‘Miss Maitland suggesting turning the baby clinic into a social occasion with a view to discussing good domestic practice. Will you release her once a week, please?’
‘I assumed it would be one of the nurses,’ said Mary.
‘We can’t spare one, and it would put Mrs Winter in an awkward position. You’d be happy to, presumably?’ Did his gaze flick towards the cupboard?
‘Of course.’
‘Right-o.’ With a nod, he departed.
Without looking at Mrs Winter, not wanting her undoubtedly disapproving expression to sour the moment, she stuck her head back in the cupboard. Charlie was right. All it had taken was a bit of initiative.
On her way back to the office from putting away the cleaning things, she saw Nathaniel coming out of the office, black bag in hand. He headed for the front door, off on his rounds.
The moment she walked in, Mrs Winter pounced.
‘You couldn’t wait to go running to Doctor Brewer, could you? How dare you complain about me?’
‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘Don’t play the innocent. You suck up to the doctors with your idea, then complain about being given menial jobs.’
‘I never said a word—’
‘Then why would Doctor ask for cleaning jobs to be left to the scrubbing woman?’
‘Maybe because I’m not employed to do the cleaning.’
‘Don’t get fresh with me, madam. You may be Doctor Brewer’s blue-eyed girl, and you may be related to the Kimbers, but in this office, you’re the junior and don’t you forget it.’
Helen’s heart leapt. The Kimber carriage! The thought of seeing Christina filled her with joy. Christina: Helen wouldn’t dream of using her first name now. She wasn’t a fearful woman, but the thought of the snub she would receive made her quake with horror.
Had she brought Eleanor? The coachman opened the door and let down the step. Here came Her Ladyship in gorgeous turquoise and – oh, please, please – no one behind her. Of course, she had been a silly old fool to hope and if the disappointment hurt, then it was her own stupid fault. Her hip chose that moment to administer a jagged-edged pain deep inside the joint. It seemed linked to the anguish in her heart. It took all her willpower to put one foot in front of the other without dragging. She got to the hall, feeling as though her bad leg would crumble to pieces, just as Lady Kimber swept inside.
‘I wish to see Mr Rawley.’
‘He’s indisposed,’ Helen said, before Edith could reply.
Lady Kimber gave her a cool look. ‘Is he conscious? Then he’ll see me.’
‘I’d rather—’
Lady Kimber looked at Edith. ‘Kindly announce me.’
‘Yes,’ came another voice. ‘Kindly announce Her Ladyship.’
And there was Greg, blast his eyes, propped against the door frame, one hand thrust into the pocket of his striped silk dressing gown. Damn him, he managed to strike a debonair pose in spite of his injuries.
‘This way.’ He removed his hand with its bruised knuckles from his pocket and waved his visitor into the room.
Helen took a decisive step forwards. Over her rotting corpse would these two spend time together privately under this roof.
‘Not you, old love,’ said Greg.
The door swung shut in her face.
God, she was beautiful. Older, of course, but so what? With a thickened figure, too, but again, so what? A girlish figure might be smooth and eager and downright flexible, but a womanly figure was there to be worshipped. And by the stars, he was ready and willing to worship this one.
He ached to tell her so. He said, ‘Have a seat.’
‘I assume all those cushions are for your benefit.’
‘To keep the invalid propped up.’
She sat, and did she take a moment to settle her skirts around her so as not to meet his eyes? He lowered himself onto the sofa, holding his breath against a hiss of pain.
She looked at him and his heart turned over. Her husband wouldn’t have let her come if he had any inkling of what was going on in her cousin’s head.
‘What happened?’ she asked. ‘It’s said you were attacked.’
He shrugged. His shoulder muscles twinged darkly. ‘I was attacked.’
‘What do the police say?’
‘They haven’t been invited to say anything.’ He raised his hand to silence her, a swift gesture – too swift – and he fought not to wince as pain stabbed his strapped ribs. ‘I’d rather talk about you … about us.’
