Cherringham--The Secret of Combe Castle

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Authors: Neil Richards
cash.”
    “Damn right there!” said Pelham. “Now you see how my land goes down to the river?”
    Jack looked to his left: the fence ran all the way down to the Thames, just visible in the valley. He nodded.“Well — so does the FitzHenry land. But here’s the rub. On the other side of their land is the other half of my land. Five thousand acres.”
    “Ah,” said Jack, realising. “Your land’s split — and let me guess … you have no right of way through?”
    “Exactly. Every bloody time I want to get to those five thousand acres, I have to go up the hill two miles to the main road — then drive another three miles before I hit my land again.”
    “And that’s deliberate, huh?”
    “Oh yes. Seven hundred years ago the feeble King of England stole that land from my family and gave it to the FitzHenrys.”
    “Why?”
    “To reward them for some craven act of loyalty — and to punish us Pelhams for daring to stand up for our rights.”
    “But over the years, surely you could have bought some kind of right of way?”
    “Ha — from the FitzHenrys? Some hope! Not only penniless, they’re filled with stupid pride! For seven hundred years we’ve begged on bended knee for a road, a track — a footpath even to link the farms. But they’re selfish bastards the FitzHenrys, ‘our historic land’ they’d say … and they’ve turned us down every time. For centuries!”
    “Okay. I can see why you don’t want to help them,” said Jack. “And I guess you know nothing about the vandalism at the castle?”
    “If you find out who did it, let me know,” said Pelham. “I’ll buy ’em a drink.” The man laughed. “Maybe a full on dinner!” More laughs … then:
    “But no. Haven’t a clue, as they say.”
    “You know the castle and the estate might be up for sale?”
    “I’ve heard rumours.”
    “You’d be in the market to buy?”
    “Oh yes. In a heartbeat.”
    “But you wouldn’t try and force them out if they didn’t sell?”
    “Don’t believe that’s legal, Brennan …”
    “So you haven’t tried to?”
    Another laugh. “You have ears, don’t you? No! And if I had, would I tell you?”
    “Guess you wouldn’t.”
    Jack watched him carefully. He doubted that this straight-forward farmer would resort to anything like notes and painted warnings. But on the other hand … you wouldn’t want Pelham as your enemy. There was a coldness about him. Steel.
    “I need to get back to the milking,” said the farmer. “Can’t waste my time yakking out here.”
    Jack followed him back to the pickup and they both climbed in.
    Pelham fired up the engine, then turned it around in a big arc across the muddy field, and they headed back to the farm.
    By the time Pelham dropped Jack off, the sun had set.
    Jack climbed into his Sprite and drove back through the dark roads to Cherringham thinking about history, and the long shadow it could sometimes cast.

11. The Hidden Legacy
    Sarah was knee-deep in learning all she could about the FitzHenrys’ past and present.
    When she’d got back to the office, things were still quiet, with Grace handling the job of creating the over-sized one-sheets for the upcoming pantomime.
    “Sarah — what do you think?”
    Sarah turned to see Grace holding an A4-sized version of what would be a giant poster — for the event.
    “Let me see …”
    Grace handed the sheet over. She had deftly taken all the elements of the original flyer and turned it into an even more garish explosion of colour, and added additional characters from the pantomime.
    Sarah laughed. “They really have that lot playing the seven dwarves?”
    “Indeed they do,” Grace said, “Found them online.”
    “They look like they’ve been caught in a police line-up. And that Maid Marian. Isn’t she … or is it he …?”
    “Yes! Burt Freelove!”
    “Didn’t even know he was still alive.”
    “Alive — and apparently kicking.”
    “He makes a rather fetching maid, I must say, though the five

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