Daisychain Summer

  ‘And it isn’t, Keth …’

  ‘It’s the end of my world. I used to think one day I’d be Mister Keth Purvis and have a car and a decent house, but that’s – that’s –’

  ‘That’s the way the cookie crumbles, old chum,’ Bas said, eyes on his shoes, feeling guilty because to read veterinary science was all he’d ever wanted – and helping run the Stud, back home. ‘Sure wish there was something I could do to help.’

  ‘Thanks for the thought, but there isn’t. There’ll be a couple of weeks’ work for me at Home Farm, then I’ll join the unemployed. It’s Mum I’m sorry for. I told Daisy. She was upset for me, but things are different for her. Daisy has –’ He stopped, remembering they didn’t know about the money. ‘I mean, Daisy only wants to have her own home and children in it. It’s different, for girls.’

  ‘Wonder who Daisy will marry – one day, that is. She sure is pretty,’ Bas said.

  ‘She’s very pretty. Most of the boys at school think so, too.’ Drew was very proud of his sister. ‘Daiz could marry anyone she wanted.’

  ‘Don’t be stupid! Daisy’ll have to stay in school for another year, yet,’ Keth glared, all at once remembering how much things could change in just a few days. ‘She’s still a kid!’

  Even as he said it, Keth knew he was degrading something precious and wonderful. Kid, he’d called her, yet he loved her till it hurt.

  ‘I think Daisy likes you, Keth, better’n anyone – better than me, even.’ Drew pointed in the direction of the wild garden and the stile the three girls were climbing. ‘They’re coming and they’ve got Tatty with them. I didn’t think Aunt Anna would’ve let her come out today. She’s in disgrace, mother said.’

  ‘Good old Tatty. She’s improving. What did she do?’ Bas grinned.

  ‘Swearing. She can swear in Russian, you see, and she often does. But she forgot that Aunt Anna was there to hear her and she got early-to-bed for a week. Suppose it was Kitty who persuaded Aunt Anna to let Tatty out. She’s ever so good at saying the right things, isn’t she?’

  ‘She is, so.’ Bas was well acquainted with his sister’s ways. ‘Kitty’s an actress. She’s always doing it. She can weep her way out of trouble like no one I’ve ever known. Pa falls for it all the time, though she doesn’t fool Mom. Still, it must’ve worked.’ He waved a welcoming hand. ‘Hurry up, you lot, or it’ll be too late to do anything before teatime.’

  Bas was all at once glad for the strange English custom of afternoon tea and that they always seemed to eat it – or did you take it? – at Aunt Julia’s place. Plates of sandwiches, cherry scones and chocolate cake. And lemonade like only Rowangarth cook could make it.

  ‘Hi Keth, Drew.’ Kitty was always first; could outrun any of the Clan. ‘Say, Keth – I sure am sorry about your exam. Daisy told me. Bloody awful luck, that was.’

  ‘Watch your tongue, Sis!’ Bas warned. He slid his eyes in Tatiana’s direction. ‘Or at least learn to swear in Russian!’

  ‘I’ll say what I like!’ Kitty stuck her nose in the air. ‘The stable boys back home say bloody all the time!’

  ‘Okay. But don’t say I didn’t warn you! Now – where are we going?’

  England wasn’t half bad, Bas was forced to admit and it was good to be with the Clan. If only Pendenys could vanish in a puff of smoke, England would be a real nice place.

  He was sorry for Keth, though. Real sorry. It made him wonder what it was like to be poor like Keth was and he felt suddenly guilty, because he knew he would never know.

  ‘They were all right about it when you told them, weren’t they?’ Daisy leaned her bicycle against the fence, waiting as Keth delivered the last of the evening papers. ‘They all felt sorry for you.’

  ‘I suppose they did, but it’s all right for them. They don’t have to prove themselves – it’s known as having money. Oh, let’s get off home!’

  ‘But you don’t have to prove yourself.’ Stubbornly, Daisy stood her ground. ‘Not to me, you don’t.’

  ‘But I do. I thought if I got a degree I could get rich. Mr Hillier got rich.’

  ‘He didn’t go to University, though. Mr Hillier started with a stall in the Saturday market. Dada told me so.’

