committee.”
“There’d have been bad feeling in the village about that…” She was playing straight man to him. Stooge. He knew and he didn’t mind.
“At first maybe. Then there he was in the Anchor, buying drinks all round. A donation to the cricket club to mend the pavilion roof. Another to the village school to buy a couple of computers. He had them eating out of his hand. And he got the sympathy vote for bringing up the little girl on his own. It was soon forgotten he was here under false pretences.”
“But not by you. You didn’t forget.”
Michael knew what she was doing. Making him feel clever. Special. But all the same he loved it. “I never took to him. He got himself elected onto the parish council. We didn’t see eye to eye.”
She let that go for the moment. “You must have had more reason to dislike him than that. He’d not be the first to pull a few strings to get a new house built. Not major league crime.”
“I made a few enquiries.”
“That’s the sort of thing I’d say. Maybe you should have been a detective.”
“I’d have been a good one,” he said seriously. “Not boasting, like.” Then they grinned at each other.
“What did you come up with, then?” She leaned forward so her elbows were resting on her broad knees.
The dress, which his Peg’d not have had in the house as a dish rag, was stretched between them.
Michael leaned back in his chair and half closed his eyes. All this he knew by heart. He’d just never had the chance to share it. “Mantel grew up locally, in Crill, the town up the coast. Father was a schoolmaster. Mother worked in the post office. A nice family by all accounts. But it was never enough for Mantel. He had expensive tastes, even when he was a lad. He was still at school when he started working for an elderly widow who lived close by a bit of gardening, odd jobs, shopping. A companion he called himself.”
“Kind.”
“Aye, you could call it that. When she died she left him all her money in her will.”
“She had no family?”
“A nephew in Surrey. He tried to contest it, but it seemed above board.”
“Mantel had her charmed, then?”
“Or scared her witless.”
They sat for a moment in silence. They could hear the ticking from the fat, round clock on the mantelpiece.
“That’s when he started investing in property. Still not twenty, and he bought a couple of terraced houses in the town. Let them out to students. Bought a few more. One of them burnt down. Probably faulty electrics, but no proof and he collected the insurance anyway. He was lucky no one was trapped inside. The college authorities weren’t happy, though, and by then he’d decided the students weren’t ideal tenants. Too lippy. Too ready to complain. They knew their rights. So, he started taking in families on housing benefit.”
“Lots of scope there for a scam. Especially when the benefit’s paid straight to the landlord.”
“Right. And if money was tight he’d offer his families a bit to tide them over.”
“Like I said,” Vera’s eyes were shining. He could see she was enjoying herself, ‘kind.”
“Not at the rate of interest he was charging.”
They stared at each other.
“I knew some of that,” she said at last. “I’d heard he was into benefit fraud, loans. Not for years of course. Now he’s a respectable businessman. Urban regeneration’s his thing. Working with the community. He has lunch every other week with the Prince of Wales. Almost a saint.” She paused for breath before continuing, “I never knew where he got his money in the first place. It must have taken a bit of digging around to get at that.”
“I’m a stubborn bugger. I don’t give up.”
“It must have been personal though. You must have started checking up on Mantel before he took up with your Jeanie.”
“I’d found out some of it before then. Took it more seriously later.”
“What made you start?”
“He challenged my authority in the village.
“There’d have been bad feeling in the village about that…” She was playing straight man to him. Stooge. He knew and he didn’t mind.
“At first maybe. Then there he was in the Anchor, buying drinks all round. A donation to the cricket club to mend the pavilion roof. Another to the village school to buy a couple of computers. He had them eating out of his hand. And he got the sympathy vote for bringing up the little girl on his own. It was soon forgotten he was here under false pretences.”
“But not by you. You didn’t forget.”
Michael knew what she was doing. Making him feel clever. Special. But all the same he loved it. “I never took to him. He got himself elected onto the parish council. We didn’t see eye to eye.”
She let that go for the moment. “You must have had more reason to dislike him than that. He’d not be the first to pull a few strings to get a new house built. Not major league crime.”
“I made a few enquiries.”
“That’s the sort of thing I’d say. Maybe you should have been a detective.”
“I’d have been a good one,” he said seriously. “Not boasting, like.” Then they grinned at each other.
“What did you come up with, then?” She leaned forward so her elbows were resting on her broad knees.
The dress, which his Peg’d not have had in the house as a dish rag, was stretched between them.
Michael leaned back in his chair and half closed his eyes. All this he knew by heart. He’d just never had the chance to share it. “Mantel grew up locally, in Crill, the town up the coast. Father was a schoolmaster. Mother worked in the post office. A nice family by all accounts. But it was never enough for Mantel. He had expensive tastes, even when he was a lad. He was still at school when he started working for an elderly widow who lived close by a bit of gardening, odd jobs, shopping. A companion he called himself.”
“Kind.”
“Aye, you could call it that. When she died she left him all her money in her will.”
“She had no family?”
“A nephew in Surrey. He tried to contest it, but it seemed above board.”
“Mantel had her charmed, then?”
“Or scared her witless.”
They sat for a moment in silence. They could hear the ticking from the fat, round clock on the mantelpiece.
“That’s when he started investing in property. Still not twenty, and he bought a couple of terraced houses in the town. Let them out to students. Bought a few more. One of them burnt down. Probably faulty electrics, but no proof and he collected the insurance anyway. He was lucky no one was trapped inside. The college authorities weren’t happy, though, and by then he’d decided the students weren’t ideal tenants. Too lippy. Too ready to complain. They knew their rights. So, he started taking in families on housing benefit.”
“Lots of scope there for a scam. Especially when the benefit’s paid straight to the landlord.”
“Right. And if money was tight he’d offer his families a bit to tide them over.”
“Like I said,” Vera’s eyes were shining. He could see she was enjoying herself, ‘kind.”
“Not at the rate of interest he was charging.”
They stared at each other.
“I knew some of that,” she said at last. “I’d heard he was into benefit fraud, loans. Not for years of course. Now he’s a respectable businessman. Urban regeneration’s his thing. Working with the community. He has lunch every other week with the Prince of Wales. Almost a saint.” She paused for breath before continuing, “I never knew where he got his money in the first place. It must have taken a bit of digging around to get at that.”
“I’m a stubborn bugger. I don’t give up.”
“It must have been personal though. You must have started checking up on Mantel before he took up with your Jeanie.”
“I’d found out some of it before then. Took it more seriously later.”
“What made you start?”
“He challenged my authority in the village.
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