Once You Have Found Him

by Esther Wyndham

  “I’m sorry I’m a little late, but the telephone went just as I was leaving.”

  “This is Lew.”

  Poppy liked his smile and his strong handclasp. He looked quite a bit older than Erika, whom she judged to be about her own age—he looked about thirty-five or thereabouts—and he had what she thought of as an “open air” face. He was bronzed and there were white wrinkles round his eyes where he had screwed them up, laughing perhaps, or looking into the sun.

  “What will you have?” he asked. “We are drinking gin fizzes.”

  “That’s just what I’d like, thank you.”

  He ordered the drink for her and then began, “Erika has told me what you have offered to do for us, miss ...? I’m sorry, I don’t know your name...”

  “Duncan. Poppy Duncan.”

  “May I call you Poppy?”

  “Please do,” she said with a smile. She knew at once that he was going to get round her, that all her misgivings about doing wrong would be swept aside because she liked him so much and instinctively trusted him. “Why on earth won’t her father let her marry him?” she asked herself. “Erika’s probably right. It is because he’s a snob and wants her to become Lady Hanbridge one day.”

  “Well, I’m not going to allow you to do it, Poppy,” Lew said to her surprise. “It’s too much to ask of you. I don’t know how Erika could have suggested it,” but he smiled at Erika as he said this to soften his words. “But we want Very badly to give you this money you need just the same. We’ve got it right here.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

  “If you prefer it, it shall be a loan,” he said.

  “It’s too sweet of you,” Poppy said, quite overcome, “but I couldn’t possibly take it unless I did something in return, and now I’ve met you and seen you together I would like to do it—I would like to help you if I can.”

  “Didn’t I tell you what a darling she was?” Erika broke in, but Lew was still not satisfied. “We don’t want you to feel that you are under any obligation,” he said. “It’s such a big thing to ask you to do.”

  “I should like to do it,” Poppy said again. “I only wish I could do it for nothing, but it must be understood that the money is a loan.”

  Erika began to protest, but Lew could see that Poppy was adamant on this point, so he silenced, her by saying, “All right, have it your own way.”

  “How long will I have to keep up this—this—pretence?” Poppy asked.

  “Only a week,” Erika said quickly. “I was going down there on Monday. The races start on Tuesday and go on the whole week and then I was by the way staying over the week-end ... But how will you get away?” she suddenly asked anxiously.

  “That’s all right, I’m starting my fortnight’s holiday tomorrow.”

  “You are an angel. One day we’ll do something for you to make up, won’t we, Lew?”

  “We most certainly shall. You’ll never know how grateful we are.”

  “As I said before, I wish I could do it for you for nothing,” Poppy replied with a smile. “But what if they find me out at once?”

  “They won’t. Why should they?” Erika said reassuringly. “They’ll meet you at the station. You’ll have my luggage with my labels on it. You are my age, my build. This is your first visit to England and you’re starry-eyed about everything. Our families were connected generations ago and we don’t know anything about each other now at all. We live in Johannesburg most of the year but we’ve also got a house at White River and a little place by the sea at St. James’—that’s near the Cape ... I’ve got photographs here for you to see ... I’m an only child, I went to school...” and she rattled off details about herself and her family which Poppy carefully memorized. Some things she jotted down. Lew lent her a pencil and paper and she covered two whole sheets with notes.

  “You’ll have to practise being me all the week-end,” Erika said. “I wish I could take you back to the hotel and let you try on my things to see how they fit, but it wouldn’t do for Dad to see you there. I’m sure they’ll fit though ... Now you won’t need anything of your own. Dad is bound to come and see me off at Victoria. Take a ticket to Pulborough and be on the eleven-eighteen train. Will you write that down? We’ll change belongings on the train, even down to our handbags. I’ll get off at Horsham where the train stops and where Lew will meet me, and you will go on to Pulborough as me.”

  “Where will you go?” Poppy asked.

