Work in Progress Untitled Part 6

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5

The next morning, despite the late hour she’d finally gone home to bed, Sara woke with a better outlook. She arrived at the council offices early, prepared the day’s schedule, and booked a council vehicle to drive to the Greenaway estate.

Dave Langtree arrived later than usual. He tripped as he entered the office, sending his briefcase and papers fluttering across the floor.

“Morning,” Sara said, trying to keep a smile off her face.

Dave looked at her with a grimace. “Morning? Is that all you’ve got to say?”

Sara was worried she’d offended him by being amused. She waited to see how he’d react to silence.

“Ah, don’t mind me,” he said, gathering the papers up. “I’ve had a terrible start to the day and I shouldn’t take it out on you.”

Sara picked up his briefcase and placed it on his desk. She helped to pick up the papers and one file caught her eye. It had survived the launch into the office and because of the large rubber band around it, remained closed, with all its papers intact. She handed it to Dave as he picked up the last of the debris.

“That one is for you,” he said. “It’s the ownership history of the estate.”

“Oh, that should be interesting,” Sara turned the file in her hands so she could read the title. “One thing I wanted to ask about the site visit. The solicitors will be looking to make as much profit on the estate as possible and that usually involves planning permission. What’s the stance of the council on that?”

“You’re quite correct in usual circumstances,” Dave sorted through the pages he’d recovered from the floor as he spoke to her. “The estate is complicated.”

“Oh, I thought you’d handed it over to me because it would be simple?”

“Yeah, it is,” he said. He looked up from his papers and stopped sorting. “The complication with this is to do with the debt on the estate. Mrs Greenaway had an agreement with one of our Councillors, dating back to the 60s.”

“The 1960s? Last century?”

“Ha, yeah, it’s a long time ago when you say it like that,” Dave said. “There was a kind of ‘gentleman’s agreement’ that said the Greenaways could defer taxes to the council if they agreed, when they sold off the property, the taxes would be paid in full, with a fair amount of interest. That agreement wasn’t discovered until after the councillor died and by that time, the place was in such disrepair, the council wouldn’t have got back what they were owed. You’ll see, it’s all in the report I gave you, and I have no doubt the solicitors will spin their own yarn about it too.”

“So, the council won’t be granting planning permission for the estate?” Sara said.

“In a nutshell,” Dave said with a grin. “I think the hope is that they’ll sign the whole estate over to the council which will then write-off the debt.”

Sara looked around to see if anyone was in earshot, closed the door and leaned forward. “Backhanders?” she said, lowering her voice.

“You got it,” Dave said, nodding. “Smart cookie.”

“What time do I have to be there?” Sara said. She leafed through the file which was old and delicate in places. As she got to the back of the file, the earlier entries, she realised, were old, but only copies of original documents. She looked up to her boss. “Dave?”

“What? Oh yeah, well, I’ll take you the first time, so you can cancel the car. It’s not that easy to find and the house itself is in desperate need of renovation, and I’d rather you didn’t go alone.” He stood, flipped his hand at the scattered papers on his desk and grabbed the coat he kept on the hanger behind the door. “That lot will still be here when I get back. Come on, adventures await.”

“Adventures await?” Sara said. She grabbed her own coat and followed her boss.

Sara called in at main reception on their way out of the building and cancelled the car she’d reserved for the field trip.

She caught up with Dave and followed him as he went out into the car park. His car sat in the Councillors and Officers parking area. Dave unlocked the car. Sara opened the front passenger door but had to wait for him to clear the seat of a bag and stuff.

She got in and took a glance at the stuff he’d cleared. “You have a school bag?” she asked.

“No, that’s my daydreaming son’s bag. He forgot his PE kit and I have to drop it off on the way back from the estate. Are you OK with that? I can drop you off first if you’d rather.”

“No, it’s OK. I’d think it would be around lunchtime by then, so I’ll grab a bite to eat on the way back.”

“Yeah, that’ll work. I can put it on our expenses and we can discuss the estate while we’re still out.”

They drove to the estate, a short distance from town. Sara watched the route carefully so she’d know where to go when she went on her own. As they drove, they discussed the property. From the file she’d had a quick glance at, the house had a great deal of history.

Sara wasn’t prepared for the sight that greeted them when they went through the dilapidated, but imposing gates. The roadway could be seen only in places. Sara was glad that Dave had decided to drive his car, a capable 4x4. Deep ruts and potholes jerked the car from side to side and the tyres sank into mud in unexpected places.

“I’m not sure we should be encountering mud,” she said. “There’s been no rain for weeks and though it’s cold, this should have dried out ages ago.”

“Yeah, you’d think that,” Dave said. “I think there’s an underground stream or spring around here. The ground is never firm.”

“That’s something the surveyors will flag up, I suppose,” Sara said. “The council will need to get the whole property surveyed before they take possession of it, in case it’s a liability rather than an asset?”

Dave flicked his focus from the driveway to his passenger. “Yes, you’re on the ball, Sara. Well spotted. Don’t mention any of this to the solicitors, we don’t want to spook them.”

“Softly, softly, catchee monkey,” Sara said in a quiet voice.

If Dave heard her, he didn’t respond.

Images from Pixabay

I've cut this a little short today, as the writing goes on in a block of storyline next and I didn't want to either split it or burden the reader with too much story in one go.