As always, Sandy had insisted that despite being fifteen and well able to dress herself, Vanessa wore gloves and a hat to ensure that she didn’t burn her fingers or allow a stray ember or spark to land on her hair. The governess watched from the sidelines, at the edge of the crowd, the eternal non-family member. But that was more from choice than circumstance because Georgie went out of her way to include her in every occasion: holidays, excursions, mealtimes. However, Sandy thought it best to remain detached and avoid forming relationships because after all, one day the quiet governess hoped to walk away, and take Vanessa with her.
Until then, Sandy would bide her time and wait for the right moment, for the Lord to give her a sign which despite fervent prayers had not arrived, but it would, she trusted in him. For now she was grateful for being delivered to Tenley and able to spend every day with her daughter. Vanessa was a teenager, surrounded by friends, mere sycophants in Sandy’s opinion along with a doting stepmother whose hold was strong, the genuine fondness and loyalty between them proved most difficult to sever.
Out of everything, it wasn’t the momentous reunification of natural mother and child or the bond with the stepmother that had caused Sandy the greatest distress. It was the set of Vanessa’s jaw, the shape of her head, her ungainly gait and those curly raven locks that had brought Sandy up short, right from the moment she first laid eyes on her daughter.
The day she pulled up outside Tenley, Sandy’s heart was pumping so hard she thought she might die before she set eyes on her stolen baby. Her car contained only meagre possessions held inside two small suitcases and nothing that would expose her true identity. After a trip into Bristol to offload anything of value that she’d collected from the retirement home, Sandy’s life didn’t take long to pack up and carry to her car.
During the short journey, one in which she was held in suspended animation, travelling along a flat line not a tarmac road, adrenalin had a numbing effect. It was strange because in her many imaginings of this day, Sandy had been wild with joy and anticipation at meeting her child whereas now, reality had a sobering influence on emotion. As she drove through the gates of Tenley, the spell was broken and the anaesthetic wore off. The sight of the majestic house in the distance in which her child awaited, kick started her heart. Not only was she nervous but petrified of giving herself away and utterly terrified of one thing in particular – rejection. What if Vanessa hated her? Sandy hated that name and was hurt beyond words that the Tenleys had changed it from that on her birth certificate. Sandy’s baby was named Rachel and that was how she would always think of her. Pushing away any anger Sandy focused on the road and the momentous meeting ahead. They had to get along, they just had to.
Vanessa had been waiting in the sitting room that smelt of fresh paint, lilies and new carpet, her mother by her side. Sandy hated that word because it belonged to her, not the blonde-haired clothes horse who poisoned the room the moment she lit a cigarette, seconds after she introduced her daughter, their daughter.
It was awkward at first. Vanessa stared and Sandy did the same and in that instant she imagined that her child’s eyes, so similar to her own and the only visible connecting attribute held a hint of recognition. The precious moment that was supposed to be so special was rudely broken by Georgie stepping in.
“Now, Vanessa, remember your manners and say hello to Sandy. I’m sure you two are going to get on famously and will have lots of fun together. Come along, don’t be shy.”
Obediently, Vanessa stood and approached, holding out her hand, wary but not unfriendly, possibly more concerned about not letting her mother down than offending the new woman.
“Very pleased to meet you, Sandy, and welcome to Tenley.” Then she smiled and contact was made.
How she was able to control her emotions remained a mystery to Sandy and all she could surmise was that the fear of discovery and after coming so far, she could not give the game away, not now. As she touched the soft plump hand of her beautiful baby girl, the one she had longed for since the day, no, the second she was taken away, Sandy felt a rush of blood to the head. Fearing she would faint whilst fighting the urge to drop to her knees and pull Vanessa to her chest, hold on tight and never let go, Sandy sucked in air and steeled herself. With every ounce of strength God gave her, she smiled, her lips quivering, forcing back the tears that pricked her eyes she somehow replied.