  “We’ll come back to London. Lew will have a special licence and we’ll get married at once.”

  “I must have somewhere where I can get hold of you in case something goes wrong,” Poppy said.

  “I’ll work that out and give you an address and telephone number when we meet on the train ... And where can I get hold of you in case there is some hitch before Monday?”

  Poppy gave them the telephone number of her flat. “And where can I contact you in the week-end in case something goes wrong my end?” she asked.

  “Let’s meet here Sunday evening at six,” Lew said, “and if by any chance any of us can’t make it we can leave a message here ... Let’s have another drink to celebrate.”

  The conspiratorial atmosphere was really rather exciting now, and much to her surprise Poppy found that she was enjoying herself, as she liked Lew and Erika so much. There was something so natural and what she might call “wholesome” about them that they were a joy to be with—and then they were so very much in love and seemed so united in their devotion.

  It was not until she was by herself again on her way to give Mary the money that the full enormity of what she had undertaken came over her. It was Friday to-day. There were only two more days and then she would be embarking on this terrifying adventure. By Monday she would find herself an impostor in the house of a well-known English family. How could she do it? At the mere idea her inside seemed suddenly to be turned to water. Her spirit quailed. For reassurance she opened her bag secretly and felt the bundles of five-pound notes that were stuffed in there, but they did not comfort her—rather the reverse. Because she had taken them there was no getting out of it. Lew had said that she mustn’t feel herself to be under an obligation, but of course she was. She couldn’t help feeling it. Because she had taken the money she was committed.

  For the first time she began to think of the place where she was going. What had she heard or read about Hanbridge Court and the Hanbridges? Hanbridge Court was one of the historic British houses now open to the public on certain days of the week; that was all she knew about it. If she had ever seen a picture of it she had forgotten it, and she did not know at what period it had been built. As for the family itself, she had often seen their name in the paper. Romilly Hanbridge, the eldest son whom Erika’s father wanted her to marry, was well known as a young man about town. He played polo in the summer at Cowdray Park and went to all the smart parties. She had also read somewhere that he was a very brilliant young barrister. The daughter, Philippa, had come out last year. She had been one of the prettiest debutantes of the season and a dance had been given for her at Londonderry House. So much she remembered ... What on earth was she, Poppy, going to do in such a household? Something very like panic seized her. She couldn’t go through with it. She would go back to the Dover Buttery on Sunday at six and return the money and say that she was very sorry but that it was quite out of the question for her to do it.

  But the moment she saw Mary her mood changed again and she knew that there was nothing she would not do for the sake of this little sister of hers. Mary’s terrible anxiety showed itself in her pinched features and the lines of fatigue under her eyes, and Jack did not look much better. Neither of them had slept a wink all night.

  Poppy did not keep them in any suspense. She took the money out of her bag and handed it to Jack. Mary flung herself into her arms, crying with joy and relief, but Jack hung his head. “What can I say?” he asked miserably. “I will pay it back to you as soon as ever I can.”

  “I am sure you w
ill,” Poppy said crisply.

  “How did you get it?” Mary asked.

  “I’ve got two very good friends.”

  “What can I say?” Jack asked again. He had put his arm round Mary’s waist now and her head was on his shoulder. “It will never happen again,” and for some reason—perhaps it was the way he said it or the look in his eyes—Poppy knew that this was the truth. Maybe this terrible trouble he had got himself into would prove a blessing in disguise. Maybe it was the one lesson he needed. Well, anything was worth it for Mary’s happiness—even the price that she herself must now pay—this terrible week that lay ahead of her in which she must become an impostor. There was no getting out of it now. She had burnt her boats by giving them the money. She was irrevocably committed.

  CHAPTER TWO

  “THE weather forecast is good and the glass is going up,” Lord Hanbridge said at breakfast on Monday morning.

  “Hooray,” Philippa exclaimed, “it will be fine for Goodwood.”

