Home is Just a Feeling

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Home is Just a Feeling Page 8

by Lesley Hudnott


  ~~~

  Since Monday morning would be busy for Elfie and Jack, I kept mainly to my room after breakfast. Spacious as it was, there was a comfortable, homely ambiance about it that was most welcome on a blustery Autumn day. Nursing a cup of coffee, from my third-floor vantage point I could see the hive of activity on the gravelled horseshoe drive below. As huge as Four Lawns mansion was, I marvelled at the vast numbers of people now leaving. I certainly did not remember encountering so many fellow guests. I could see Jack as he supervised the loading of luggage, by a team of uniformed chauffeurs, into the capacious boots of sleek, gleaming, luxury gas-guzzlers. Whilst this was happening, Elfie shook hands with the car owners, sometimes hugging, always smiling and chatting. What a team they made, their well-honed routine quite something to behold.

  Beth knocked lightly, cheerily wishing me a good morning on entering my room. As she worked, I sized up “the opposition”. Petite. Tick. Pretty little doe-eyed face. Tick. Shapely legs. Tick. I already knew that she could style hair and apply make-up expertly, almost at the speed of light. And, judging by the way my room now appeared after so short a time, I bet myself that her own home was pristine. Try as I did, though, Beth was impossible to dislike. In the end, I offered her coffee.

  As we sat drinking, Beth seemed to relax a little. “Mrs. Patterson doesn’t really like staff fraternising too much with her guests, Madam. I can’t imagine what she’d say if she could see me now, having coffee with you. I’d probably be dismissed.”

  “Oh, surely not, Beth.” I could not picture my friend dismissing anyone. Then again, I had known nothing of all this until a few days ago. There was obviously much more to Elfie Patterson than had met my eye.

  “Oh yes, Madam. I was lucky to get this job in the first place. They’re never really advertised, it’s mainly a case of knowing someone who knows someone, if you get my meaning.” I got her meaning very clearly. And, of course, the question had to be asked.

  “And who did you know, Beth?” I trilled as lightly and casually as I could, already knowing the answer.

  “Well, Madam, I didn’t want to leave home and there aren’t many opportunities around here. So, when this job was in the offing, well, if you can’t rely on your big brother to help…”

  “Oh, how lovely. Now that’s what I call a decent brother. And whereabouts does he work?”

  Beth grinned broadly. “You’ve met him, Madam. Jack Jackson, the chauffeur.”

  I was stunned. “But, you look nothing alike. Nothing at all.”

  Oh, God. Oh, Happy Day! I suddenly felt so elated I could have hugged her.

  “I know. Jack’s mum died fairly young. His, our, dad remarried and they had me. Jack took after his dad and I favoured my mum. He’s a wonderful brother, though, always looks out for me. You wouldn’t believe what a scrawny, unkempt boy he was, would you? Still, Mrs Patterson must have seen some potential in him. She was right, too, wasn’t she, Mrs Harrington? I’m ever so proud of him.” Beth took our cups and washed them. “If there’s nothing else, Madam, I’d better be on my way now. Thanks for coffee. Would you mind, I wonder, if this could please be just between the two of us?”

  “Of course, Beth.” We grinned conspiratorially. “And perhaps, maybe over another coffee, you would call me Cassie.”

  Beth smiled, winked and was gone.

  EIGHTEEN

  By Wednesday evening I had seen and experienced pretty much all that Four Lawns had to offer, although Elfie’s reason for referring to the place as “Forlorn” remained unknown. I had thought that her parents had packed her off here to learn the value of hard work and, hopefully, banish her “wild-child” ways, and she had not contradicted me. In truth, the mansion was not too far from a village, although, with its vast lawns and long winding drive, I supposed it could seem fairly remote, especially for someone used to a party lifestyle.

  Four Lawns. Choc-a-bloc with more luxury than I could ever have imagined, the mansion gave guests a choice of three gymnasia, indoor and outdoor swimming pools, hair salons, and other salons that offered pampering treatments so diverse I struggled to pronounce some of their names. I did, however, thoroughly enjoy a mud bath, massage, and a seaweed wrap during my stay. Four Lawns also boasted its own range of luxury toiletries, deliciously fragranced herbal and floral concoctions that cost a small fortune. “It’s all psychology, Cass,” Elfie had informed me, handing me a large box of the choicest pampering products. “These toiletries, although top quality, don’t really cost a mint to produce. At first, we packaged them “country-style”. You know, little baskets, that kind of thing. But they hardly sold. In fact, one guest thought they looked a bit “down-market”. So, we repackaged them and considerably upped the prices. Same products, Cass, but they sell like hotcakes now.”

