Heaven is High

  HEAVEN IS HIGH

  Anne Hampson

  The new heir to the Manor of Marbeck had been found—an American from the Rocky Mountains!

  But it was, to say the least, unfortunate that when he arrived unexpectedly he found an uninvited guest, complete with string tie, high boots and Stetson hat, singing:

  “I’m an old cowhand ... Behold your new lord of the manor! Here I am, straight from those jolly ole Rockies...”

  CHAPTER I

  The lovely black and white mansion stood on a rise overlooking a lake and the ancient village church. It was the capital house of the Manor of Marbeck in Cheshire, and had been occupied by only five families since the days of the Normans.

  Its history was being recited to a group of interested visitors by Kathryn Ramsey who, when she had finished, smiled and inquired if anyone had any questions to ask.

  ‘I have.’ A tall, grey-haired man came forward out of the crowd, followed by his wife. It doesn’t concern anything you’ve been telling us, Miss Ramsey, but as you know, my wife and I come often to the Hall. It’s just a nice afternoon’s run for us—and we’re naturally anxious to know whether we’ll still be able to come when the new owner takes over.’ He glanced around. ‘I expect there are others who come here regularly and would like to know whether the house is still going to be open to the public.’

  Kathryn was shaking her head. She explained that she knew no more than they. All she did know was that an heir had been found, an American, who might like to live here but, on the other hand, he might prefer to sell the property and return to his home in the United States.

  ‘If he does decide to stay there’s no certainty that he’ll keep it open, is there? He might want to keep it private.’

  ‘Can’t afford to these days,’ someone called out from the back. ‘Poor as can be, these gentry; taxed so as they can’t scarcely live. All stately homes are open to the public, and I think whoever comes here will carry on just as usual.’

  ‘I hope so,’ another voice said, and several others echoed the same wish.

  ‘I’ve been coming ever since it opened, six years ago.’

  And she had been here that long, Kathryn mused a few minutes later when the visitors had drifted out to wander over the lovely grounds. She was seventeen when, on answering the advertisement, she had been interviewed by the rather ferocious-looking lord of the manor. Mr. Southon was considering opening Marbeck Hall to the public, and Kathryn had known instantly that though the money might be an inducement, Mr. Southon’s chief desire was for this ancient and historical house to be open to all who cared to come and enjoy its beauty. He had asked Kathryn numerous questions, and so great was her knowledge of the history of Cheshire that he had declared that she knew more about his house than he! Promptly he had engaged her as guide, but almost from the first she had been given the duties of secretary to Mr. Southon. Then more and more responsibility had been placed upon her as her employer’s health began to fail until, in the end, she was practically running the place for him. Six months ago he had died and Kathryn was still waiting to see how this would affect her own position.

  At first it was thought that no heir existed, but a thorough examination of some ancient papers had brought to light the fact that one of Mr. Southon’s ancestors had emigrated to America and now an heir had been traced.

  Many were the times Kathryn had speculated on this man’s character and appearance. The newspapers had given a graphic picture of a weather-beaten uncouth cowhand who would be so like a fish out of water in the lovely manor house that he would immediately sell out and return to his own country.

  Well, thought Kathryn, she wouldn’t have long to wait now, for she had heard from the solicitor that Mr. John Hyland would be arriving in England in just over three weeks’ time.

  When at last the visitors had gone Kathryn went round closing all the windows in that part of the house which was on view to the public. A young student, one of a group who came at the week-ends to help, entered the Green Room and began to assist her.

  ‘Have the others gone?’ she asked in surprise. ‘I haven’t paid them.’

  ‘They were in a hurry—going to a party, and said they’d get their money tomorrow.’

  ‘Brian doesn’t come on Sundays—but I expect one of the others will take it for him.’

  ‘I think it’s all safe now, Miss Ramsey,’ he said ten minutes later. ‘I’ve been upstairs.’

  ‘Thank you, Paul. Oh, I’ve an idea there’s one open in the Chapel; I’ll go and see to it.’

