go over and say hello Dad. You’ll probably remember who he is from his voice.’
Philip and his ten year old son William were queuing for the train home from the small station at Falmington, overlooking the South Downs. They’d been watching the cup game between their favourite team, Brightchester Wanderers, and bitter south coast rivals, Southlands United.
It was a pulsating match. The visiting supporters sang passionately, which had created a wonderful atmosphere in the compact stadium.
To father and son’s delight, Brightchester scraped home in the last seconds of injury time. Their veteran centre forward somehow summoned up the energy to leap high above the Southlands’ defenders to head the winning goal.
A few dirty looks were cast in their direction as they tried to force their way through the bustling crowd to speak to the man who Philip thought looked familiar. With all the disruption they’d caused, he was hoping it wouldn’t turn out to be a case of mistaken identity. That would’ve been just plain embarrassing.
He needn’t have worried. The man, who was proudly wearing the red and white shirt of Southlands United, with a large number nine and the word ‘Shannon’ on the back, suddenly became aware of the commotion. He turned to see a man and a young boy staring at him. From the look on his face, it was obvious he’d recognised his old friend.
‘Philip it’s you, it’s been such a long time, so good to see you and this must be your son. You were lucky to win today but at least it was a good match.’
As soon as the man opened his mouth, Philip recognised the broad Scots accent. How could he ever forget that distinctive voice? Many years earlier this older man had changed his life forever.
He owed him everything but, to his deep regret, the proud kilt wearing Scotsman Hamish McFargash had suddenly disappeared without even saying goodbye. Philip still didn’t know why, and it had constantly played on his mind. At least he could now see for himself that his old friend and mentor was alive and well. This chance meeting would perhaps create an opportunity to find out what had happened all those years ago.
Standing in the middle of a large crowd was not an ideal situation for a chat, but they did at least manage to exchange mobile phone numbers. As they parted for their respective trains, Philip promised to get in touch. There was so much for them to catch up on.
***
FIFTEEN YEARS EARLIER
‘Good luck with your first day at work Phil.’
‘Thanks Mum, I’m not sure what to expect. The job title ‘General Assistant’ isn’t exactly very informative! I’m just grateful to your distinguished Scottish pal for offering me the opportunity.’
‘Hamish has been a good family friend for a long time. He likes you and was keen to help.’
‘Well it’s interesting that you have such upper class friends. How did you first meet?’
‘It was something to do with Dad’s work. I think he had a business deal going with Hamish and they became friends as a result of that.’
‘What was that all about Mum?’ asked Phil, unable to contain his curiosity.
‘I’m not too sure. Dad hardly spoke about his work. I got the impression though that he was supplying certain goods to Hamish’s vast estate, but I’ve no idea what.’
‘Do you know much about its history?’
‘Yes, a bit. Wittlethorpe House and Gardens have been owned by the McFargash family for nearly three hundred years.’
‘How come?’
‘Well, Hamish’s five times great grandfather, Lord Alexander McFargash, was a prominent Member of Parliament during the reign of Queen Anne in the early eighteenth century. He found favour with the monarchy and, as a result, was granted the ownership of Glenfries Castle in Perthshire by royal decree. This became the seat of the McFargash clan. Lord Alexander subsequently acquired Frandon House in Cheshire, and Wittlethorpe, here in Sussex.’
‘So does the family still own the other two properties?’
‘No. Glenfries Castle and Frandon House became too expensive to manage and so they were bequeathed to the National Trust in the early years of the twentieth century. Wittlethorpe is a ten bedroom house, with four hundred acres of parkland, and so was kept as the main family home.’
‘Why do they allow the public to look around their house?’
‘Good question, it’s Tuesdays and Wednesdays by appointment only, apparently the minimum requirement for registration as a charity.’
‘When did Hamish take it over?’
‘Your dad told me that he inherited it five years ago.’
‘That’s interesting. Talking of Dad, it’s hard to believe it’s a year since he died. I still miss him so much.’
‘Yes I know but I’m sure he’d be proud of you achieving such good ‘A’ level results, receiving your offer from Cambridge University, and now getting this job to earn money for your gap year.’
‘What do you think I’ll be doing at Wittlethorpe?’
‘Knowing Hamish it could be all sorts of things, helping with the upkeep of the grounds, welcoming visitors, jobs around the house, maybe even paperwork or helping out when he throws one of his lavish parties in the banqueting hall.’
***
A MONTH AFTER THE CHANCE MEETING OUTSIDE THE FOOTBALL GROUND
‘Hello Hamish, glad you could make it, how are you?’
The long lost friends had arranged to meet at one of Phil’s favourite country pubs, The Haymakers Retreat, in the quaint Sussex village of Monk’s Green.
‘I’m fine thanks Phil, what a nice surprise it was to bump into you after all this time. What’ve you been doing with yourself?’
‘So much has happened since I last saw you, at the Wittlethorpe staff Christmas party nine years ago. What exactly happened that night? Things must’ve been bad for you to disappear so suddenly. We were all so worried.’
‘I’ll tell you later Phil, it’s a long story. Tell me about you first.’
‘Things have gone well, and I’ll be eternally grateful for the start you gave me in life, such a good grounding in estate management in the first six months of my gap year before I went on my travels. Then after I finished at Cambridge, it was great that you took me on as a trainee and, after only a year, appointed me as Estate Manager.’
‘Well you earned it Phil, and your First at Cambridge, and then the MBA, certainly helped. You really turned things round at Wittlethorpe with all your innovations such as the annual pop festival, the open air evening concerts, and the wedding venue.’
A worried look then came over the Scotsman’s face.
‘It was the least I could do after what happened.’
Phil looked shocked. ‘What exactly do you mean by that Hamish?’
‘Well it never came out at the inquest but, even though it was probably a complete accident, I’ve always felt partly responsible for your father’s death. I felt I owed it to the family to take you on. I could never have anticipated you taking to the work so well though. Your elevation to Estate Manager, after only a year, was purely on merit.’
‘Do you want to talk about what happened? The official version was that Dad fell off a ladder while replacing some of the guttering.’
‘Well there were things going on with your Dad and I, Phil, that I’ve never spoken about before. It all eventually caught up with me too. On that fateful day nine years ago, I had no choice but to make myself scarce.’
‘Are you prepared to tell me about it now?’
‘All I’ll say is that the costs of running the estate started to overwhelm me, and your father and I were involved in a business arrangement that went badly wrong for both of us. There’s a strong suspicion that someone was hounding him for money at the time of his fatal fall.’
‘Well it’s unthinkable that something untoward could have happened, I’d prefer to think of it as an accident. After you disappeared, though, I didn’t feel I could work at Wittlethorpe any longer. I was fortunate to be offered an even bigger job running the Duke of Wintershire’s huge estate in Hampshire.’
‘Anyway that’s enough about me. What’s happening in your life at the moment?’
‘Well, as you know, my son has been doing a great job at Wittlethorpe, recovering the situation after I disappeared. I live in a small isolated cottage, overlooking the South Downs, and so hardly see anyone. There are still people out there who I need to avoid. I couldn’t resist coming to the south coast derby last month though, even though I knew it was risky.’
‘Don’t worry Hamish, your secret is safe with me,’ said Phil, as the waitress delivered the huge platefuls of food they’d ordered. A beaming smile lit up his face.
‘What’s more, as well as launching my career, I wouldn’t have met my wife but for that job. I really do owe you everything!!’
THE END