Chapter 18
Lola told her mum and dad about the call from the solicitors and explained that she had arranged to go to Belfast that night. Her parents offered to accompany her, but Lola told them that she would be meeting a friend afterwards and that she would be fine. Changing into her favourite pair of skinny jeans, flat pumps and a white cotton t-shirt, she set off for Belfast. She’d never driven in the city before and was relieved to find that she had missed the rush hour traffic.
It was exactly six-thirty when she pulled up outside Tennyson and Tennyson’s Solicitors. The building, like the creaking sign above the door, was aged, and the external cream paint was flaking off the front of the building. Pushing on the glass door, Lola realised it was locked. Suddenly the buzzer sounded and the door clicked open.
Climbing the stairs to the first floor, Lola found the reception area deserted, as was the rest of the office.
‘Hello, Hello! Is anyone there?’ shouted Lola, beginning to feel a bit edgy and wishing she had brought company.
‘In here, dear!’ Lola recognised the voice; it was the same man she had spoken to on the phone earlier that day.
She entered a large spacious office to find a frail little man hunched over a mahogany desk, dressed in a dark grey suit, which seemed to be as old as he was. Sweeping his snow-white hair back across his face, Felix Tennyson extended his hand to greet Lola.
‘Thank you for coming, dear, at such short notice. I’m sorry I didn’t go down to meet you at the door. The old bones aren’t what they used to be. Please, take a seat, Miss Paige,’ said Felix, as he motioned to the plush mahogany chair in front of his desk.
Comfortably seated, Lola eagerly waited for him to explain why she was there.
‘You must be wondering why I have asked you to come here tonight, Lola? Well it was at Arthur’s request.’
Lola nodded her head in reply and waited for the old man to continue. Slowly getting up from his seat, Felix moved towards a picture hanging on the wall at the back of the room. Pushing the old dusty picture aside, he entered an unlock code for the iron safe embedded into the wall. He gradually made his way back to his desk with a small file and some keys, then fell back into his seat again. He opened the file, glancing at Lola over the top of his smeared spectacles.
‘Lola, this is the last will and testament of Arthur Delphian, and I need you to listen carefully.’
Lola nodded, giving Felix Tennyson her undivided attention as he began to read Arthur’s will.
This is the Last Will and Testament of me, Arthur Delphian, born on 23rd July 1940, of Brook Mill Manor Estate, Scarvagh Road, Ballyvalley made this day of 7th June 2010. I hereby revoke all former Wills and Codicils made by me, and declare this to be my Last Will. I appoint my dear friend and solicitor, Felix Tennyson, to be Executor of this Will.
I devise and bequeath the residue of my real and personal estate and wealth to my granddaughter through fate, Miss Lola Paige.
In relation to my body, I wish it to be cremated as detailed in the letter to my fellow members of the Ancient Order of the Golden Dawn.
As witness, my hand the day and year above written, signed Arthur Delphian, Monday 7th June 2010.
Handing Lola the piece of thick paper, Felix pointed to the two signatures at the bottom.
‘As you can see this has been witnessed by both Markus and I,’ confirmed Felix.
Lola was silent; she hadn’t noticed that her hands were trembling until she lifted the page. She scanned it again to make sense of what she had just been told. Her face had turned an ashen white and tears began to trickle down her cheeks. Felix looked at her, worried that he had said something wrong.
‘Are you okay, dear?’ he asked, clearly confused as to why she was upset. ‘Usually when people are given such a generous inheritance they jump for joy!’
‘I don’t deserve this,’ was the only reply Lola could muster.
She felt once again humbled by Arthur’s virtue. She felt guilty that she had always taken from him and never really given anything in return, at least not in the material sense. He was always there for her, always at hand to listen to whatever problems she was having, always there to give advice. He had taught her so much, given her so much knowledge and so much of his time, but what had she given him? As far as she could see not very much! The thought was unbearable, she didn’t deserve this. Lifting her head, her eyes met Felix’s.
‘I don’t want it! Arthur has given me enough. I can’t accept this, Mr Tennyson!’
This was clearly not a reaction that the seasoned solicitor was used to.
‘You really are something else, Miss Paige,’ he chuckled. ‘You certainly are one of a kind, Arthur was right there! This is what Arthur wanted, dear. It’s irrelevant whether or not you think you deserve it. Arthur thought you worthy. He believed you to be worthy of more than just bricks and mortar and a sizable bank account.’
Lola knew what he was alluding to.
‘Speaking of which,’ asked Felix, ‘did you get the other package I sent you?’
It took Lola a fraction of a second before she realised what he was talking about. ‘Oh, you mean the ring and the crystal sun catcher thing?’
‘Tut tut tut,’ chided the old man. ‘The crystal sun catcher thing? Indeed, Lola! Well there is one last part to add to the ring and the other object.’ Leaning closer to Lola, Felix’s expression was grave. ‘Here is the third and final part, it will complete the trilogy and it is of the utmost importance that you never let any of these items out of your sight at any time. Nor should you tell anyone you have them. Do you understand?’
The old man handed Lola a piece of paper wrapped in a plastic gel protective sheath. Taking a closer look, Lola realised that it was actually a page from a very old book. The page was yellowed and frayed around the edges with water marks and creases all over it. Despite this, it had the appearance of a magnificent piece of art. The lettering seemed to have been drawn with a quill and ink in a Celtic script. The page heading was highlighted by the most vivid red and yellow illustrations. Tuatha Dé Danann were the only words that Lola could make out, as the entire text was written in Gaelic.
What am I expected to do with this, she thought to herself. Felix answered her question, as though he had read her mind.
‘As you can see the entire text is written in Irish, Lola. Well to be exact it’s written in Old Irish. There are only a handful of people on this island who can read that, one of those people was Arthur Delphian.’
‘So, for what reason have I been given this? Am I expected to interpret it?’ she muttered growing impatient.
‘I wish I could tell you, Lola, but I have told you everything that Arthur told me. He just said that it was a very old and sacred text and urged that you keep it safe. As you can see it is written on calf skin and it must not be taken out of its protective casing. That gel sheath is state-of-the-art. It provides the perfect conditions for that text to remain as it is, so do not remove it. As to the other matters, it will take a while for Arthur’s assets to be transferred to you, but Brook Mill Manor, well that’s yours now!’
Lola caught the set of keys to Brook Mill Manor, as Felix glided them over the desk to her.
‘One more thing,’ he chuckled. ‘Cuchulain is also your dog now! I wish you luck with that. It’s getting late now, Lola, and I don’t want to keep you any longer. I’ll be in touch. Would you mind seeing yourself out?’ Getting up Lola thanked Felix. As she was about to leave, he called her back. ‘Just one more thing, Lola, please be careful,’ he warned in his chalky voice.
‘Okay, Mr Tennyson,’ said Lola, not really understanding his meaning. ‘I will and thank you.’
Tucking the keys and the parchment into her bag, she left the office and headed up the street to Mystic Moone, unaware that she was being followed.