Tom nodded, his face set in grim lines. ‘It sounds like it. They’ve already done a number of skin grafts – but I’ll know more tomorrow. I’m going to catch the first train out in the morning and go down to Portsmouth.’
‘May I come too?’
He stared into Sunday’s anxious face. ‘Of course, if Cissie here can manage on her own.’
‘She won’t have to, I’ll be here to help,’ Lavinia said as she joined them. ‘You two just shoot off and pack an overnight case. It’s too far to travel there and back in one day. We’ll be fine, won’t we, Cissie, my love? You just go and give Ben what comfort you can and tell him we’re all longing for the day when he can come home.’
Tom had a lump in his throat that prevented him from speaking. It was so unfair, he thought. Why couldn’t it have been him? Ben was so young to have to bear something so horrible. He had his whole life in front of him. But that was war for you. It was no respecter of age or circumstance, and Ben was just one of hundreds of thousands of young men who had suffered the same fate or worse.
Raising a grateful smile for Lavinia and Cissie he limped away to get out his travelling case, and Sunday went with him.
Chapter Fifty-One
May 1918
‘Right, m’ ladyship, get your arse out of that bed right now!’ Miss Fox stamped across the room and swished Ruby’s curtains aside. ‘It’s halfway through the afternoon and it’s high time you got up!’ Her eyes rested on the empty sherry bottle at the side of Ruby’s bed. Things had been going steadily downhill for months, with Ruby sinking into a deep depression. No doubt they should be grateful that as yet they had escaped the Zeppelin raids. Many other areas in London had not been so lucky. But that wasn’t the only worry she had now. Earlier that morning the cook had presented her with a pile of unpaid bills.
‘The butcher is saying he won’t deliver any more meat till this is settled,’ she’d fretted. ‘And most of the other tradesmen are putting their foot down, including the dairy, the grocer’s and the coal man, though that’s not so important now the weather is changing for the better. I’m sorry to trouble you with this, Miss Fox. The mistress usually sees to all the bills, as you know, but she hasn’t been well of late, has she.’
‘Leave it with me,’ Miss Fox had told her, taking the bills from the woman’s hand, and she had then closeted herself away to go through them. She’d been appalled when she’d seen how much they amounted to, and how many months old they were, and now it was time to have it out with Ruby.
She waited until Ruby had dragged herself up onto the pillows, looking, Miss Fox thought, like death warmed up, but she had run out of sympathy. Taking the pile of bills from her pocket she waved them at her, saying, ‘What’s going on here then? The tradesmen are refusing to deliver to us any more until these are settled. Why haven’t they been paid?’
Ruby rubbed her forehead, which was throbbing. ‘Oh, Foxy, go away, I can’t be doing with things like that right now.’
‘I’m going nowhere till I’ve had an explanation,’ Miss Fox retorted sternly. ‘Just look at the state of you! You should be ashamed. Kitty and Maggie are doing all the housework since the maids left. That’s saved on wages for a start, so what’s the problem? And where is the money coming from now anyway to keep us afloat?’ It was clearly Kitty who was bringing the money in, but it was what she might be having to do to earn it that concerned Miss Fox.
Ruby snapped, ‘Why don’t you mind your own business? Give the bloody bills here and I’ll see that they’re paid.’
‘Better still, you can give me the money and I’ll pay them.’ Miss Fox stood hands on hips as she glared at her and sensing that the game was up, Ruby played for time.
‘Very well. But I can’t give it to you this minute, can I? At least have the grace to let me get up.’
‘Very well. I’ll see you downstairs in ten minutes,’ Miss Fox answered waspishly and turning about, she stamped from the room.
She found Maggie downstairs in the drawing room polishing the sideboard and fixing a smile to her face she asked the girl, ‘How is Kitty today?’
Maggie shrugged. Kitty had been giving them both some cause for concern for a while now. All her sparkle had gone and she looked tired and drained all the time.
‘Oh, no better no worse.’ Maggie paused to look at Miss Fox, then making a decision, she said in a rush, ‘I think Mr Fitzherbert treats her diabolically.’ There, it was said even if it wasn’t her place to say it.