  ‘All right, then. But I wanted to give you things, and now I can’t.’

  ‘Then I’ll settle for a daisychain, Keth – and you. Did you know that Dada gives buttercups to Mam? I think buttercups must be special between them, ’cos he always brings home the first ones he finds. Mam puts them in a glass on the windowsill and she goes all pink. I’ve seen her.’

  ‘Any fool can give you a daisychain. I’m really mad with that exam, and I’m madder with myself!’

  ‘With me, too? With the world? And I don’t want any fool, I want you.’ The bitterness in him shocked her. ‘Don’t talk any more about University? Like your Mum said, it isn’t the end of the world. Don’t spoil things between us?’

  ‘I’m trying, honest I am. And I know I’ll have to go to the Labour Exchange, soon. But they’ll be starting haymaking next week at Home Farm. The grass looks just about ready for cutting. I’ll think about a job, when the hay is all stacked – but not until then.’

  To stand in a queue outside the doors of that gaunt, no-hope building would be to finally say goodbye to University.

  ‘Keth – I do understand.’ She glanced around her then took a step nearer so they stood close. She wanted him to kiss her, to hold her so she could show him how much she loved him. But most of all she wanted him to come back to her because since the letter came, a frightening barrier had grown between them, and it made her afraid.

  ‘Let’s go home?’ he shrugged, oblivious to the pleading in her eyes, pedalling off, leaving her standing there.

  ‘Keth – please?’ she called after him, but he did not wait for her, nor turn at her call.

  Ten at dinner, Amelia said, was neither too big nor too small. She walked round the table, checking it yet again, briefly envying Pendenys’ Georgian silver and exquisite antique glasses and cutlery, trying to imagine what they must have cost Bertie’s grandfather to buy, for nothing but the rarest and best had been used in the furbishing of the house he built for his daughter.

  Amelia smiled briefly. She had tentatively suggested an American menu to Cook who had at once declared that most of the ingredients she had never heard of, much less be able to buy in Creesby, and anything, anything at all save English cooking was likely to bring on an attack of her unmentionables and then where would they be?

  Amelia had not pressed the matter. Pendenys staff was not what it had once been. Staff knew that nowadays the mistress of Pendenys Place cared little for what went on beyond the door of the tower staircase, and since the butler’s departure, discipline had deteriorated still further.

  ‘Very well, Cook.’ Amelia conceded defeat, though all the time wishing she could stay longer and lick the place into shape again. ‘A simple meal it shall be. And in Mullins’ absence, I shall choose the wines.’

  Pendenys, she brooded, shifting a salt cellar half an inch to the right. Such a strange house. Albert’s father was clearly ill at ease here; Albert and Bas disliked it and Nathan was happy to be in his vicarage.

  Would this echoing place really come to her son, one day, and if it did, what on earth would he do with it? Give it to Kitty, perhaps?

  Taking into account that Pendenys’ cook had almost forgotten what a dinner party was like, the meal had been without fault. Amelia relaxed visibly as cold cucumber soup was followed by a haddock soufflé that was nothing short of amazing, for it had reached its point of perfection at exactly the right time.

  Ribs of beef were followed by summer pudding, served with individual silver dishes of thickly-whipped cream, and after that – and only the gentlemen had been able to partake of them – came savouries, the recipe for which was known only to Cook herself and jealously guarded, though the Bishop, happy in Helen’s company, detected the faintest hint of Stilton therein.

  The even
ing was warm. The scent of a summer night drifted in through open windows. The footmen who served were efficient and unobtrusive. Amelia should have been pleased with the success of her efforts; could have been, had not her mother-in-law, oozing charm at the start of the evening, been quickly and obviously becoming more and more relaxed as each course progressed. Vainly Amelia tried to catch the eye of the footman so she might offer the smallest of frowns in the direction of the decanters, but Clementina sat at the foot of the table and she, Amelia, sat on Edward’s right at its head.

  It was a little worrying. Clementina, she knew, had had her brandy severely rationed and was the better for it, but tonight, when all others drank sparingly of the wines, the mistress of Pendenys took glass after glass with no one able to prevent her. And there really was, all things considered, nothing she could do about it save hope that when port and cigars came to the table and the ladies withdrew, Clementina would be able to leave the room without mishap.

