Daisychain Summer

  ‘No. It’ll be our secret. It’ll have to be, won’t it?’

  ‘Yes.’ He knew. He had probably loved her too, ever since he could remember. All at once, she felt warm inside. ‘I was thinking about being kissed. Some of the girls I know have been kissed – by a boy, I mean …’

  ‘And you haven’t, Daisy?’

  ‘Only by Drew on my birthday, and brothers don’t count.’

  ‘So if I kissed you, would you tell the girls at school?’

  ‘No, Keth – our secret.’

  ‘Then I’ll tell you something – I haven’t kissed a girl, either, though I suppose I could have, if I’d wanted.’

  Gently he took her face in his hands, then bent to lay his mouth on hers, and it was a sweet kissing; a gentle awakening to love and it made silly little tears prick her eyes so she had to try very hard not to sniff them away, and spoil everything.

  ‘Will you be my girl, Daisy – for always?’

  ‘Yes, please.’ She began to walk away from him because she didn’t want him to kiss her again tonight in case the next one wasn’t as precious and perfect as their first. She reached for his hand and they walked slowly, not speaking, towards Keeper’s Cottage. At the gate they stopped and she said, ‘Thank you for bringing me home, Keth, and thanks for helping me with my homework. I’m awful at maths.’

  ‘I know.’ It was almost dark and because he stood in the shadow of a tree, she could not see his face, though she knew he was smiling. ‘Goodnight, sweetheart,’ he said softly. ‘See you tomorrow.’

  And tomorrow and tomorrow, she exulted as she walked up the path. Keth and Daisy. For ever!

  ‘Where is it?’ The morning-room door crashed open. ‘Where have you put it? How dare you go into my room? And why is the dining-room door locked? Who gave orders to lock it?’

  Clementina stood there, hair uncombed, her dressing-gown stained.

  ‘The dining-room door is locked because –’ Edward lay down his knife and fork, slowly, to give himself time to adjust to the tirade of anger – ‘because I gave orders that it was to be.’ Because, truth known, there were decanters and bottles in the dining room and he had known it was the first place she would search. ‘And I went in your room to take away the brandy bottle.’ He pushed back his chair, then crossed the room to close the door. ‘Now please sit down and have a cup of coffee – and some toast, perhaps?’

  She hardly ate, now. She was too thin and her complexion was sallow. Clemmy had been buxom and bonny; now she looked old and raddled.

  ‘I want a drink.’ She shook her head violently. ‘You have no right to interfere. This is my house and never forget it!’

  ‘And you are my wife and never forget you are a Sutton,’ he flung. ‘You are making yourself ill. If every mother who had lost a son acted as you are acting, this country would be ungovernable!’

  ‘How dare you speak to me like that!’ Noisily, clumsily, she pulled out a chair to sit down heavily. ‘Don’t forget who is mistress of Pendenys!’ She reached for the coffee pot, filling a cup with hands that shook.

  ‘Clemmy – please …?’ The sight of her sickened him. She had become a danger not only to herself, but to them all. ‘I ask you one last time to see a doctor, any doctor? Go to London if you wish, but do something about your health before it is too late?’

  ‘Doctor? I don’t need a doctor! And if I did, I wouldn’t want that whippersnapper from the village! Who does he think he is? Last time he came he told me that the remedy lay in my own hands, that there was nothing the matter with me that I couldn’t cure for myself! Still wet around the ears, that one. Richard James would never have spoken to me like that.’

  ‘When Richard was our family physician you were a different woman, Clemmy. You had pride and self-respect, yet look at you now? What Albert will think when he sees you, I don’t know.’

  ‘Then tell him not to come. I don’t want him! It’s Elliot I want, not Albert and his brat. And who is that boy who comes with him – the dark boy?’

  ‘No one comes with him except Kitty, our granddaughter.’

  There is a boy. He’s dark, like Elliot.’ She had seen him from the tower window, running with half a dozen of them, across the grass, taking Tatiana with them – off to Helen’s, no doubt. ‘And don’t tell me I imagined him. I’ve seen him often enough, though I suppose you’ll tell me he was never there. You’d like me to be mad, wouldn’t you, Edward?’