  Goodwood meant a great deal each year to the Hanbridges, not so much because of the racing as because it was a traditional party. Except for the war years there had always been a house-party at Hanbridge Court for Goodwood Week, and every member of the family did his or her best to be there.

  “Romilly, are you going to meet Erika?” Lord Hanbridge asked.

  “If you want me to,” Romilly replied without putting down the paper he was reading.

  “Yes, I should like you to. She is arriving at twelve-thirty.” Lord Hanbridge picked up his letters and went out, leaving Romilly and Philippa alone in the dining-room.

  “Do you want me to come too, Rom?” Philippa asked.

  “You’ve got to come. I’m not going without you.”

  “Are you nervous?”

  “Nervous of what?”

  “You know what’s expected of you, don’t you?”

  “Don’t be idiotic.”

  “I should be wild with excitement if it were a rich male cousin coming here expecting to marry me.”

  “You’re not to talk like that, Pip.”

  “And you’re not to go and fall for her. I want you for Nicole.”

  “Can’t you go and do something instead of staying here irritating me?” her brother asked.

  “There are lots of things I could do, but you know. I like teasing you better than anything in the world ... Come on, let’s go and swim.”

  “I’ll join you. I want to finish this article. Do be a good girl and leave me in peace.”

  Philippa darted away. She had more energy than she knew what to do with. Her high spirits were a joy to her family, though sometimes they found them a little bit overwhelming. At nineteen the golden vista of her life lay sparkling in front of her. She had been to Paris to be “finished,” she had “come out,” and now she was studying art, and hoped to make a living doing book illustrations. She had already had some slight success by designing the jacket for the book of a friend of hers who wrote novels. Her adored hero in life was her brother, Romilly, who was seven years older than herself. She had worshipped him ever since she could remember, and although she teased him a great deal about whom he should marry, it was in fact a question of tremendous importance to her. She was secretly terribly afraid that he would marry the wrong woman. In her mind she had reserved for him “the sweetest girl in the world,” Nicole Dubois, who was French and whom she had met in Paris; and at last Philippa was having an opportunity of bringing them together, for Nicole had been persuaded to come to England (she was terrified of the English Channel) and was coming to stay for Goodwood, arriving that evening. Philippa was frightened of the rivalry of their South African cousin but was even more frightened of a certain young widow, Daphne Cunningham, in whom Romilly seemed to be showing a dangerous amount of interest. For some reason Philippa was afraid to tease him about Mrs. Cunningham, which she knew to be a bad sign.

  When she left the dining-room she rushed upstairs to her mother. Lady Hanbridge had only coffee for breakfast, so she had it up in her own room and when Philippa went in she was sitting at her dressing-table taking the pins out of her hair. Directly one saw Lady Hanbridge one realized where the children got their exceptional good looks (for the two other boys and the other girl, still at school, who comprised the family, were also very good-looking). Lady Hanbridge at fifty had retained enough of her looks to make one understand her reputation for being one of the great beauties of all time. And it was not only her face that was still lovely but her whole personality. She had a sweetness and grace and a true kindness that endeared her to everyone she came across. Moreover she had the gift of being really interested in other people. Her husband and children all adored her. They were in fact a most united and mutually loving family.

  Philippa burst in and rushed to kiss her, exclaiming all in one breath, “Daddy says it’s going to be fine for Goodwood and Romilly wants me to go with him to meet the cousin and now I’m going to bathe. Anything I can do for you? See you later,” and rushed out again.

  Hanbridge Court possessed the luxury of a swimming pool which had been built by the present owner’s father in times of plenty, but it was kept up now as much for the pleasure of the neighbours as for the family. On hot days so many neighbours came to swim in it that there was hardly room for members of the family to dive. But at this time of the morning Philippa had it to herself, though she was soon joined there by Romilly. All the Hanbridges were expert swimmers and good athletes generally, particularly Romilly who played first-class tennis as well as polo and had captained his school cricket team. He came out now on to the diving board and stood poised there for a moment looking like a young god before making his beautiful dive into the water.

