I am so sorry we didn’t manage to make a real go of things. I fear we only clung to each other because of our grief over the loss of Simon. He was your fiancé and my best friend. When I married you, all I wanted to do was honour his memory and make you happy. I’m so sorry it didn’t work out that way. You gave me the most wonderful joy when Milly was born, so personally I have no regrets. You may feel I have been unfair to you with regards to my will, but you are still a very attractive and much sought-after woman so I have no doubt that you shall probably be married again before the first year of my passing. Be happy, my dear. Don’t look back. Embrace life in all its fullness.

I have left you something which I hope will make you smile. It is just between you and me, and may remind you of our honeymoon. If you look inside Aunt Felicity’s vase, the one you hated so much, you will find some black beads. They are not what they seem. They are, in fact, black pearls and, as such, very valuable. I didn’t include them in the will, because I felt sure that if Pearl knew about them, she would want them for herself and would have persuaded you to give them to her. I always thought that you were far too soft where she was concerned. I want you to have them, Agatha. Do with them what you will. Sell them or have them made into a necklace. Don’t be fooled by the slightly off-white ones. They are still black pearls, despite their colour, and actually much more valuable than the rest. Together they are worth a small fortune.

I hope you have a happy life, my dear.

With great affection and gratitude,

Charles

It took Agatha a few seconds to recall the vase, and then it came to her. It was one of the ones she had sold. She had found them herself, and then later Mrs Cunningham had heard the pearls rolling around inside when she’d come to clean it. Oh God, and she’d thrown the damned things into the bin! They were long gone. Worth a small fortune. She screwed the letter up in her hand as the tears smarted her eyes.

Oh Charles. You fool. You bloody fool!

Mabel Cunningham stood by the entrance to the jeweller’s shop clutching her handbag close to her chest. Her life savings were inside. She knew it wasn’t much, but it was all she had, and she wanted her daughter to have something very special for her birthday.

Life hadn’t been easy since her husband took ill. She’d worked hard all her life and just about got by. It had been a blessing when dear Mr Charles had given her a small annuity, but when the mistress contested the will, she had been terrified that Mrs Shepherd would move heaven and earth to stop her from having it. When the rest of the staff left, Mabel stayed on, not out of loyalty but to make sure she got her fair share. And as soon as the terms of the will had been verified, she had left Muntham Court without a backward glance.

In her last few weeks, the mistress had had a clear-out. Mabel had been asked to wash some valuable pieces ready for the auction house. Inside a vase, the one that stood in the sitting room, she’d found some black beads. She’d shown them to Mrs Shepherd. Later on, when she’d emptied the waste-paper basket, Mabel had found the beads inside. Well, if Mrs Shepherd didn’t want them, Mabel was sure her daughter would enjoy them. Only it never happened.

When her Harold died, the beads were tucked away in a drawer and forgotten. She’d found them again just a week ago and taken them to the jeweller.

‘Can you make them into a necklace,’ she’d said. ‘There’s no hole for you to thread them and they’re a little bit dull, but perhaps you could add a few coloured beads on the string to brighten them up?’

The jeweller had promised he would make them into a necklace to remember, and Mabel felt content.

As she put her hand on the doorknob of the shop, a young couple were coming out of the jeweller’s. They only had eyes for each other and didn’t notice Mabel, not until they bumped into her.

‘Ooh, sorry,’ said the girl, and then she added, ‘Mrs Cunningham!’

It was Miss Milly. Mabel was delighted to see her again, and she looked so different. Her eyes were shining; Mabel had never seen her looking so happy.

‘I haven’t seen you for ages, Miss Milly,’ Mabel said. ‘How are you getting on?’

‘Oh, now you make me feel so guilty,’ said Milly. ‘I’ve been meaning to come round to see you. I’m going away, you see. I’m leaving Worthing.’

‘I can see by your uniform that you’ve joined the ATS,’ said Mabel.

‘Yes, I’m going to put my artistic skills to good use. I have joined a camouflage unit.’

‘Oh,’ said Mabel. She hadn’t a clue what that might be, but she knew better than to ask more. ‘And your young man?’

‘You should remember me, Mrs Cunningham,’ he said. ‘I’m Seebold Flowers, the man the baron sent packing all that time ago.’