  ~~~

  “You’re not telling me everything, are you Elfie?” We were having coffee in her apartment. Elfie stared out of the living room window on the dull, grey Thursday morning. It was raining and the fallen Autumn leaves were gradually turning to mush on the front lawn. “I must get that lot raked up before this weekend, Cass. Sorry, dear, what did you say?”

  Repeating my words, I added, “I want to know what you’re keeping back. You specifically invited me here to tell me everything. So, tell me.”

  “I know, but I’m not sure where to begin. I suppose I’m afraid you might be ashamed of me. There, that’s the truth of it.”

  “Well, I can’t see why I would. And you could begin by explaining why you refused to allow me entry to the smaller wing, at the back, yesterday. You were so adamant that, if I didn’t know you, I’d swear you had something to hide. And, while we’re at it, I don’t recall encountering over the weekend anything like as many people as left here on Monday.”

  “Crikey. You don’t miss much, do you?”

  “No, just like you. In fact, we could almost be family.”

  “We are.”

  “We are what?”

  “Family. Well, you wanted to know everything. And for goodness’ sake, Cassie, close your mouth. You’ll be catching flies in a minute.”

  I was lost for words. For a few moments I just sat, staring at Elfie, trying to see any familial resemblance. “We can’t be.” Elfie assured me that we were. Slowly, my befuddled brain began to work again. “Well, you’re not my mother, because I know who she is. Was. Are you, are you seriously telling me that Mr. Shepherd’s my father?” Elfie did not deny it.

  “I can’t actually confirm it, because it’s George’s story to tell, not mine. Then again, since you have such an astute mind…”

  “But there’s no father mentioned on my birth certificate.”

  Elfie let out a long sigh. “Look, my dear, it was all quite a while ago and things were managed very differently. We were quite an important family back then, and my parents were very status-orientated. Of course, everyone knew what was going on, but…”

  I interrupted her. “As long as everything was swept under the carpet, things carried on as usual. Basically, it wasn’t so much what you did as what you were caught doing. Right?”

  “Or caught out for having done. Yes, that’s about it. I was never told who your mother was, but I do know that my brother adored her. There was never anyone else for him and, as you know, he never married. Your mother was the one.”

  “So why didn’t he marry her? Hell, he must have known how things would have been for her!”

  “He couldn’t marry her for the simple reason that my family packed him off to America for six months or so. They believed the marriage would have been a misalliance, that your mother could have been a “gold-digger”, so they threatened to disinherit him if it went ahead. And they certainly would have, too. He would have had no way to support a family. They, what’s the saying, stitched him up like the proverbial kipper.”

  “Still, anything would have been better than what she went through. Honestly, Elfie, you almost sound as though you support their stance.”

  “Not a chance,
I swear. Especially with what was to come my way a few months later.”

  I thought about Ivy. My mother. I knew in my heart that, while she would be glad that I finally knew the truth, she would not want old issues and troubles to be raked over again. In truth, as angry as I was at the Shepherd family just then, I mustered some compassion, sitting beside an obviously upset Elfie and placing an arm around her.

  “Come on now, don’t fret any more. Come on, Elfie, there’s nothing to be done about it now. Like you said, it was a long time ago and things were done differently then. It wasn’t your fault. Besides, you were sent here to work, to banish your wild ways, just a few months later. So, you couldn’t…”

  “Work? Work? Oh, I bloody worked, alright. Before and after. We all did.” Elfie’s face was a picture of raw anguish. “Listen, Cass, I don’t think I can continue this right now. Rehashing all the past, well, quite frankly it’s wearing me out. I can’t face lunch and, if I don’t rest, I’ll be too frazzled for dinner later. I’m sorry, I really am.”

