Almost All Lived Happily Ever After

I covered the mouthpiece.

"Sal, the farmhouse, the sauna, is the boss a Mrs Jones?"

"No, its a bloke. I think Mrs Jones died a year or two back."

I gave this information to my informant. He seemed interested.

I put the phone down. It rang immediately. It was the Bank. Please could we call in.

I rang work. "Something's come up, and I will be late in ... Any problems? ... Fine, see you later."

"Sal, the Bank wants us to speak to them. They were very mysterious. Could there be something wrong?"

All the way into town we discussed what it could be about. When we got there, the manager took us into a side office. He looked serious.

"Miss Foster"

Sal nodded.

"Do you know of a Mr O'Donnell, a Mr Patrick O'Donnell."

"He is my step-father."

"When did you last speak to him."

"Well never. Not since I left home."

"I am afraid that I have some bad news for you. Your step-father died some time ago."

Sal said nothing for a few moments.

"I'm sorry if I do not seem too distressed by this, but he and I did not... He kicked me out you see."

"That's strange. He seems to have been quite generous."

"How do you mean."

He took Sal's bank book from a folder on his desk. Attached to it by an elastic band was a new bank book in the current name of the bank. He opened the new book, and passed it over to Sal, who took one look and dropped the book onto the table. She picked it up and passed it to me. It indicated a credit of almost a hundred thousand pounds.

"But how? Why?"

He handed over a letter. "This was left with the bank with instructions to hand it to you as soon as possible."

The envelope was white, but somewhat yellowed. The manager passed Sal a paperknife. She slit it open and took out a couple of folded sheets. She started to read. She got halfway down the first page when she started to sob. She thrust the letter towards me. I read it.

'Darling Sally,'

'This has been a very difficult letter to write. I am so very sorry about the way that I treated you. I was very wrong, and I now wish so much that I had believed you.'

'I got a letter from your old headmaster a few days ago. It told me that they now realise that they should never have asked you to leave school. They have discovered that Mr Grover, the maths master, had been behaving inappropriately for many years. You were the first pupil brave enough to speak out. Sally, I am very proud of you.'

'I do not know where you are. I know that you had a little money in the Bank. I hope that, if you make a withdrawal, they can give this letter to you.'

I looked at the date on the letter. I picked up the older bank book and compared it with the date of the last withdrawal. The letter was written only a couple of months after the withdrawal.

I continued reading.

'Things cannot be easy for you, Sally, and I am not too well off. I promise that I will deposit whatever money I can afford in to your account whenever I can.'

I scanned through the new bank book. He had been as good as his word. There were small and large sums there. Some were tens of pounds. Some were hundreds. There were a couple in the thousands, and one very large deposit. They had stopped a couple of years ago.

'Dear Sally. I can quite understand that money cannot compensate for us not believing you. You will probably not want anything to do with me in the future. If you feel that you can. Please come home Sally.'

'Yours,'

'Paddy'

I looked at the address on the letter. Sally had mentioned that she'd come from that town.

The manager had brought Sal a cup of water, and was feeding her with paper tissues. He had another envelope placed on top of the folder. This was newer, and the address had been typed. He tried to pass it to Sal, but she indicated that he pass it to me.

'Dear Ms. Sally Foster,'

'Following the death of your Step-Father, Mr Patrick O'Donnell, we would very much like to contact you. If you receive this letter please contact...'

What followed was a member of a Firm of Solicitors.

You can guess the rest. Sal received half the proceeds of the sale of her step-fathers estate, sharing it with Ann, her step sister. She has started a Maths course at the local college, and is enjoying it.

I often take pies, cakes or biscuits (cookies(US)) in to work for my staff (and I often leave some at the farmhouse.)

Mary and Helga enjoy their work.

Almost everyone is happy.

Almost!

A Mr Jones is very put out.

Firstly, he has received final demands for the back rent of a farmhouse. It had, as a condition of the sale of the farm, been let back to the Farmer and his wife at a peppercorn rent, for their lifetimes. After their deaths, a commercial rent was to be charged. Our Mr Jones was the son of the Farmer and his wife. His rental has been terminated, but he was still being held responsible for the dilapidation and for all the necessary repairs. The rental of the farmhouse was now taken on by two ladies known as Mary and Helga. Their rent was minimal. It was let on the same preferential basis as my offices.

Secondly, he was up in Court for illegal practices, failure to comply with safety and other regulations, and extortion related to the letting of sub-standard housing.

Lastly, walking was difficult, and he was no longer going to receive free sexual favours from Helga. The last time he claimed them, his favoured bondage and spanking session had turned into something else, as Mary joined Helga in subjecting him to more punishment than he could conceivably have wanted. He would probably be incapable of conceiving anything until the swelling and scars had abated.