Strangely enough the older woman nodded in agreement. ‘I think you’re right, Maggie, and I wish we could get her away from him. But he seems to have some sort of hold on her.’
Maggie flushed. She knew exactly what that hold was. While Richard and his friends had possession of the photos that Kitty was ashamed of, he would always have her in his power, but Maggie had promised her friend that she would never tell Miss Fox about them and up to now she had kept her promise. They heard Ruby lumbering down the stairs then, and lifting the cleaning rags, Maggie hastily left the room and went in search of Kitty. She found her in the bathroom looking grievously ill and asked, ‘What’s wrong? Have you been sick?’
Kitty nodded as she swiped the back of her hand across her mouth. ‘Yes, I think I must have eaten something that disagreed with me. I’ll be fine now though.’
‘Hmm.’ Maggie wasn’t so sure but she left her then and went about her chores.
Downstairs, Miss Fox and Ruby were in the middle of another heated argument.
‘What do you mean, you haven’t enough to pay them all?’ Miss Fox demanded angrily. It looked like she was going to have to dip into her own savings yet again. ‘You don’t seem to object to paying the wine bills and they’re sky high!’
‘Oh, so you even begrudge me a drink now, do you?’ Ruby whimpered pathetically. ‘Even though that’s the only pleasure I have left.’
It hit Miss Fox like a blow then just how far Ruby had sunk. The music-hall bookings and her suitors had long since disappeared and now she looked a total wreck. She didn’t even bother to get dressed or brush her hair most days and her skin had taken on a curious yellow tinge, as had the whites of her eyes.
‘Just look at the state of you.’ There was anguish in Miss Fox’s voice. ‘If you carry on like this you’re going to kill yourself!’
Ruby shrugged. In truth, she didn’t much care. She was used to being pampered and adored, but now her lifestyle was slowly catching up with her and she couldn’t cope with not being everyone’s darling. Ruby thrived on attention but that was long gone and her only comfort now was found in a bottle.
‘Who would care if I did?’ she said and Miss Fox was enraged.
‘I would, for a start! And what about your daughter? She isn’t well herself but you haven’t even noticed, have you? You’re too wrapped up in self-pity to care for anyone but yourself and you should be ashamed.’ She took a deep breath then and tried to calm herself. This futile arguing was getting them nowhere. ‘Right, now let’s go through these bills together and deal with the most urgent ones first, shall we? Give me the key to the safe and we’ll see how much money is in there.’
The safe was positioned behind one of the gilded pictures on the wall and once Miss Fox had the key she unlocked it and withdrew what money was in it. She quietly counted it out before seeing what the bills amounted to, then turning to Ruby she told her, ‘We’re going to have to pawn or sell some of your jewellery.’
‘What!’ Ruby was clearly horrified. ‘Oh, Foxy, no, not my jewels!’
‘Do you have a better idea?’ Miss Fox said. ‘I can help out a little with what I have left of my savings, but it will be nowhere near enough to clear this lot.’ She spread her hands to encompass the bills scattered across the table. ‘And that safe is fair bulging with baubles – far more than you need.’
Ruby pouted like a spoiled child and just for an instant Miss Fox spotted the lively young woman she had once been and she softened. ‘Come along, we’ll go through them t
ogether and that way you can keep your favourite pieces,’ she suggested encouragingly. ‘Then we’re going to have to cut our cloth accordingly even if it means moving to a smaller house as I originally suggested. We’ve obviously been living above our means and we rattle around in this place anyway now.’
Her face set in a sullen moue, Ruby watched as the older woman carried a number of small boxes to the table and began to open them. There were rubies, diamonds, sapphires, emeralds and pearls – all bought by Ruby’s one-time admirers.
‘See?’ Miss Fox sighed. ‘There are far more here than you could ever wear anyway, so choose the ones you like most and want to keep.’
Ruby’s hand shot out like a greedy child’s and within seconds the majority of the boxes were piled up in front of her.