“I’m very pleased to meet you, Vanessa, and thank you for your kind welcome.” It was all she could manage so left Georgie to take the lead. It seemed her role of preference.
Sandy quickly got used to it, that reminder of him, the flawed genes that swam through Vanessa’s blood and linked her to an ogre. She had so hoped her child would be dainty and have auburn hair but apart from her eyes which were deepest brown, it was not to be. In fact, everything about Vanessa leant more towards her natural father, the cumbersome, large-boned rapist. But all was not lost because at least she didn’t limp and apart from her size, Vanessa was physically perfect and with the help of a strict regime and exercise, Sandy had been confident that she could transform her daughter and remodel her in another image.
It had proved to be an uphill struggle because Georgie, as Mrs Tenley insisted on being referred to, spoiled and indulged the child at every opportunity. In fact she soon became Sandy’s worst but most unlikely of enemies, simply because Georgie was kind and sweet and very hard to dislike. Her biggest mistake of all was being adored, by Vanessa.
Their bond was like an impenetrable fort and try as she might, Sandy could not break through. Yes, Vanessa was polite and obedient and never made a fuss even when her parents went up to London for days on end. Although it was clear the child fretted, Georgie quite openly explained to Sandy about her agreement with Vanessa who despite being a bit sad, understood that her parents needed alone time.
Then there was the cat, Miss Mittens. It had been some kind of consolation prize for Vanessa, bought by Georgie to paper over her absences and salve her conscience. Sandy hated the bloody thing, a stupid hair-ball that insisted on rubbing itself all over everything. It was nasty too and had given Vanessa a deep scratch on her cheek. The hoo-ha that followed made Sandy’s own hair stand on end because Vanessa became hysterical at the sight of blood and refused to be comforted by Sandy and as usual, only mother superior would do. It was always the same.
Sandy judged the relationship between Vanessa and her stepmother as rather contrived and cleverly manipulated by Georgie, who in her own and seemingly guileless way, steered the whole family in whatever direction she chose, for her own self-serving reasons. The thing was she made everyone happy, apart from Phyllis, and her number one fan was Vanessa.
It irked Sandy greatly to admit that because of this, she frequently committed yet another sin and was riddled with envy, but compared to the rest of the household, hers were tiny and forgivable in comparison. And then there were the commandments. Dear Lord the things that went on under the roof of Tenley and no doubt in London broke almost every single one of them, not that Sandy could prove it but she had her suspicions.
During the summer months the house was invaded by all manner of visitors who slithered down from London and outstayed their welcome. Not in Georgie and Kenneth’s eyes, who were consummate hosts and thrived on company. As far as Sandy was concerned the guests polluted the atmosphere while their contaminated and drug-fogged minds were unsuitable company for Vanessa. Again it was like banging Sandy’s head against the wall because the child adored her ragtag band of faux aunts and uncles who draped themselves over the sofas and lounged in the garden, smoking magic cigarettes and drinking themselves into a stupor. During the night, floorboards would creak as footsteps stole along the corridor, doors opening and closing, betraying secret assignations.
Thank heaven Vanessa remained terrified of the pool otherwise she would have witnessed the goings on; naked swimmers frolicking in the moonlight. Oh yes, Sandy had watched it all from the shadows, telling herself that such voyeurism was necessa
ry in order to keep Vanessa safe and out of harm’s way.
As for the Tenleys, Sandy couldn’t fathom them and often listened at their bedroom door, intimate conversations drowned out by the sound of records playing late into the night. If not, Kenneth would read in his study while Georgie watched television and drank too much gin before falling asleep on the sofa, woken only by the beep at the end of service. In public they were affectionate and Georgie would perch on Kenneth’s knee, gazing lovingly into his eyes, or with their heads close together whispering, sharing a private joke before pealing with laughter. For all intents they were the perfect couple and from her observations, Sandy had no reason to assume otherwise as unlike their amoral guests, during the night they remained in their bedroom, albeit not in the traditional sense.