  ‘No. I just want you to get well. I want some order in our lives again. Is that too much to ask? It’s as if there is a blight on this house. Even the servants –’

  ‘Ha! The servants! You’ve noticed, then? The po-faced one – Hannah! She’s always there, snooping and spying! But she isn’t a servant, is she, Edward? You think I don’t know you’ve hired a minder for me, a keeper. She’s a nurse. I heard one of the housemaids saying she was taking clean towels to Nurse Hannah’s room.

  ‘Well, you can throw her out, or I will! You’re having me watched, aren’t you, so you can get me put away and get your hands on my money! But it won’t work. This is my house and you live off my money, Edward. And if I refused to sign cheques or decided to stop your allowance, where would you be? Where, eh?

  ‘And I want a drink, I tell you. I paid for it and if I want to drink myself to death, it’s damn-all to do with you or anyone else!’ She subsided, exhausted, head on her hands, moaning softly.

  ‘Very well. I’ll give you one, though to see you drinking at breakfast time makes me very sad, Clemmy. But first you must tell me where you get your brandy from.’

  ‘Go to hell!’

  ‘No drink, then. Which of the servants brings it in for you?’

  ‘None of them! I ring up the wine merchant in Creesby and tell him to put a bottle on Pendenys’ account.’

  ‘Not our regular supplier, Clemmy?’

  ‘N-no. The little shop in Fishergate, as a matter of fact.’

  ‘And Mullins collects it?’ It was a shot in the dark but the jerking up of her head, the sudden tightening of her mouth told him he had guessed right.

  ‘I want a drink, Edward. Either open the dining-room or I’ll ask for the spare set of keys!’

  ‘Sit down, Clemmy, and please don’t shout? I’ll get you a drink. Just finish your coffee …?’

  He rose to his feet. His breakfast had gone cold but he had no stomach for it, now. And if one drink would quieten Clemmy, then so be it.

  ‘What’s this? What is it?’ She grasped the glass he offered. ‘I asked you for a brandy.’

  ‘A brandy it is – with soda in it.’

  ‘Then damn you, Edward Sutton and damn your drink!’ White with rage she hurled the glass into the hearth, then swept her arm across the table, knocking over the coffee pot and all else in her way. They fell with a crash and a clatter and she threw back her head and laughed. ‘Don’t think to patronize me in my own house! Don’t tell me what I may and may not drink!’ She picked up a serving dish and hurled it to the floor.

  ‘Stop it, Clemmy! Stop it!’ Edward grasped her wrists but she freed herself with a strength born of rage. ‘Please, no!’

  ‘Mrs Sutton! Calm yourself at once!’ Nurse Hannah ordered from the doorway.

  ‘Why you – you –’ Lost for words, Clementina reached for another dish.

  ‘Oh, no!’ The nurse was too agile, had dealt before with too many such rages. Grasping Clementina’s hand she pulled it into the crook of her arm, holding it vice-like.

  ‘Let me go!’

  ‘Then be still, Mrs Sutton; be very still. Breathe deeply, now. Big breaths. Go-o-o-od. That’s good,’ she said softly. ‘Just do as I ask and everything will be all right.’ She slid her eyes to the door and Edward hurried to close it.

  The doctor?’ he murmured.

  ‘On his way, sir. I took the liberty …’

  ‘I don’t want a doctor. I don’t want him!’ Clemmy made to protest but her arm was still firmly held and she knew it was useless to try to free herself. ‘And yo
u’ll be sorry for this! You’ll both be sorry! You, nurse, are dismissed, so you can pack your bags and leave! Now!’

  ‘Of course, madam. Just as you say. But first I’ll wait for the doctor. Now – are you going to walk slowly and calmly to your room, or will we wait here until Doctor Pryce arrives?’

  ‘I would like to go to my room.’ Best he shouldn’t see the mess when he arrived. ‘And if you will let go of my arm, I am perfectly able to take the stairs alone.’

  Her voice was calm again and level with reason. Gone was her anger and with it her violence, but the nurse was not deceived. Together they walked up the wide staircase, Clementina with her arm still captive; Nurse Hannah holding her hand in a grip of iron.

  From the foot of the stairs Edward watched their progress, breath indrawn. Unobtrusively, a housemaid appeared with a cloth and dustpan and brush. Inside the morning room, the parlourmaid was already clearing what was left on the tables.