  “Well, you can’t possibly just leave things like that.”

  Her mind made up, though, that was exactly what Elfie did.

  NINETEEN

  We left early on Friday morning, well before the new weekend’s guests started to arrive; Elfie wishing, or so she said, not to miss the next Silver Surfers meeting. Turning in the back seat for one more glance at Four Lawns, I sincerely hoped never to lay eyes on it again. Why Elfie kept returning was a mystery to me. Who knew? Perhaps she still felt some need to be punished for her “wild ways”, or maybe the mansion’s current use was her revenge on her old tormentors. If she herself knew, she never said.

  There was no conversation until we broke our lengthy journey at the same hotel at which we had lunched on the previous Friday. Just prior to alighting from the car, Elfie reached across and took my hand. “I’m sorry, Cassie. This hasn’t gone the way I’d hoped at all. It was meant to be a lovely relaxing break.” I raised my eyebrows. It had been anything but relaxing. “I know I needed to tell you things, I owed you that. But it was meant to show a sort of triumph over adversity, really. How things, lives even, can be turned around. And now, quite frankly, I just feel deflated. Perhaps it would be better to just sell the damned place and have done with it.” My own thoughts echoed hers.

  Continuing our journey after a lunch during which Elfie and I scarcely touched our food, I was lost in thought while Elfie just nodded off. These last few days had certainly taken their toll on her. To be charitable, it could have been the way in which the dull afternoon light caught her, but there was no denying the almost grey pallor on that normally cheery, rosy face. I envied her sleep, as I relived in my mind Jack’s and my conversation the previous afternoon.

  ~~~

  After lunch and a final wander around some of Four Lawn’s vast grounds, I had found myself sitting, once again, on the garden seat by the coppice. And, once again, Jack had strolled up the path towards me. This time, welcoming his company, I smiled warmly. Grinning as he approached, he assured me that there were no sandwiches or coffee this time.

  “That’s a shame,” I teased. “I wouldn’t mind a hot drink just now. It’s definitely chillier than Sunday.”

  “What are you like, Cassie Harrington? I can’t do right for doing wrong,” Jack teased back as those gorgeous eyes radiated amusement. “Seriously, though,” he continued, “Mrs. Patterson’s had a word. She wants me to finish the conversation you two were having earlier. I’m to tell you everything. Are you up for that?”

  “I certainly am. After all, that’s why she invited me along. I want the “warts and all” version please, Jack.”

  “Hmm. Perhaps, Cassie, it might be better if you tell me what you already know.”

  I told Jack all I knew about Elfie; the youthful “spirit parties”, that she was my old employer’s sister, our friendship, the yellow, pear-cut diamond ring. I dredged up everything I could think of, even that she’d been sent to Four Lawns to work and thus banish her wild ways.

  “I think you definitely have the wrong end of the stick there, Cassie. Mrs Patterson was sent here to have her baby.”

  My shock, and the ensuing few minutes of silence between us, was almost palpable.

  “Baby? What baby?” I held my head in my hands. Elfie had let me assume she was sent here to work because she was afraid I’d be ashamed of her. “Oh, dear God,” I groaned, “No wonder she called the place “Forlorn”. Who wouldn’t?”

  “She had a daughter. I suppose she’d be about your age. Conceived, apparently, at one of these parties; orgies, if you ask me. Her parents had just packed George off to America for getting someone pregnant, then this happens along.” Jack gestured towards the mansion, continuing, “Four Lawns used to be a convent, Cass. Young unmarried women were often packed off here to have their sprogs, and it is a considerable distance from Heatherbridge. Officially, these poor girls were “visiting an aunt”, but everyone knew what was really going on.”

  “Sweeping everything under the carpet. As long as indiscretions weren’t publicly acknowledged, they hadn’t happened, right?” Jack nodded. I asked, “Any idea who the father was?”

  Jack nodded again. “I gather it was some chap who’d gone off to London. By all accounts he never knew anything about the pregnancy and things had settled down by the time he’d returned, a few years later. I think there was a lot of ‘greasing of palms,’ as it were, to buy silence. Mrs. Patterson told me she’d only invited him to the party to annoy George. As I understand it, this chap, Smithers, I think his name was, really fancied the girl George was with.” Jack shrugged. “I suppose, somewhere along the line, alcohol played its part…”

  Smithers. Off to London. Had my uncle come home sooner, which one would he really have married? Ivy, the true love of his life but bearing George’s child, or Elfie, bearing his own? Like Albert himself, I would never know.