‘There is no us, and hasn’t been for a long time, not since …’
‘Not since Aunt Helen dragged you back here.’
The look she gave him took him by surprise. Such ice. Her eyes were no longer a hazy blue that he could have drowned in, but grey as smoke and, as everyone knew, where there was smoke, there was fire – and clearly, where there was fire, there was also ice.
‘I was going to say not since you went abroad when I needed you most.’
‘That was because—’
‘I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to be told you changed your mind or were bought off by my family.’
‘I would never—’
‘Neither do I want to be told you couldn’t bear the separation and the only answer was to drown your sorrows in the finest French wines. You abandoned me and they prevailed upon me to marry my first husband.’ Was it his imagination or did a shudder ripple through her? ‘We had our chance.’
‘We had two chances.’ Oh yes, they had had another chance. She had been this close – this close – to leaving Henry.
‘No, we didn’t. Not once I found out about your way of life.’
He leant forward, twangs of pain intertwining themselves with the anguish of his memories. Before he could speak, she forestalled him.
‘I want to talk about Eleanor. I’ve come to warn you off. I saw the way you looked at her after the funeral.’
‘Of course I looked at her. How could I not? She’s lovely. God, it was like looking at you all those years ago.’
‘You couldn’t take your eyes off her.’
‘Only to look at you.’
‘I mean it, Greg. You’re not to come near. You’re handsome and charming, and I won’t put her at risk. My husband knows nothing of you and me. He’s never understood why I don’t keep up the connection with Aunt Helen and he won’t understand when I don’t admit you to our circle. I want your word that you won’t make it difficult for me. There can’t be any contact between Jackson’s House and Ees House.’
‘I shan’t be setting up shop here. Aside from the fact that I’d swallow my razor sooner than have old Helen as a bunk-mate, I’m in need of funds and I’m more likely to win what I need in London or Paris.’
‘You’re in debt. How bad is it?’
‘I raised a considerable sum in anticipation of the old boy’s death, happy in the belief that my inheritance would enable me to pay everything back as well as setting me up. Unfortunately, I have to wait for Helen to die as well. I considered renting out this place, but it’s been made clear to me,’ and he indicated his injuries with a rueful tilt of his head, ‘that that wouldn’t pay off my commitments speedily enough.’
‘Oh, Greg.’
It came out in a thread of anguish that made even the bruised ribs worthwhile. His heart sang and the blood throbbed in his veins. She had always had this effect on him, always had, always would. When she left, he would die another death, but he would willingly die a thousand deaths for these few minutes in her presence.
They looked at one another, the past aching between them.
‘I must go.’
‘Not yet.’
‘I must.’ She went to the door, readied herself, then flung it open. ‘Just checking whether Aunt Helen had her ear glued to the keyhole.’
A roar of laughter ended in a deep groan as his ribs threatened to shatter. He pulled himself to his feet, straining to disguise the effort.
‘I’ll see you out.
’
‘There’s no need. Ring the bell.’
‘There’s every need. It will infuriate Helen. Just because she didn’t fall flat on her face into the room doesn’t mean she isn’t hovering nearby.’
He followed her across the hall, filling his eyes with her innate grace, her proud bearing. Pain be buggered, he stood inches taller, invigorated by her nearness, though the elusive whiff of her perfume was enough to make his knees buckle. They were made for each other. He had never doubted it, even though she had twice married someone else.
Then she was gone and he died another death.
Nathaniel glanced up as Alistair walked into his office at the clinic. ‘I’ve just seen our Miss Maitland setting off in a rather spiffy motor,’ said Alistair. ‘I asked Mrs Winter and apparently the fellow in the driving seat is Mr Charlie Kimber.’
‘Kimber?’ Nathaniel’s ears pricked up. ‘As in – Kimber?’
‘Mrs Winter says he’s her cousin, though she made cousin sound like secret code for married lover.’
‘I’m not sure I like the sound of a Kimber connection.’