  As soon as the last plate was cleared, Amelia rose to her feet, smiling round the table, indicating that coffee would be served to the ladies in the drawing room. Her eyes did not leave her mother-in-law and the footman who pulled back her chair.

  Carefully, as if troubled by an aching back, Clementina rose to her feet, lifting her head, straightening her shoulders, steadying herself, hand on table. Then, as she passed the sideboard she reached for the brandy decanter with splendid aplomb, carrying it like a trophy to the room next door, placing it on the table to the right of her chair.

  Coffee awaited the ladies on a silver tray; a parlourmaid stood beside it to hand out cups; a second maid carried a cream jug and sugar bowl.

  ‘Be kind enough to pour, Amelia.’ Clementina’s words were slurred though her smile was gracious; the sly smile of a cat who had lapped deeply at forbidden cream and intended taking more. Tonight, after a month of near abstinence, Clementina intended to drink her fill and it were better she should not do it here. Draining her coffee cup she rose to her feet, hand on the mantelshelf.

  ‘I am tired, my dears. If you will excuse me I think I will go to bed before my headache comes on. Amelia, will you take care of our guests?’ She grasped the decanter, then walked carefully towards the door.

  You had, Amelia grudgingly conceded, to admire her nerve, and since she was in her own house and would remind them, should any one of them dare to protest, that it was her own brandy and she could drink the lot if she felt so inclined, they watched without speaking as she left the room.

  ‘Well,’ Julia gasped as the door slammed, ‘the leopard doesn’t change its –’

  She was silenced by a glance from her mother, who smiled in the direction of the wide-eyed maids, saying, ‘Thank you, both. We can manage nicely. You may go, now.’

  ‘Oh dear, I had so hoped …’ Amelia whispered, clearly distressed.

  ‘That mother-in-law had mended her ways?’ Anna demanded tartly. ‘I fear not. She depends too much on the drinking. Since Elliot died, it is worse and worse. But you all know that. I only hope such things will not be inherited by Tatiana.’

  ‘Don’t worry. Aunt Clemmy will sleep it off and be her usual self in the morning,’ Julia grinned. ‘And didn’t she carry it off well? The way she sneaked the decanter was –’

  ‘Please, Julia!’ There was an unfamiliar edge to Helen’s voice that silenced her daughter at once. ‘I think that tomorrow I must have a word with Edward. Unless Clemmy gets help, she will make herself ill. The young doctor seems very efficient; perhaps he and Edward can urge Clemmy to seek a cure before it is too late. Now please – not another word,’ she whispered as sounds from the dining room indicated that the men were about to join them. ‘Clemmy pleaded indisposition – a headache, don’t forget!’

  Had the Bishop not been here, Helen fretted, they could have discussed the matter with Doctor Pryce, here and now, as a family. But it must wait until tomorrow. She lifted her chin and smiled, as the door opened.

  ‘You should have seen the old cat,’ said the head parlourmaid when they were seated in the servants’ sitting room and eager and willing to give a detailed and dramatic account of the mistress’s latest fall from grace. ‘Downing wine at table as if tomorrow was the start of prohibition, then crafty as you please she lifts the brandy and takes it with her to the drawing room.

  ‘They say drinkers are like that – sly, I mean. She knew nobody’d say a word in front of His Grace. Poor Mrs Amelia didn’t know where to look, she was that embarrassed. I used to wonder where Mr Elliot got his drinking habits from, and now I know.’

  ‘And then what happened?’ Pendenys cook demanded testily. She could have done without an upset above stairs to take away her glory after all the effort she had put into the dinner party.

  ‘Don’t ask me, Cook. All I can say is thank goodness I don’t have to answer upstairs bells for she’ll be as drunk as a lord afore so very much longer. I wouldn’t go into her bedroom if there was a five-pound note at the end of it and that’s a fact!’

  ‘Then you’ll not need to. I know where she is,’ a housemaid supplied. ‘Never saw me, she didn’t. Slunk across the hall and up those tower stairs with her bottle. She’ll be in her sulking room now, and there she’ll stay, ’til morning if you want my opinion. A drunk she may be but stupid she ain’t. She’s never been known to risk coming down them twisting stairs when she’s had a few. Don’t worry. She’ll not be bothering us tonight.’

