Ssssh, She's a Spy

By Joanna Hill

When Jasper unexpectedly inherits an enchanting Elizabethan house from his late Uncle, he embarks on a journey filled with unforeseen challenges. As he settles into his newfound ownership, he discovers that the house harbours a unique mix of elderly residents whose lives are far more complex than meets the eye.

Intrigue looms as Jasper wonders: has he stumbled upon a hidden nest of spies? And if so, who do they serve? The answers elude him, weaving a web of mystery and uncertainty. Caught in a tangle of secrets and deception, Jasper must navigate treacherous waters to uncover the truth.

Will the tangled threads of espionage be unravelled? Can Jasper find a way to untangle the complexities of the spies within his inherited home? In this captivating tale, the stakes are high, and the world of spies proves to be as enigmatic as it is complicated.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Release date: Aug 18, 2023
• ISBN: 9781398490963

Joanna Hill

Joanna Hill has lived between, London, New York, Monaco and rural France but has now moved to a beautiful Elizabethan mansion in Sussex, once the home of her maternal grandmother. Far from basking in grand surroundings, Joanna lives in the old kitchens! She began writing in New York where she worked for the Institute of Fine Arts of NYU and continued in France writing articles for France magazine and for History Scotland. She also wrote the first of her history books. She also has a very handsome dog, a coal black “sproodle” (springer poodle cross) who is great company.

Book preview

Prologue Chapter One

Jasper certainly felt pissed off. He realised that his reaction was odd; he should be bowed down with gratitude. It was just so peculiar that Uncle Hugh, of whom he had been very fond, had left him this enormous legacy without ever having dropped the faintest hint that it was coming. Was it more of a poisoned chalice? Could there be something that he ought to know? The death duties were certainly going to be huge, that, much he realised. Would he be obliged to sell up to pay them? He knew that this happened in many cases where large estates were involved. He’d plainly have to get good advice but not from that fat creep who had just broken the news.

He thought about the house, Hoo Hall. He had read that Hoo probably derives from Saxon times and it refers to a ridge or high piece of land which was very fitting for this house. It’s a handsome Elizabethan/Georgian pile and his uncle had recently turned it into a sort of residential home by creating self-contained flats within it. In a way, it resembled a sort of community or perhaps a club, of mainly retired people. Some meals were eaten in the Dining Room or the Great Hall with most of the residents attending. These events could be a bit daunting for newcomers since the Great Hall, being in the Elizabethan part of the house, is an enormous space, rising two stories through the building. The dining room, while it could not be described as cosy, was certainly a friendlier place.

Jasper’s own father is now living in one of the flats together with no. 3 wife. Douglas Chamberlain had had a modest career as a barrister and had moved into Hoo as soon as his brother had done up a flat for him. Jasper hadn’t seen him for some time partly because he was not overfond of no. 3 wife. Douglas’ first wife had been Jasper’s mother and she had died a long time ago when he was quite small, no. 2 had run off with someone much richer than Douglas and he had now been married to Anne-Marie for about two years. Jasper had to concede that, so far, the marriage appeared to be a success but, somehow, it upset him that the new wife was almost exactly the same age as he was, himself. He had felt, too, that Anne-Marie had been scared of Hugh who could be a bit intimidating sometimes and had the nasty lawyer’s trick of picking you up on anything you said that was vague or not totally accurate. He did not like Anne Marie very much and couldn’t really understand, however hard he tried, what she saw in his father. This was not to say that he wasn’t extremely fond of Douglas; he was, but he was not the most scintillating company for a woman in her mid-thirties. Oh well, each to his taste!

His head spinning as he tried to digest all of this news, Jasper thought he might as well drop into the bank and see about his uncle’s accounts and have a chat with the manager. He had a sneaking feeling that he might have been at school with the man; he was right, Tim Hope had been at prep school with him. It transpired that Tim had, over the past years, got to know Uncle Hugh fairly well.

‘Hi, Jasper, I wondered when you’d drop in. How are things going? Getting used to being a major landowner?’

‘In theory yes, in fact, I’m not so sure.’

Tim raised his eyebrows questioningly, ‘Oh why’s that?’

‘I’ve just come from that old death’s head of a solicitor, happy bearer of bad news, who tells me with evident relish, that I am about to be dunned for literally millions in death duties. I swear he said it to puncture any pleasure I might have expressed or felt on the news that I had inherited everything from Uncle Hugh.’

‘Just jealous! Well, as a matter of fact, so am I! However, if you’d wait a minute or two, I’ll go and get a letter your uncle left with me some years ago.’ Tim disappeared into the back premises of the branch.

Jasper wondered idly what on earth his uncle could have written to him several years previously. He came to the conclusion that it must be something about how to run the place and keep it pretty much as he, Hugh, had envisaged it.

Tim arrived back carrying a large parchment coloured envelope which Jasper recognised as being the sort that Hugh had always used.

Jasper took it and carefully slit the top with a paper knife that the Bank Manager handed to him. ‘Funny, isn’t it, you don’t just rip this sort of stationery apart, do you. It asks to be treated with respect!’ The single sheet inside was of the same paper. He unfolded it.

My dear nephew,

I never told you that I was intending to leave Hoo Hall and the estate to you, that you are my sole heir. I always liked to think that you came to visit so frequently for two reasons: first, because you were quite fond of me and, second, because you love the place.

