The Lost Soldier by Costeloe Diney Read Free Book Online Page B

Rachel asked her.
    Paula shrugged. “Some of them. A search will have to be made for the others, or the descendants of the others.”
    “And if they can’t be found?”
    “An interesting point,” acknowledged Mrs Sharp. “We shall have to take advice on that.”
    “Do they need to fell all the trees?” Rachel wondered. “It might not be necessary to cut all of them down.”
    “No,” agreed Mrs Sharp, “but consider the dreadfully bad feeling there will be if some are felled and some are left.”
    Rachel knew that she was right. As she looked across at Tim Cartwright she wondered briefly whether to tell him who owned the trees, but decided against it. He’d find out soon enough, and if her paper were going to do battle with his company, it was better to keep some cards hidden. Rachel had every intention of trying to trace the descendants of each family, and she wanted a head start. She wanted to know what each family really thought, not what they might be bribed or coerced into thinking by Mike Bradley and Tim Cartwright, with offers of compensation and new memorial fountains. Of course Tim Cartwright hadn’t mentioned compensation yet, indeed Brigstock Jones must be hoping that the memorial would be enough, but she was sure that the wisdom expressed in the pub had been right, it was almost certainly only a matter of time until it all came down to money.
    “I see,” she said returning his smile. “Well I suppose it can’t be helped. But it looks as if you’ll have a battle on your hands. As you already know there will be opposition from some of the families. For instance, Miss Strong spoke out against it very firmly at the meeting. One of the trees is in memory of her brother.”
    “Yes, William Strong,” Tim Cartwright said, and seeing her surprise that he was able to come up with the name so quickly, added, “There is another memorial to them in the church. Even if the trees went, they wouldn’t be without memorial, you know. They’re all named in there.”
    Rachel didn’t know, but she kept further surprise from her face and said, “Even so, that doesn’t have the emotional appeal of a living memorial, does it?”
    “I agree,” Tim said smoothly, “but that’s not our fault. We want to be as sensitive about this as possible, but the bottom line is that if this development is to go ahead for the benefit of everyone, we may have no alternative but to fell the trees.”
    Rachel stood up. “Well, thank you very much for your time, Mr Cartwright. Please tell Mr Bradley that I am sorry he wasn’t able to see me, but I think I have all I need now.”
    Tim Cartwright held out his hand again. “Well, if I can be of any further assistance, please don’t hesitate to give me a call.” He took a card from his desk and gave it to her. “This is my direct line and my mobile, just give me a call, any time.”
    Rachel went home to put the notes she had made into her computer and as she sorted them she considered exactly what she had learned. The ownership of the trees had not been the only thing of interest Paula Sharp had told her. It was the question of the actual land involved.
    “The village green used to be part of the Manor estate,” Paula had said. “Though the village people had various rights over it. When Sir George died he left the green and the piece of land beyond it to the parish council, to be used for the public benefit of the village. The village green was left as it was, but the extra piece of land was fenced off and offered as individual allotments to residents of Charlton Ambrose at peppercorn rents. They were all taken up and worked by local people, though the ownership of the land still rested with the parish council.”
    “And now the council has sold that land to Brigstock Jones,” said Rachel.
    “Yes, subject to planning permission.”
    “Didn’t the wording of the will prohibit that?” asked Rachel, surprised.
    “We took legal advice on that,” said Paula Sharp. “It