  ‘I’ve done that,’ he smiled, moving to the door. Goodbye, Miss Ramsey, I’ll see you tomorrow.’ Despite the young man’s assurance Kathryn went upstairs and examined all the windows. Then, satisfied, she went through the Gallery leading to the private part of the house and into the large but cosily-furnished sitting-room. Her two sisters were there, with several of their young friends. Dawn was sprawled out on the rug in front of the empty fireplace; Rita was on the couch with her boy-friend, and Phil, one of Dawn’s boy-friends, was over in the corner by the record player.

  ‘What shall we have now?’ he was saying, a record in his hand.

  ‘Nothing, please, Phil,’ Kathryn put in. ‘I want a little peace.’ She came into the room, closed the door behind her and added, ‘By the way, don’t have it so loud in future. It can be heard in the Library.’

  ‘So what?’ Rita said pertly. ‘It’s nice music.’

  ‘That’s a matter of opinion,’ Kathryn returned smoothly, and then, ‘I could do with a cup of tea. Is anybody making one?’

  ‘I will,’ Dawn offered, jumping up. ‘Phil, come and help me, there’s a pet.’

  A moment later Kathryn followed her sister into the kitchen.

  ‘Will you leave us, Phil? I have something to say to Dawn.’

  ‘Of course.’

  Kathryn waited until the door closed after him, then she turned to regard Dawn severely, her grey eyes kindling with suppressed anger.

  ‘This can’t go on. Dawn. I allowed you and Rita to come here, but I’m not having these crowds in every evening and week-end. You seem to forget this is not my house. Have you thought what would happen were the new owner to come here now?’

  ‘Well, he won’t come here now. You’ve had definite word from the lawyers that he’s coming at the end of the month, so why the fuss? In any case, from what he seems to be like he’ll not have the courage to object.’

  Dawn was right there, Kathryn had to admit. If the papers’ description of him were correct he’d be too overawed to say much at all.

  ‘It must stop, nevertheless,’ Kathryn insisted firmly. ‘Don’t bring them here again.’

  A pout came to Dawn’s pretty lips and she glanced reproachfully at her sister.

  ‘But, Kate, it’s our home and we’ve got to have our friends. We go to theirs—’

  ‘It’s not your home,’ Kathryn flashed angrily. ‘How can you talk such nonsense?’

  ‘Well, you said we could stay here.’

  ‘Not indefinitely; only until you found another flat. But you’re not looking.’ She almost reminded her that she and Rita wouldn’t have been turned out of the flat they had if the rent had been paid regularly, but she refrained. ‘You’ll have to find somewhere, quickly. And when you do,’ she added warningly, ‘see that you pay your rent before you begin spending on clothes and all the other things you don’t need.’

  ‘Oh, Kate, stop preaching!’ Dawn snatched the tea caddy from the shelf and took off the lid. ‘You’re always at us. I suppose it’s because you’re so old.’

  This brought a faint smile to Kathryn’s lips. She had certainly felt old since that day when, rashly, she had consented to having her two young sisters staying at the Hall. Not only were
they living rent free, but neither had yet offered anything towards her board, and they had been here for almost four months.

  ‘I’ll tell you frankly, Dawn, I regret having allowed you to come in the first place. I certainly wouldn’t have done so had I known you’d stay as long as this.’

  ‘Don’t worry. If we don’t get somewhere before he comes we can always go back home.’

  ‘You’re optimistic,’ retorted Kathryn with a lift of her brows. ‘Why do you think Mum and Dad told you to be off in the first place? Because you were a nuisance, with all your rowdy friends—to say nothing of the way you were both forever borrowing from them.’ She shook her head. ‘No, they won’t have you, so you’d better begin looking at once.’

  ‘Oh, very well! But don’t keep on so. We’ll find somewhere.’

  ‘And in the meantime keep that crowd away.’

  Dawn’s eyes widened in dismay.

  ‘Rita’s party—her birthday; you can’t expect her to give everyone back word. Please, Kate, just this once?’

  ‘Very well, just this once.’ Kathryn gave a resigned little sigh and went back to the sitting-room.