  All was quiet; the blessed quiet, after a storm. A storm in a teacup and all over a glass of brandy. Clemmy was beyond all reason. Soon, she would be beyond all aid. With the help of the young doctor he must face her, Edward knew it; offer an ultimatum. Either she must try to help herself or she must be committed for treatment.

  He walked dejectedly to the library. He had no wish to face the doctor; not just yet, until he was calmer, more able to think and speak and act with reason.

  He opened the door, closing it quietly, thinking about what Helen had said, last night. ‘Be kind to her, Edward? Her world ended the night Elliot died …’

  He walked to his desk, pulling out the chair, leaning his chin on his fists on the desktop, wondering what his wife would do next.

  The brandy bottle was the first thing his eyes lit upon. It stood there mocking him and he wanted to take it and hurl it against the wall with the same violence Clemmy had used only minutes before.

  Instead, he opened the window and poured the contents onto the grass outside.

  ‘God help me,’ he whispered, his cheeks flushing with shame; shame that only moments before, he had come near to killing Clemmy; had wanted to close his fingers round her throat and still that harsh, sickening voice.

  Only Nurse Hannah’s entry into the room had prevented it.

  30

  ‘Well, that’s it!’ Keth threw down his bulging satchel. No more Creesby. Grammar School had ruled his life since ever he could remember; now, all he could do was wait for that letter. ‘I called at Home Farm. There’ll be work next week, when they start haymaking.’ And there was still the paper round, though it had become an embarrassment. Pushing papers through letterboxes was for kids, not for a young man almost six feet tall.

  ‘You’ll be done with all that, soon.’ Polly understood her son’s frustration. The mind, the body, the hopes of a man hidden in a school uniform.

  But all that would change. Soon skimping and making do and all the worrying and waiting would be over when Keth was given a county major scholarship.

  Ten pupils had taken the examination; if only two were successful, the school at Creesby would count itself fortunate – and extremely proud. And one of those would be Keth.

  Soon, at the end of the month, the letters would be sent – pass, or fail. That waiting was cruel, even more so when almost certainly most of the young hopefuls would be faced with disappointment.

  Keth had said little about the examination itself – not that Polly could blame him for that. His entire young life had moved slowly towards that one day; small wonder now that day was past, that he was drained of all feeling.

  ‘I’m taking Daisy to the pictures tonight – is that all right? A celebration, sort of, now it’s over …

  ‘Of course it is. You deserve a bit of a treat.’ She dipped into her pinafore pocket and brought out a shilling. ‘Buy yourselves some chocolate, in the interval.’

  ‘No, Mum. Thanks, but no.’

  ‘Take it, Keth? Let your mother celebrate, too? And mind you take good care of Daisy and don’t miss the last bus home.’

  Take good care. He knew exactly what she meant. At Windrush he had stood beside Daisy’s pram, he and Morgan guarding her. And later, he had walked with her to school each day, holding her hand, taking care of her as if she were his little sister. But now he loved her, Polly was sure. To do well for Daisy had been a part of the force that drove him. When he got his scholarship he would lay it at Daisy’s feet, which was right and proper, because she, his mother, would like nothing better than for them to marry. One day, that was, when Keth had a good position and could support a wife; one day, if three years of separation did not come between them or if some other young man hadn’t caught Daisy’s eye.

  ‘I’ll take care. I’ll get out of this uniform, now, then I’ll fill the coal buckets and bring in the logs.’

  ‘Thanks, son. I’ll put the kettle on. And don’t look so worried!’ He did look worried, which was only to be expected since his future had already been decided during that three-hour examination. And his quietness, really, was a reaction, like as not, to all the years of studying that all at once were over, as far as grammar school was concerned. ‘I’ll cut us a piece of cake.’

  ‘Not for me, ta,’ he called over his shoulder.

  ‘It’s chocolate. I baked it special.’

  ‘No, Mum. Honestly – I’m not hungry.’

  ‘Please yourself, then.’

  But for all that, she cut two slices and placed them on two blue and white plates. Worn out, that’s what. She was glad they were going into Creesby, tonight. Take the lad out of himself for an hour or two; do him good.

  ‘My dear Clemmy! How good it is to see you looking so much better!’ Helen settled herself in Pendenys morning room. So good that she had abandoned her retreat in the tower and was presiding over morning coffee, at home to callers, though only she herself, Helen frowned, ever called.