  And in the end, they all knew it would be left to the master to make sure she was all right; to wait until she was asleep before returning the decanter to the dining room. Or maybe Lady Helen would have a word with her, beg her not to over indulge. Her ladyship had a soothing way with the mistress. Happen she would be able to do something?

  But they all knew one thing was certain. In the morning there’d be no living with Mrs Clementina who, once her headache had worn off, would rant and rage like a fishwife.

  But then, fishwife she was – or almost so. Breeding would out. It always did.

  ‘Good morning, mother.’ Nathan peered round the door. All was in darkness and he crossed the room carefully to draw back the curtains and open a window. ‘How are you?’

  ‘Close that damn door!’ Clementina hissed from the chair, angry that her son should find her still wearing last night’s clothes. ‘And I’m all right, since you ask, though two calls in two days is a bit unusual!’

  ‘I came to see father. I couldn’t leave without seeing you, now could I?’

  ‘I suppose not. And what did you talk about? Me, was it?’

  ‘No,’ Nathan said softly, though they had discussed his mother at great length. ‘I wanted to ask father if there is an empty cottage, at Pendenys. I have need of one for a parishioner – that’s all.’

  ‘Then you should’ve asked me. This is my house, Nathan, and estate cottages are mine to grant, not your father’s. And if you had a ha’porth of sense you’d have got yourself married years ago and had a son or two!’

  ‘Mother – what has my marrying got to do with a cottage?’

  ‘You may well ask! Has it never occurred to you that Pendenys will come to you one day, yet here you are, gone fifty, and still unwed. You’ll have folk thinking you’re a nancy boy.’

  ‘I’m forty-eight next birthday, mother.’

  ‘Albert’s younger’n you and he’s got two children. That Sebastian of his will get this place one day – had you realized that?’

  ‘No, but I can’t say I’ve given it all that much thought.’

  ‘Then you should!’ The light was hurting her eyes and her mouth felt as if it were stuffed with cotton-wool. She reached for a cigarette, then flicked the lighter. ‘Damn!’ She threw it down as it sparked, but refused to light.

  Nathan dipped into his pocket for a match. He did not smoke, but always carried matches and a packet of cigarettes. It was a throwback to his army days, he supposed, and the many cigarettes he had lit and placed between the lips of wounded men. Now, he offered them to me
n tramping the roads.

  ‘Thanks.’ She inhaled deeply, then lay back in the chair, her head thumping. ‘Did you never want to marry?’ She asked it so suddenly that he was caught off guard.

  ‘Marry? I – I suppose I would – if the right woman came along. The war, you know. It unsettled many of us.’

  ‘That war has been over almost twenty years. There’ll be another one before so very much longer. Don’t you ever lift your nose out of your Bible, lad, and read what the papers say?’

  ‘Spain, you mean? The fighting there?’

  ‘Spain wasn’t what I meant. I’m talking about Hitler and all die tanks and soldiers and planes they’ve got in Germany. And this government can’t see beyond the end of its nose!’

  A bomber flew low over the house and she flinched at its noise.

  ‘And those noisy things! I swear they take Pendenys as a bearing when they’re coming in to land! Why couldn’t they build their aerodrome somewhere else?’

  ‘If as you say, Germany has too many planes, then perhaps you should be glad we have a few of our own,’ Nathan countered mildly. ‘But I must go.’

  ‘Yes, of course. Your flock.’ She offered a cheek for his kiss. ‘And before you leave, tell Mullins I want a tray of coffee and get someone to run me a bath.’

  ‘I’ll do that.’ He raised a hand in goodbye, but she had already turned her back. ‘Goodbye, mother. God bless …’

  He wished last night’s lapse had not happened. What Albert had said this morning made sense. They must somehow get her into a nursing home; wean her from her dependence on brandy.

  But she was full of guile. Cures came only to those who wanted to be cured, and his mother did not wish to be. She drank, he was sure, to escape a world without love, for she had loved no one but her father, and Elliot.

  Sadly, quietly, he closed the door. Carefully he negotiated the curving stone staircase. Mullins was gone, of course, but he had not contradicted his mother. Her memory was never good after a bout of drinking.