‘I’m sorry, love, but that’s too many,’ Miss Fox said patiently. ‘Let’s try again.’ Eventually she had a number of very high-class jewellery items selected and rising with her booty, she told Ruby, ‘There’s no time like the present, is there? I’m going to the pawnshop right now to see what I can get for them.’
Ruby was clearly very far from happy. ‘Then can you at least just pawn them? Please don’t sell them.’
‘And what would be the point in that? You and I both know that the chances of us ever being able to afford to redeem them are slim now. No, it will be far better if I sell them, but don’t worry, I’m no fool and I’m not about to let them go for a pittance.’ She then gathered the bills together too and sailed from the room as Ruby watched her go with a deep frown on her face. Interfering old cow! she thought, then crossing to the decanter she poured a generous measure of brandy into a glass and tossed it back in one go.
By the time Miss Fox returned almost two hours later, Ruby was merry again. ‘Did you get a good price for the jewels?’ she immediately enquired, holding out her hand for the cash before the other woman had barely had time to enter the room.
Miss Fox removed her hat and patted the sparse grey bun perched at the nape of her neck. ‘I most certainly did, but it’s no use asking for the money. I’ve paid all the bills up to date on the way back, so there’s precious little left, and from now on we’re going to count our pennies like everyone else is having to do. I shall be responsible for the household expenses in future, and the first thing I shall be cutting back on is the wine bill. That was the highest of them all. You’re actually paying a great sum of money to kill yourself!’
When Ruby looked as if she was about to throw a tantrum Miss Fox then turned and calmly left the room, but could Ruby have known it her stomach was churning. She had managed to avert a crisis this time – but what would they do when the jewels were all sold? Perhaps they could sublet some of the rooms to lodgers? And Cook had been saying for a while that she was thinking of retiring to the country to live with her widowed brother. That would save another wage, although it would mean yet more work for Maggie and Kitty, not that they ever complained. Heaving a lengthy sigh, Phyllis Fox hurried off to find somewhere quiet where she could think things through in peace.
That same day at Treetops, Sunday and Tom were welcoming the first of their evacuees from London. A few families had written to them asking if they would be prepared to take their children into a safe place for the duration of the war. Their fathers were all away fighting and their mothers were now working, so Sunday was happy to oblige. She could only imagine how terrifying it must be to have bombs dropping out of the sky so close to them, and her maternal instinct rushed to the fore as George delivered the children to her after picking them up from the railway station.
There was another set of twins, Henry and Harry, as alike as two peas in a pod, and then two little girls from two different families, Jenny and Nancy. The twins were five years old, the girls six and seven and they were all from the East End of London.
‘Cor blimey, missus, this place is massive! I reckon it’s as big as Bucking’am Palace!’ Harry greeted her, and Sunday grinned. She had an idea she was going to have her work cut out with these four. They certainly weren’t shy. Ben chose that moment to wander around the corner of the house then and immediately all four pairs of eyes turned to him and the children openly had a good look at the disfigured side of his face. Sunday cringed. Ben was so self-conscious of his scars and still refused to venture outside the grounds of Treetops for fear of people staring at him and whispering. Even so, he had come a long way. When he had first returned home he would not even come out of his room.
‘You copped it there good an’ proper didn’t you, mate?’ Harry chirped and Ben seemed to shrink before her eyes. Turning about, he beat a hasty retreat without even bothering to answer.
‘So what’s up wiv ’im then?’ Harry enquired. ‘He’s an ’ero, ain’t he, so why should he be ashamed?’
Sunday had been about to scold him, not the best of starts, but saw then that Harry hadn’t meant any harm. He was just a very chatty five-year-old who saw things as they were.
‘Ben is very sad about the way he looks now,’ she explained instead. ‘So perhaps you could avoid staring at him or mentioning his scar, eh? Could you do that for me?’
Harry shrugged and glanced at his brother. ‘’S’pose so,’ he muttered, wondering what all the fuss was about. But then Tom, who Harry was sure was yet another war hero because he was leaning heavily on a stick and limping, was leading him inside, and in his excitement to see his new home he forgot all about Ben, for now at least.