When you read this letter, you will know that I am no longer walking this earth and that I have left the Estate and all my possessions to you. I hope that you will cherish it all as I have and that it will give you the same degree of pleasure.

To alleviate any anxieties over death duties, let me tell you that I put this in a Trust nearly fifteen years ago and that you are the sole beneficiary. Tax should therefore be fairly minimal.

Enjoy it, my boy!

His uncle’s signature with two witnesses was scrawled at the end.

Jasper read it through three times before looking at Tim and saying, ‘Did you know of this?’

‘No, I didn’t but, I hadn’t come to work here back then. Did you know, you must I’m sure, that Mr Hugh also had an account at our head office in London? He used us here principally for Estate stuff. I just checked the account here. It has just over £20,000 sitting in it right now but it fluctuates, as you can imagine, with rents coming in, lots of expenses so outgoings are hefty, too.’

‘Yes, I see. I know I’ve got to have a serious trawl through the study, Uncle Hugh’s desk etc. I must get back and start on it but not before I’ve had a good long sleep.’ He laughed as he added, ‘Inheriting seems to be very tiring, you should definitely try it, Tim!’

Chapter Two

It was early evening when Jasper finally woke up. Rather to his surprise, he didn’t seem to have any sort of hangover from all the Scotch he had drunk. He was not a great spirits drinker so he was relieved, but he still got out of bed rather cautiously in case a crashing headache should suddenly smite him a death-like blow. The heavy curtains were drawn back, and he lent out of the window looking over the gardens, my gardens he told himself. He inhaled the summer scent delicious! It was really hard to absorb the fact that Uncle Hugh had thought enough of him to leave him this fabulous place. The sun was starting on its slow descent into night and there were long dark shadows lying across the croquet lawn. Ah croquet! He wondered idly if any of the residents played. He’d had some ferocious battles with his uncle and others on that lawn. ‘I’ll take it up again,’ he told himself. So many thoughts were churning through his brain; what to do first, who to turn to for advice; also, he wondered if his father had known about the legacy? Would he be narked when he found that his son had cut him out? In fact, Hugh had probably thought that his younger brother, Jasper’s dad, was too old.

Jasper found it strange to believe that Hugh hadn’t left some sort of advice or lists of people to turn to but, if he had, then where was it? Well, not in here for starters. He got dressed thinking that if he was having dinner with some of the others, he’d better put on a jacket. In fact, he planned to ask the girls living in the old head groom’s cottage to come with him to the pub, after all, the following evening dinner would be in the Dining Room. One way or another, he had never been in this part of the house very often; had certainly never slept in one of the lofty Elizabethan bedrooms, although he had thought he knew it all pretty well. He had never been in this bedroom before. It was in the Elizabethan wing of the house and, as he left it, he suddenly realised that there was a sort of small square lobby before the door which opened out onto the gallery. This space was panelled, beautifully panelled, in what looked like walnut. There were intricate figures of animals. He ran his hand over the carved form of a rearing horse, pressing a little on its rippling quarters, to get the feel of the wood. Without warning, the panel swung inwards and he tumbled in with it, more or less head first. Momentarily stunned, he eventually managed to scramble to his feet. In front of him was a very heavy curtain. He suddenly realised that his phone was buzzing and buzzing in his jeans’ pocket. Oh shit! The office. He had no choice, apart from death, but to answer although he knew reception would be hopeless in the confined space. Desperate to explore what lay behind the curtain, he had to get his phone first, that was second nature.

He clambered back through the panelling, not without some difficulty, and made his way as fast as he was able to the window in the bedroom. He held his phone up as a message clunked into his mailbox.

He was told to log in to his office immediately.

What the hell could it be when he was in rural England on a week’s holiday to sort out his uncle’s estate. He rang his no. 2 at the CTO’s office. ‘Hello, Simon, what is it that’s so urgent?’

The Counter Terrorism Office was a newish department which was trying to sort of co-ordinate the day to day most up to date findings of all the security services. Jasper was in charge of a section where he was closely following the running of three agents, he was backed up by Simon Smyth and their team. He had enjoyed his job and what is more was very good at it but, now, he was coming to the realisation that he would probably have to resign. Would he miss it? Probably, but when he looked at his new commitments, he wouldn’t have a lot of time for regrets!

‘Sorry, Jas, but I’m afraid you’ll have to come back for some planning meetings. I’m not cleared for all of it apparently.’

Jasper sighed. Were all of his holidays going to be like this for ever and ever? Well, no, if he resigned, he could rusticate in peace. The idea did not entirely please him; it had all come too suddenly, and he knew it would be extremely unpopular with the bosses. They didn’t like change, unless, of course, it was instigated by themselves. However, as he looked out across the charming formal gardens below him, he felt an adrenalin rush at the future, albeit in uncharted waters. This beauty was all his and he must cherish it. A couple of rabbits hopped across the grass, bold as brass! A cock pheasant displayed his handsome plumage while he strutted his stuff across the lawn. It was all just so fabulous!

When all was said and done (in his old grandmother’s words), he had no dependents and had already made himself quite a healthy sum of money although that looked like chicken feed beside his uncle’s legacy. He let his mind wander to the question of the residents as his uncle had always called them. He’d soon find out. He knew that some of the flats were quite grand and others relatively modest but what were their occupants like? He wondered if he should visit each of them separately. Would he find them congenial or serial whingers? Probably bits of both. After chewing this over for some