  When she had finished her tea she went out, over to the clearing by one of the five lakes that were included in the beautiful grounds of the Hall. The grass was soft and springy beneath her feet and the evening sun was warm on her arms and legs. How she loved this place! A little pang of uncertainty took the pleasure out of her walk, for she was so afraid that the new owner would sell out and that someone would come who wouldn’t require her services. Or, should the new owner decide to stay, he might not want to open the house to the public; there was no real necessity for doing so, for not only was the estate prosperous, but Mr. Southon had left a considerable fortune.

  Seven caravans were spaced neatly along one side of the lake and as she reached the first one Kathryn smiled and stopped for a moment, chatting to the old couple sitting in their deck chairs on the grass.

  ‘How are you both? Everything all right?’

  ‘Fine, Miss Ramsey.’ The old woman returned her smile, but when she again spoke there was a hint of regret in her voice. ‘We shan’t want to be moving, dearie. It’s so lovely here.’

  ‘You’ll have to, though,’ Kathryn warned. ‘I believe the site will be ready for you in about a fortnight’s time.’

  ‘It won’t be as nice as this—’

  ‘Now, Mother, don’t you be ungrateful,’ her husband interposed severely. ‘Miss Ramsey’s been very good to let us all come. If she hadn’t, I don’t know where we’d have been when the site closed down so unexpectedly. We knew it was only until the new site is ready,’ he went on, wagging a finger at his wife. ‘We don’t want to be here when the new owner arrives—and get Miss Ramsey into trouble, now do we?’

  ‘Of course not, Will.’

  Kathryn moved on to the end caravan. Mrs.. Percival was eighty-two and all alone in the world. She had three major ailments including a very weak heart. Yet she had the spirit of an eighteen-year-old and would, she declared, never enter either a hospital or a home.

  ‘I want to be found here, in my van,’ she had told Kathryn on several occasions. ‘I’ll do for myself till the end. It’s hell getting up in the morning, with this arthritis, and having to rest now and then because of the old heart, but; I say, “Come on, Liz, up Guards an’ at ‘em!” and there you are, I’m on my feet.’

  She was sitting on the settee, watching the wrestling, and for a few moments Kathryn dared not speak.

  ‘Look—whoosh! That’s him finished. Down he goes ... out!’ Mrs.. Percival glanced quickly at Kathryn, smiled, then turned her attention to the television again.

  ‘It was so good of you to have electricity connected up for us,’ she said absently. ‘It’s the wrestling, I can’t do without—oh, look! That’s a very technical hold, you know ... Come on—oh, that woman in the front row hit him with her bag! I’m glad, I don’t like this one!’

  Kathryn was rocking with laughter and at last Mrs.. Percival dragged her gaze away from her set and joined in, her blue eyes twinkling with merriment.

  ‘There’s no technique about it at all,’ Kathryn said.

  ‘It’s all for show. One man just stands there and the other picks him up and throws him on the floor. Why doesn’t he get out of the way?’

  ‘You don’t understand it, dear,’ the old lady returned. ‘It’s very technical when you get to know all the holds and things.’

  ‘You’re a tonic,’ declared Kathryn. ‘I’m going to miss you.’ A frown crossed her brow as she watched the old lady’s chest. She could actually see the violent throbbing of her heart. What courage to five with such pain! She fought to live—yet was not in the least afraid to die. ‘How have you been today? The pain ...?’

  ‘One of my good days, in fact. One of those days when I look out at the trees and the birds and the lovely blue sky and think I’m lucky to be alive and enjoying all these things.’ She smiled and told Kathryn to turn the television off. ‘Never mind me; how are you? You look tired.’

  ‘I’m not really.’

  ‘But worried? You mustn’t be. You’ll know soon now how you stand. It must be causing you anxiety, not knowing what he’ll be like, and whether he’ll want to keep you on. It said in my paper the other day that he’s a cowboy; lived in a hut all his life—Probably never washes! Just imagine, he’ll not know how to go on in a place like this. A cowboy as lord of the manor—it’s a wonder those Fittons don’t turn in their graves!’

  ‘He’ll sell out, most likely.’ Kathryn gave an unhappy little sigh. Her love for the Hall couldn’t have been more intense had it been her own ancestors who had occupied it for hundreds of years. ‘If he does sell I expect I shall have to leave.’

  ‘But you can stay for a while? It’s in the will ... so I’ve heard?’