  ~~~

  The car purred to a smooth halt, in the same side road. As I gently nudged Elfie, instead of wakening, she flopped as far forward as her seatbelt allowed. Now, some take death in their stride, coping well whatever the circumstance. I was never able to. I briefly recalled my husband’s tragic road-accident death abroad, and how I went to pieces. I remembered that, mingled in with overwhelming grief, there was copious gratitude. Gratitude that others had, frankly, done everything. Even identifying Scott’s body, all I could manage was the briefest peek. Certainly, I had signed various paperwork, but that was about it, as far as I could remember. Funnily enough, it was around that time that Elfie had begun to weave herself more intensely into the fabric of my life.

  And now, Elfie Patterson was dead. Leaning forward in her seat. And, to my eternal shame, all I could do was wonder for how long I had sat next to a corpse. My limbs seemingly a mixture of lead and jelly, Jack eased me from the car and propped me against the wall. I silently thanked God for the inky blackness of the sky, rendering my poor friend’s face invisible to me. I always looked away at filmed death scenes, it was something to do with the victim’s eyes. Jack calmly and efficiently made calls, after which he wrapped his arms around me, cradling me like a baby as I soaked his chest with tears.

  In next to no time the police arrived and took over. Thankfully, the lateness of the hour meant that poor Elfie was spared the indignity of gawping villagers.

  ~~~

  Hefty thumping on the front door jolted me awake early on the Saturday morning. Well, seven-thirty seemed early, considering what Jack and I had endured the previous evening. Hauling myself from my armchair, I was surprised that Jack, curled up on the sofa, remained asleep.

  “Is it true, Cassie, is it true?” I stood back as Brenda Baxter bowled in. Briefly nodding and unable to shed any more tears, my gasp was audible as Brenda launched herself at me, hugging me in her vice-like grip. “How? When? What happened, exactly?” Unbeknown to Brenda, a tousled Jack now stood behind her.

  “For crying out loud, let her go, she’s turning puce! Ho
w on Earth do you expect a reply when she can scarcely breathe?” Suddenly cast aside like an unwanted toy, I gasped for air as Brenda’s steely gaze directed itself at Jack.

  “And who are you?”

  “Jackson Jackson. And who are you?”

  Another time this would have been quite funny. “Come on you two, sit down.” Having introduced each to the other, I went to make coffee and toast, opening the kitchen door for some welcome fresh air. A little later, the atmosphere having risen from frosty to almost room temperature, Jack asked how Brenda knew about Elfie’s demise. “Sam Collins, a few doors down from me. He always takes his dog out just before bedtime. You can be sure that the whole village will know by now.”

  Jack hid his tetchiness behind a brief smile. “Well, Mrs. Baxter, I’m afraid we can add nothing as yet to the village gossip machine. When there’s more to report, rest assured you’ll be the first to know. Or Mr. Collins, perhaps.” Completely unperturbed by Brenda’s death stare, Jack sauntered towards the front door.

  “Before I’m ushered out, may I ask how you and Mr. Jackson know each other, Cass?” That Brenda was now so obviously scrabbling for gossip mildly irritated me and I began to understand why Jack had offered no personal details at all. “Oh, you know. “Just good friends”, as the saying goes. ‘Bye, Brenda, and thanks for calling. Listen, we’ll have a proper chat later.” As I reached to hold her she pulled away.

 

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