‘You just don’t like being reminded of our reliance on Lady Kimber’s committee. But it’s not as though Miss Maitland tried to use the connection to get this job. Give her credit for that.’ Alistair sat down, leaning his elbows on the desk. ‘I saw Palmer last night. The PIP people have got back in touch. It seems the means test chap put their backs up by telling the world that PIP won’t support any schemes the means test turns down, and they’re prepared to give us another look.’
Nathaniel exhaled softly. ‘PIP funding would lessen our dependence on the Lady Bountiful Committee.’
‘They want to send a Duncan Swayne here next Tuesday. Can you be here? I don’t like to put upon you when you’ve got your responsibilities at home. How’s your sister getting on?’
‘Doing well, all things considered. She’s been through the mill, poor girl.’
‘But?’ Alistair prompted. ‘I thought I detected a “but”.’
‘If you were expecting me to say “but she brought it on herself”, I wouldn’t dream of it. No one deserves to be forcibly fed or to have their gullet-lining torn. I just hope she’ll step back from her cause now.’
‘Some people find something they believe in and after that there’s no stopping them.’
‘I know. Votes for women has been Evie’s crusade.’
‘I’m sorry, old chap, did you think I was talking about your sister? I meant you. It must run in the family.’
Nathaniel watched Alistair get up and leave the room.
He and Evie – the same? What tripe.
Duncan Swayne was a hearty man, who looked like everyone’s favourite uncle, but he had a keen mind. His questions were shrewd and his examination of the paperwork thorough.
‘You’re doing good work here, Doctor. I noticed in the diary you have a baby clinic this morning. Is it well attended?’
‘Come and see for yourself. A member of staff started a new initiative only last week.’
Miss Maitland had no notion she was about to get an important visitor, but Nathaniel had no qualms about dropping Swayne on her. If he had learnt one thing about Mary Maitland, it was that she could be relied upon, and he had no doubt she had planned this get-together meticulously.
He opened the door and nodded his approval. This was better than having a line of women sitting on chairs in the passage. Now they sat round a table, drinking tea and chatting, rocking sleeping babies and jiggling waking ones. Small children were playing – good grief, was that a toy box? Miss Maitland circled the table, topping up the cups. He caught her eye and beckoned her with a tilt of his chin. She was a pretty girl and that light in her eyes said she was enjoying herself.
He performed the introductions.
Swayne frowned. ‘I’m not sure you should keep these women from their domestic duties with tea and chit-chat.’
‘It’s not chit-chat,’ said Miss Maitland. ‘Well, some of it is, obviously, but it’s useful things too. Mrs Shaw’s linoleum is cracking, so I told her about putting ground-up cork in the glue to mend it, and these women can only afford cracked eggs, but they didn’t know about using salt to prevent the white seeping out in the pan. I’ve promised to bring my mother’s recipe for home-made soap flakes next time.’
‘So you’re educating them.’
‘I wouldn’t say that.’
‘I would.’ Swayne turned to Nathaniel as if Miss Maitland no longer existed. ‘I’m impressed with what I’ve seen this morning, Doctor, and PIP would be happy to receive an application from your clinic, on the understanding, of course, that these education sessions cease immediately. I would remind you that I stands for Ignorant. So, which is it to be: funding, or education disguised as chit-chat?’
‘You’re worried about your advice sessions, aren’t you?’ said Charlie.
‘It would be a shame if they stopped,’ said Mary, ‘but the clinic has to be funded.’
Was he about to place his hand over hers? They were in their tea shop, their special place. She had now spent several dinner hours with him, rather to her surprise. That first time, she had assumed it was a generous impulse on his part, possibly encouraged by Angela and Josephine, but he had turned up the next day as well. Since then he never dropped her off without making another arrangement.
‘We’ll have to fill your diary with lunch engagements in case your spirits need lifting,’ said Charlie.
‘I can’t think of anyone who’d do a better job of cheering me up. You’re fun to be with.’
‘Not witty, not debonair, but fun.’