  ‘Mr. Southon provided for me to remain here for twelve months after his death. Six months have gone already. And if the new owner sells out I can’t stay then, of course.’

  ‘You’re allowed to stay only if this cowboy fellow keeps the place on?’

  ‘Yes; and then only for six months—unless he wants me to remain indefinitely, that is.’

  ‘Such a pity it’s an American. Can’t have any feeling for the place—and a cowboy; I can’t get over that, Miss Ramsey. He won’t be educated—not living wild in those Rocky Mountains. I’ve been there, you know.’

  ‘There aren’t many places you haven’t been to, Mrs.. Percival. I quite envy you.’

  ‘Well, it was an achievement in my day, because girls didn’t travel. They just got married and had babies. I didn’t like that idea, so off I went, signed on a ship as a nurse—’ She broke off, laughing. ‘Didn’t know the first thing about nursing, but I wanted to get to Africa. Luckily for me no one was ill on the voyage.’

  Kathryn glanced at her watch.

  ‘I must go.’ Reluctantly she rose to her feet. ‘I’ve the accounts to do from Sunday. We’ve had over sixty thousand visitors this summer up till now.’

  ‘That’s good. Must have made a lot of money.’

  ‘Not bad at all.’ Kathryn stood looking down at the electric fire for a moment and then, ‘About the removal of your van, Mrs.. Percival, you mustn’t worry—’

  ‘Well, I was worrying, dear, because it’s such an upheaval—my old heart, you know. It does play me up if I get even the least bit excited.’

  ‘That’s what I mean; you’re not to worry about a thing. I shall come and pack everything, and I’ll take you to the new site in the car. You’re not going to have any worry at all over it, right?’

  ‘Right. You’re nice, Miss Ramsey. And I was going to ask you what you’d done to your hair. You haven’t been ruining it with that bleach, I hope?’

  ‘It’s the sun,’ Kathryn laughed. ‘It always bleaches it at the front.’

  ‘It’s very pretty—more silver than gold. And you have a lovely skin, dear—pale honey, is it?’ She grinned. ‘Always did get my
adjectives wrong. My Billy—’ She glanced at the photograph on the wall.

  ‘My Billy used to say “What kind of a word is that?” But I say it doesn’t matter so long as it gives you an idea. Yes, pale honey—must be that you’re tanned with the sun—Now stop laughing—and looking at me with those great eyes.’ Kathryn was still laughing and the old lady raised one thin white hand in mock impatience. ‘Be off with you, I want to watch my wrestling. Put it on again for me.’

  Only another week, thought Kathryn, and the house would be back to normal. An involuntary little grimace appeared on her face as she thought of the way she had allowed her sisters to move in, and then, on hearing of the plight of the old folks she had, quite spontaneously, offered them accommodation in the grounds of the Hall. Her mother as usual had accused her of being too soft, but Kathryn was made that way. She was also impulsive, which didn’t help, for whenever she decided to do something she never stopped to think of the probable consequences of her action. Well, that was how she was made, and she had long since become resigned to her own impetuosity. Nevertheless, she breathed an inward sigh of relief at the knowledge that her sisters, and the caravans, would be gone by this time next week.

  She was sitting in her bedroom, at the little desk, trying to write a letter, but she couldn’t concentrate for the noise going on directly beneath her. Rita’s birthday party ... Why did they have to indulge in such rowdyism? The noise down there must be deafening for it to penetrate the thick, oak-beamed ceiling of the sitting-room. After another unsuccessful attempt to continue with her writing Kathryn went downstairs, intending to request a little less noise. But when she opened the door and entered the room she couldn’t help smiling as she stood there, watching what was going on.

  Phil, complete with string tie, high boots and a Stetson hat, was prancing about in the centre of the room singing—or wailing seemed to be a better description—‘I’m an old cowhand ...’ Occasionally he would use an imaginary whip or lasso, and shout ‘Giddy up, there, you ole mare, giddy up!’ and now and then his antics brought forth even louder and more raucous peals of laughter from the two dozen or so girls and youths who were standing in a circle around him. The laughter became so infectious that Kathryn couldn’t contain herself and she was forced to join in.