  ‘The hairdresser came – trimmed my hair, put on an auburn tint. Hasn’t gone too far, has she?’

  Clementina turned her head to the light, eager for Helen’s approval. Only in her sister-in-law’s company did she feel remotely at ease and her hand cease to shake when she poured. Though she resented Helen’s aplomb, her breeding and beauty – for she was still beautiful – Clementina Sutton knew that in a world turned hostile by her own stupidity, Helen was her only true woman friend.

  ‘Your hair looks beautiful – quite a change for the better. I mean it.’ She really did.

  ‘You think so?’ Clementina was pleased. ‘Got to make an effort, I suppose, for Amelia. She’s so pernickety, that one. No sooner see the back of them than they’re here again! Can’t understand how they can take so much time away from those mares of theirs.’

  ‘They have a good stable staff. The Stud manager is entirely reliable. And Amelia looks forward to her visits to England. I hear they’ll be flying over, this time.’

  ‘And rather them than me! Don’t like aeroplanes. How they get them off the ground is a mystery to me – all that weight!’

  ‘I fear we shall have to get used to them, Clemmy. Stubbs heard that a squadron of bombers has arrived at the new aerodrome. Surely you have seen them, flying around?’

  Clementina had, and flying in dangerously low to land. Frightening horses and livestock – and why pick the wilds of the North Riding for an aerodrome? Why should she have to put up with the noise?

  ‘Do you think this dress a little unfashionable?’ Clementina could still change the subject as abruptly as before.

  ‘Indeed I do not. Those of us who kept our longer dresses are to be congratulated. Thank goodness those awful flapper frocks are out of style.’ Too short, they had been. Legs all over the place. So embarrassing.

  ‘Ah!’ Helen could always be relied upon to say the right thing. It gave Clementina the confidence to say, ‘You know that young doctor we got when Richard James retired? He had the audacity, would you believe, to tell me that unless I was willing to pull myself together, I had better not expect h
im to call again. Obviously, he didn’t know about Elliot and my terrible grief.’ He had gone on to ask her if she were determined to kill herself, though no need to tell Helen that!

  ‘Killing yourself! That’s just what you are doing, Mrs Sutton.’ He had been rude, and angry. ‘Carry on like this for very much longer and you’ll be dead!’

  ‘I’d got myself upset you see, Helen. I’ll admit it. I’d had a few small brandies the night before because it was Elliot’s birthday. No one remembered, but me. Edward and I had an argument over breakfast and I accidentally knocked over a coffee pot and broke a dish.

  ‘Then that dreadful woman Hannah rushed into the room and marched me upstairs – up my own stairs – as if I were a naughty child being sent in disgrace to bed!

  ‘Then she took it upon herself to send for that doctor and he was most aggressive – sided with her, though they always stick together, those medical people. She left, of course. I told her to pack up and go!’

  ‘There now,’ Helen murmured, because it wasn’t quite the version Anna had brought to Rowangarth, next day.

  Nurse Hannah had refused to stay one more night at Pendenys and was driven to Holdenby station in the Rolls-Royce. And Mullins had been obliged to hand in his notice, too. Poor Mullins. Fond of his Madeira, but he had been with Edward and Clemmy since Pendenys was built. A sad old man. Nowhere to go, Anna had said.

  ‘But I suppose I shall have to forgive that doctor –’

  ‘Doctor Pryce,’ Helen corrected softly.

  ‘Yes. Better ask him to dinner to even the seating up. Amelia likes to act hostess when she’s over and I must admit she does it quite well.’

  ‘A dinner party would be splendid!’ This was indeed an improvement, Helen thought gratefully. Perhaps the breakfast upset had finally jerked Clemmy to her senses. ‘Whom shall you ask?’

  ‘I’m not at all sure. There’ll be Edward and I and Albert and Amelia, but then I have a surplus of ladies. So I thought if we asked the doctor he would do to take Anna in to table, and Nathan, of course, can escort Julia. And as for you, Helen – well, we really should ask the Bishop.’ Nathan, she had decided, had too much on his hands now that two minor clerics had retired, not to be replaced. Now Nathan had to say Eucharist in three parishes each Sunday and the services of a curate were called for, to Clementina’s way of thinking. ‘Would you mind the Bishop, Helen? He’s quite human, really.’