‘Are you fishing for compliments?’
He laughed. ‘It wouldn’t do me any good if I were. It’s one of the things I like about you. I don’t have your automatic approval. You’ve opened my eyes about your family. Until now, all I knew about the Maitlands was how your grandmother hoodwinked Great-Uncle Martin.’
‘She didn’t force him to run off with her.’
Charlie grinned. ‘She didn’t throw him over her shoulder and make a dash for the horizon?’
‘I’m serious.’ But she smiled. She smiled a lot when she was with Charlie. ‘It’s not always easy being the poor relations. We have to be the last word in respectability, never doing anything that reflects badly on the Kimbers. My father would throw forty fits if he knew I was here with you.’
‘Then why are you here?’
His eyes, in which she was accustomed to seeing warmth and humour, were earnest and questioning. She quivered inside.
‘If I’m not your idea of a Maitland, you aren’t mine of a Kimber. At the agency, you treated me the same as the others, and I appreciate the way you’ve encouraged me at the clinic.’
‘So you’re not here for my irresistible charm and good looks?’
‘Don’t tease.’
‘If you were, I wouldn’t mind, because that’s why I’m here.’
It felt like standing on the edge of a cliff. ‘For my good looks and charm?’
‘You’re beautiful, Mary. You’re clever and determined, but there’s also something vulnerable about you. Put all that together and I find you utterly beguiling.’
The office door opened and Nathaniel walked in. Mary’s cheeks flooded, as if he could tell what Charlie had said to her. She had felt fluttery ever since. Charlie liked her. He liked her. She liked him too – she had done from the start, but she had never considered him in that way. But if he liked her … and they got along so well …
‘Afternoon, ladies. I’ve come to tell you that Doctor Cottrell and I have decided against applying for PIP funding. Your mothers’ gatherings can continue, Miss Maitland.’
‘I’m delighted to hear it, Doctor,’ said Mrs Winter and Mary looked at her in surprise. ‘Funding is important, but so is education, especially in a community like this. This is a chance to feed useful information into homes where it could make a difference.’
‘Of course, if it doesn’
t make a difference, we’ll think again,’ said Nathaniel, ‘so you’ve got your work cut out, Miss Maitland.’
‘Yes, Doctor.’ But she was too astonished by Mrs Winter’s support to feel pleased.
When Nathaniel left, Mrs Winter returned to her work. Mary watched her. Were they supposed to pretend nothing had happened?
‘Thank you for what you said. I had no idea you approved.’
‘That’s hardly surprising, is it?’ Mrs Winter put down her pen. ‘I owe you an apology. I didn’t want you here, but now I can see you’ve taken a real interest and I respect that.’ Her shoulders dropped and the words came tumbling out. ‘I wanted my friend to get the job. As former nurses, we’d have such insight into the work. It’s not easy losing your job when you marry.’
Ah yes, the woman in bottle-green being shepherded into the waiting room. ‘You used to be a nurse?’
‘A sister, but now I’m not allowed to do nursing at all – simply because I’m married. I’m not even allowed to give advice here, except about hygiene, and then only if someone specifically asks for it. Otherwise I could be reported. That’s why you have to run the mothers’ gatherings: so no one can accuse me of using my knowledge to help people.’
‘That’s ridiculous. It must be frustrating.’
‘A word of advice.’ Mrs Winter pinned her down with her gaze. ‘Think carefully about your future. If you marry and have a family, that’s all well and good. I didn’t marry until my middle years. I lost my position and no children came along, so I lost out on both counts.’
‘Are you saying marry young or never marry?’
‘I’m saying you can’t guarantee what you’ll get. You can only be certain of what you have to give up. A sad truth, but bear it in mind.’
Eleanor looked enchanting in a flared skirt of dusty-rose, trimmed with dainty velvet bows above the hemline, and an ivory lawn blouse, its stand-up collar showing off her slender throat. Lady Kimber felt a swell of pride. Eleanor was her shining star.
The Poor Relation Page 15