Sandy’s role of housekeeper made her privy to most things, she had access to all areas and their bedroom posed the greatest conundrum. The suite of rooms consisted of a small sitting area along with a large and lavishly furnished bedroom with dressing room and en suite. What stood out and drew raised eyebrows when Sandy first spotted them were the separate beds.
According to Georgie, it was all the rage in America and considered to be both hygienic and the essence of a happy marriage, adding with a wink that it made naughtiness much more exciting. Sandy didn’t believe her. She had spent too many hours at the hotel removing sheets soiled by lust or littered with its rubber remains and there was evidence of neither, although after rummaging through her bedside drawer, Sandy had ascertained that Georgie took the pill. This alone was telling. But it was the whispered telephone conversations, giggling like a schoolgirl and Georgie’s flushed face and smug smile once the receiver was replaced that gave the game away.
Not only did the lady of Tenley commit the sin of lust, she broke the commandments too. Along with the graven images of Hindu gods and fat Buddhas that littered the house, lying to her husband, dishonouring her parents, coveting the child of another, regularly taking the Lord’s name in vain and presumed adulterous behaviour were added to the list of Georgie’s failings.
They were all sinners, each and every Tenley. During Sunday service, while Sandy paid penance for her own deviances, it pained her to admit that even Vanessa was guilty of greed and gluttony. It was another trait which harked back to her true origins and one that Sandy had attempted to curtail but as with all things relating to Vanessa, was thwarted at every turn by Georgie.
The conversation regarding Vanessa’s size occurred while she was at school and had been much rehearsed by Sandy who had fully expected resistance from both mother and child. They had been here before, not long after Sandy took up her post at Tenley but in the six years since their first discussion, Vanessa had grown even bigger, both in stature and weight.
“But, Georgie, it isn’t healthy for Vanessa to eat so much and I’m convinced some sort or regime would only be beneficial, both medically and socially. You know she is still bullied and ridiculed and soon the other young ladies will attract admirers. I’m sure you wouldn’t want her to feel left out.” The latter point was of no real concern to Sandy as she hoped that Vanessa might avoid all that nonsense but thought it might appeal to Georgie’s romantic nature and secure her help.
“Yes, yes. I completely understand your concerns, Sandy, but Vanessa is an intelligent young lady and once it occurs to her that she might need to lose a few pounds then we shall help in any way but until then leave her be. I believe that children must be allowed to go their own way and not be moulded by their parents. She has her own mind and free will so let’s wait and see.”
“But what about the bullying and spiteful comments? Surely it must hurt Vanessa, and as for her friends, both you and I know they are fake and after their own interests. I’m convinced they only come here in the hope of bumping into Laurie or one of your other friends, and their mothers are no better.”
“So what would you prefer… that I banish them all and leave Vanessa friendless? I have to endure those dreary stuck-up women in order to secure companions for Vanessa so I don’t think it’s too much to expect that you turn a blind eye to their envious offspring. I do admire your loyalty and respect your concerns but you will have to trust me on this. I know what’s best for Vanessa and a diet would just make her grumpy and worse of all, think we are criticising or ashamed of her. That little girl felt rejected all her life until I came into it and I won’t have her upset.” Georgie folded the copy of Vogue that rested on her knee.
“Now, I think I will collect her from school today and give you a few hours off… it’s the least I can do. You are such a good egg, Sandy, you really are, and I don’t know what we would do without you.” Bringing the conversation to a close, Georgie stubbed out her cigarette and rose from the sofa.
Unable to speak due to the rage swimming through every vein and sinew in her body, Sandy merely nodded as Georgie picked up her handbag and headed for the door. It had been the word rejected that stung the most. Vanessa hadn’t been rejected, she had been stolen. That Georgie presumed to know best and credited herself for Vanessa’s happiness paled in significance compared to that statement. How Sandy wished that the Lord would hurry up and give her a sign, show her how to be rid of Georgie and every single hurdle that stood in the way of her and Vanessa being together, just the two of them, as it should be.
