LADY ANN'S FOLLY: Chapter Twelve - Part Twelve

After her chastising chat with Richard’s mother, Lillian, Mavis had spent much of the rest of the day exploring the grand old house, Crackshaw, where she hoped to spend the rest of her life.

After their interview, Lillian had dismissed her rudely and Richard, when she found him, had made it clear that he was busy catching up with his business.

The house was even vaster than Mavis’s first impression had supposed. It had two great inner courtyards joined by two archways and several wings leading off from that principle figure-eight pattern. In her wanderings, it became clear to Mavis, that it might take days, or even weeks, to fully appreciate the scale of the place.

She found a library with thousands upon thousands of books with walkways going round the walls on two levels reaching fully three storeys up. At each level there was a little bridge across the centre of the room from one side to the other with spiral stairs at each corner leading up. There was a grand banquet hall with a vast table filling its length and great windows that let the light stream in. There was a chapel within the building that was far larger than Griply church and far more lavishly decorated. There was dining room after dining room, each meant, surely, for subtly different purposes, and an equal number of living rooms.

And all over the house were little servant doors, leading to narrow corridors and screw stairs through which the servants could scurry to do their master’s bidding.

The grounds were equally extensive. Mavis viewed them first from the windows of various rooms and later by actually walking out. She found lavish flowerbeds and an incredible topiary garden. She found fountain after fountain, the largest one of which was built around statues of mighty charging horses. She found an extensive maze that she was afraid to enter for fear of getting lost. There was a croquet lawn and more than one children’s play house. There were stables containing more horses than Burt would ever see in his life, let alone be able to shovel the shit up for.

It was a grander house than Mavis, in her small life and background, had ever heard over. It was grander than she could ever have imagined.

But she had come to understand now that her dream of owning this place was not as straightforward as she had initially thought. At a glance, this life she was busy stealing appeared to be a fairy tale happy ending, but Richard’s ambivalence and obsession with work and his mother’s controlling nature dominated the truth of it. Added to that there was the threat of the real Ann trying to reclaim her body.

That happy ending wasn’t secure but Mavis wanted it to be.

A life like this hadn’t even been on the table throughout her life. Yes, there were challenges now – yes, there were enemies in every direction – but Mavis could see past all that to the prize.

And what a prize!

If she could one day take control of this estate and the money behind it then she would be happy until the end of her days.

But Lillian was clearly not going to allow that to happen; not easily.

Mavis saw her more than once while she wandered the gardens, watching like a vulture from the windows of the house. When it came to their evening meal, Lillian watched her still.

The meal was an awful affair really with an overlong table and far too many servants in attendance. Lillian had sat at one end of the table and Richard the other. Mavis had been seated in the centre. Richard read through paper reports, engrossed, and Lillian only went on staring, eating sepulchrally. Her chilly gaze offered no welcome ; only open hostility.

Mavis kept her own gaze on her food as course after lavish course was brought out. If she did look in Lillian’s direction she gave her an open and friendly smile, refusing to allow herself to be cowed by the miserable old woman.

She had realised something as she walked round, thinking about her old life and the new one stretching out before her. She realised something now, feeling Lillian’s enmity washing over her.

This place was going to be hers; all of it; and Lillian was not going defeat her.