‘Something tells me we’re going to have our hands full with our new charges,’ Sunday told Tom with a twinkle in her eye that evening when all the children were tucked safely in bed.
He nodded and grinned, thinking again what a shame it was that he and Sunday had never been blessed with a child of their own, although she had been a wonderful mother to so many others. But then he knew he should be grateful for what they had. Ben was home, thank God, even if it wasn’t the same Ben they had waved away to war. At one time, Tom had hoped his son might marry and produce grandchildren for him and Sunday to love, but the chances of that happening were slim now. Since he wouldn’t go past the gates of Treetops, how was he to meet any young ladies? So many young chaps had war wounds and permanent injuries, so he was not alone and had nothing to be ashamed of. On the contrary!
‘You don’t think the children will make Ben feel worse about his scars, do you?’ Sunday asked then.
Tom shook his head. ‘Not at all. I don’t wish to sound cruel but he’s got to come to terms with it sometime and the children might just help him do that. The boys think he’s a real hero!’
Sunday hoped that he would be proved to be right.
It had taken them months and months to nurse Ben back to health once he had come out of hospital, and his outer healing was almost as good as it would ever get. His inner healing, however, Tom feared would never take place. Ben still suffered from terrible nightmares where he was trapped in the trenches, covered in flies and rats, or of thrusting his bayonet into some young German’s heart on the battlefield. He had seen and suffered too much for a young chap his age, as had thousands of other young men, but that sadly was the cost of war and those who had so far survived it must pay that terrible price.
Chapter Fifty-Two
On a gloriously sunny morning in mid-June, Maggie found Kitty being sick into the lavatory yet again, and this time she had to voice her fear.
‘Kitty,’ she began tentatively. ‘You do know that you’ve missed another course, don’t you? How many is that now?’
‘Three,’ Kitty answered dully, before rinsing her mouth.
‘Then perhaps it’s time you went to see a doctor?’
‘No,’ the girl replied. ‘I think it’s time I spoke to Richard.’
‘Perhaps you should,’ Maggie agreed as she helped Kitty to sit down in her bedroom. Her friend had lost weight and there were dark circles beneath her lovely eyes. Maggie had suspected for some time that Kitty might be carrying a child but hadn’t dared to mention it, but now it co
uld be ignored no longer.
‘What do you think Richard will say?’
‘There’s not much he can say, is there?’ Kitty sighed. ‘He’ll just have to marry me, won’t he?’ It was many weeks since she had lain with anyone apart from Richard; the war had seen her suitors sent to fight or to live very different lives from before.
Maggie didn’t answer although she couldn’t really see him doing that unless someone held a gun to his head. Her greatest fear was what would happen to Kitty if he abandoned her. Even now she still thought the sun rose and set with him, and would not have a bad word said against him.
‘Then if that’s what you plan to do, perhaps it should be done as soon as possible?’ Maggie said sensibly. ‘You must be about three months pregnant already, which means you’ll be showing soon, so best get it over with and see what he says, eh?’
Kitty nodded. She had tried to convince herself that she’d missed her courses simply because she was a little run down, but she couldn’t deny the truth any longer. And although the last pregnancy had ended in miscarriage, she longed for this child, as it was Richard’s. They had been together now for several years; surely it was time for them to settle down? ‘I’ll do it today – in fact, I’ll go round there this very morning,’ she said resolutely and began to get ready.
It was only half past ten when she arrived at Richard’s house feeling rather apprehensive. How would he react to being told that he was going to be a father? she wondered.
The maid looked at her askance when she answered her knock on the door and muttered, ‘Oh … good mornin’, miss. I don’t reckon the master’s expectin’ you. He’s still abed. Would you care to come back later?’
‘No, that’s all right. It’s important that I see him. I’ll wait in the studio. Just pop up and tell him I’m here, would you?’ Kitty said as she began to take her gloves off. She hurried along the hallway, let herself into the studio to wait for Richard and made herself at home, leaving the door open behind her.
The Little Angel Page 40