‘Oh, I’m sorry, dear,’ said Mrs Cunningham. ‘I hardly recognised you in your uniform. Royal Engineers, isn’t it?’

‘It certainly is,’ said Seebold.

‘You seem content with that,’ Mabel added with smile.

‘What could be better?’ said Seebold with a chuckle. ‘I’m up to my armpits in engines and oily rags all day long.’

Mrs Cunningham chuckled. ‘Aren’t you the young man who caught a wolf up Shoreham way and ended up in Lewes Crown Court?’

Seebold laughed. ‘The very same.’

‘Funny business that,’ Mabel remarked with a puzzled expression.

Milly and Seebold looked at each other and grinned. ‘Well, we’d better be going,’ said Milly. ‘Nice to see you again, Mrs Cunningham.’

Mabel hesitated. ‘Miss Milly, when I worked for your mother,’ she began cautiously, ‘she threw out some black beads. I thought my daughter would like them, so I’ve asked the jeweller to make them into a necklace.’

‘What a lovely idea,’ said Milly. ‘How is your daughter?’

‘She’s doing well, thank you, miss. She’s left school now and she’s training to be a hairdresser.’

‘Good for her,’ said Milly. ‘Please give her my best wishes.’

Milly would have moved on, but Mrs Cunningham was looking a tad uncomfortable. ‘Is everything all right?’

‘You don’t mind if I keep the beads?’ she asked. ‘I mean, if you want them back . . .’

‘Absolutely not,’ said Milly. ‘Especially after all you did for my family.’ She turned to leave but then paused and turned back.

‘Mrs Cunningham,’ Milly began again. ‘Can I share something with you? I should like you to be the first to know, we’ve just got engaged.’ She held out her left hand and the sweetest little opal ring twinkled on her finger.

‘Oh miss!’ cried Mabel. ‘I’m so happy for you. So happy.’

Mabel admired the ring, then Miss Milly kissed her cheek and Seebold, his face wreathed in smiles, shook her hand vigorously.

As they parted, Mabel watched them cross the street. She was delighted for them both and she hoped they would be as happy as she and her Harold had been. In these difficult days, she thought to herself, we all need a little bit of good in our lives. Milly’s mother had never treated her right. Such a shame that poor Mr Charles had died. She sighed. Far too young as well.

What a blessing that he’d given her that annuity. Back then, it had saved her bacon. Even though she had been the only member of staff who had worked for Mrs Shepherd all those months after Mr Charles had died, she was still owed a lot of money – Mrs Shepherd had never paid her a penny.

She turned around and pushed open the shop door.

‘Ah, Mrs Cunningham,’ said the jeweller, coming up to the counter. ‘So glad you’ve come in. About those beads. I think you will be pleasantly surprised. I haven’t made them into a necklace yet because I have something to tell you . . .’

Author’s Note

The stories I write are entirely fictional, but I do use real-life settings and draw on historical facts. In this story, some of my readers will not be slow to recognise that I have unashamedly used parts of a real event, a story I came across some twenty years ago; one which still makes me laugh. It involves one of this country’s greatest showmen, Sir Billy Butlin.

When he died, Billy Butlin was a much-respected man, and to this day his name is still synonymous with holiday camps and family entertainment. But there was a time when the people of Bognor Regis weren’t too happy with him and neither, for that matter, were the police. The blip in his popularity was caused by a ‘missing’ lion called Rex.

In 1931, Billy Butlin acquired some land just a few hundred yards from Bognor Pier, known locally as ‘the cabbage patch’ because it had been used for allotments during World War I. He set about creating Billy Butlin’s Centre of Happiness, with ‘dodgem cars, water speed boats, roundabouts and automatic amusement machines, all brilliantly illuminated with hundreds of coloured electric bulbs’. The crowds flocked in.

The secret of Butlin’s success was that he was never one to rest on his laurels. In 1933 he decided to open a menagerie as well, so he gave instructions for certain animals to be transported from Skegness down to the south coast. These included a brown bear, a panther and an African lion. Billy Butlin made the same journey from Skegness to Bognor but not with the convoy. When he arrived the next day, the whole place was buzzing with rumour.

Following a slight accident at Clymping, a few miles from Bognor, staff noticed three bars from the side of one cage were missing. All the animals were accounted for . . . except the lion.