  Meanwhile Poppy was in a fever of anxiety. Her perturbation had been growing all the week-end and as the time drew near it seemed to her more and more impossible to go through with her ordeal, and yet she knew that go through with it she must. She had tried to comfort herself with the realization that she would still have about five days of her holiday left when this dreadful week was over, and she promised herself that those five days should be as happy as she could possibly make them. She decided that she would go and spend them at a luxurious hotel—perhaps at Brighton—and indulge her fancy to the full. She visualized a bedroom looking over the sea with a balcony and a private bathroom and breakfast in bed. She would spend the whole of the twenty-five pounds that she had saved for her fortnight abroad in order to compensate herself for what she now had to go through. She would go on excursions, she would eat expensive food, she would allow herself to be tempted by the antique shops ... She tried to keep her mind as far as possible on the delights of these few days in order to still the terrible qualms of her anxiety.

  She spent a large part of Saturday in the Public Library reading about South Africa, but the more she read the more she realized how abysmal was her own ignorance. She was cheered a little by seeing Erika and Lew on Sunday evening, but even this meeting was marred by the knowledge of how terribly close her ordeal had become. She had completely lost her appetite by this time and her mouth felt permanently dry with nerves and the palms of her hands felt damp.

  Erika gave her a few last-minute instructions. “We’ll meet here tomorrow week at lunch-time,” she said, “so you can tell me how it went. Insist on coming up in the morning.”

  Poppy felt she would be only too glad to leave as early as possible. “But what if your father meets you at the station?” she asked.

  “He won’t, because he won’t know what train I’m coming by.”

  “Won’t he expect you to write?”

  “No, he knows I’ll be too busy. I’ll tell him not to expect to hear from me ... Now if anything does go wrong you can get me at this number. Lew and I are going to Bath for a few days for our honeymoon, but we’ll be back without fail on Monday to meet you here.”

  “What about your luggage when I get back?” Poppy asked suddenly.

  “Oh, yes, I’m glad you thought of that.
You’d better leave it in the cloakroom at Victoria and bring me the ticket here and I’ll go and pick it up after lunch.”

  Thus all the small points were settled, and now the dreaded day was upon Poppy. She got up early on the Monday morning. Erika was to wear her clothes when they changed personalities on the train, so she put on her best grey coat and skirt and a clean white blouse, a small blue straw hat and blue shoes and carried blue gloves and a bag to match.

  When she got to Victoria, after getting her ticket, she stationed herself at the barrier of the platform for the Pulborough train according to arrangement and waited there until she saw Erika coming along, accompanied by a tall, grey-haired man with a rugged face, and preceded by a porter wheeling a formidable amount of expensive-looking luggage.

  Poppy followed them on to the platform and when she saw Erika getting into a compartment she got into the one next to it and went through to the corridor and waited there. Erika’s father stayed with her until the train left, but hardly had it drawn out of the platform before Erika joined Poppy in the corridor. The two girls exchanged a hurried, excited greeting and immediately went along together to the lavatory at the end of the carriage.

  It was not an easy task to change clothes in that small space, and the swaying of the train did not make it any easier. Erika was wearing an emerald green tie-silk suit and a black silk shirt, black patent shoes, and a shiny black straw hat, and was carrying a black patent bag and black suede gloves. “My coat is on the rack,” she told Poppy. “Thank goodness my shoes fit you. I had a nightmare about it in the middle of the night. What on earth was going to happen if you couldn’t get into them? We should have thought of that. You should have tried them on before.”

  Her clothes fitted Poppy very well on the whole but Poppy had a smaller waist, and although Erika’s shoes went on quite easily the heels were much higher than she was accustomed to, so that when she walked back along the corridor she felt strangely tall. She longed to be able to look at herself in a long glass and wondered whether she appeared as different as Erika did in her own grey suit. “Here, I must give you this too,” Erika said, taking off her gold bangle.