Months had passed since the conversation and once the smoke of Bonfire Night had dissipated, Tenley would gear up for another period of indulgence and frivolity where no doubt Vanessa would eat her way through her birthday and the Christmas holidays, devouring every treat in sight.It wouldn’t end there either because shortly after they’d see in the New Year and say hello to 1979 with another wild party, more or less par for the course at Tenley.
As Sandy followed the gaggle of villagers who were heading home, slightly ahead of Georgie and Kenneth but just behind Vanessa and her friends, she shivered, the drizzle seemed to seep though her overcoat and the cold penetrated the rubber soles of her wellingtons. But it wasn’t just the weather that made her shudder, it was the reminder of Christmas past, her very first at Tenley, the night she foolishly let down her guard and could have lost everything.
Georgie had arranged a Christmas party in the village hall to thank the tenants and farmers of Tenley Estate for their hard work, along with a rather large handful of hangers-on and useful notaries. Vanessa was too young to attend and was to be watched over by Dolly who was staying for all of Christmas and New Year. At Georgie’s insistence, Sandy was to join them at the party. No matter how hard she tried to get out of it, she was eventually cajoled into going along and was even given a frantic make-over by Georgie whom she suspected of match-making or at least hoped to pair her up for the dancing.
Despite Georgie’s best efforts, Sandy managed to avoid being dragged onto the dance floor preferring instead to remain seated in the corner with her tonic water which she surreptitiously topped up with gin from the hipflask hidden in her handbag. It was only when she attempted to go to the toilets that she realised she was drunk and before she lost control of her limbs or tongue, excused herself and asked the barman to order her a taxi. Georgie and Kenneth were far too occupied with dancing and socialising to protest and within minutes, Sandy was back at Tenley.
The house was silent when she let herself in apart from the hum from the television accompanied by Dolly’s gentle snores. Creeping past and up the stairs, fearful of wakening the Phyllis-monster, Sandy continued to the end of the corridor and Vanessa’s bedroom. After entering the almost pitch-black room, a streak of light cast from the small crack in the door she’d left ajar guiding her way, Sandy crept over to the bed and gently lowered herself onto the mattress. As she listened to her daughter’s soft breathing, Sandy bent closer and whispered in her ear.
“Sleep well, my darling, and know that I am always here to watch over you, and keep you safe from harm. I missed you so much while I was away but I never gave up and always knew that one day I’d find you. I wish I could t
ell the world that you are mine, my precious girl, but they would send me away so for now it’s a secret, our secret. Just remember Mummy is here and I will never leave you again.” Sandy was about to bend and kiss Vanessa on the forehead when the door creaked and moved just slightly, a dark shadow blocking the light from the hallway.
Standing and moving swiftly from the bed, Sandy rushed to the door and pulled it open to find Phyllis on the other side, staring, her beady eyes inquisitive. Pulling the door closed behind her, Sandy held her breath before calmly guiding the silent naked woman whose face was smeared with red lipstick and smudged eye shadow, strings of necklaces hanging around her neck, back to her room. As Phyllis asked over and over again what time the party started, Sandy’s heart raced as did her mind, terrified that the old woman had overheard.
As she lay in bed that night, Sandy comforted herself that it was impossible, there was no way Phyllis could have overheard her whisperings. But she was so angry with herself for once again succumbing to the demon drink and for laying herself bare. It couldn’t happen again and Sandy resolved never to visit Vanessa’s room when drunk or speak of her secret. Next time she might not be so lucky and find Georgie or Kenneth eavesdropping at the door, not a naked senile old woman.
For days, Sandy was on tenterhooks but gradually felt the fear of exposure ebb, and life carried on as normal at Tenley. Since that day, she had remained steadfast and tried hard to limit her alcohol consumption to her days off or when a helping hand was required to see her through the night.
The Secrets of Tenley House Page 16