Daisychain Summer

by Elizabeth Elgin

  He closed the staircase door behind him, then crossed the hall to the table on which he had left his hat and gloves. His footsteps echoed loudly and it made him remember his childhood when he had stood in the exact centre of the tessellated floor and called his name loudly. And his name had echoed above and all around him, as if he were shouting in a church, except that the great hall at Pendenys was loftier than All Souls, in the village. And it wasn’t right, he’d thought all those years ago, to shout in church.

  Now that church had become his and Pendenys Place was a mockery of a house, without a scrap of happiness in it. And one day, as he had just been reminded, it would pass to him. It made him wonder about the entail, and if it would be possible to get rid of it.

  ‘Good morning,’ he smiled to a passing housemaid. ‘I wonder if you could tell the kitchen that Mrs Sutton would like some coffee – she’s in the tower room. And would someone be so kind as to run her a bath, afterwards?’

  ‘Yes, sir.’ The girl returned the smile because she liked the reverend. Decent, like his father. And he didn’t need to tell her where she was. The whole house knew it and about what happened last night, too. ‘Mornin’, sir.’ She bobbed a curtsey as he left because she was sorry for him. Sad that he didn’t have a wife, especially as there were plenty in the parish would be more than glad of the chance to live in that vicarage.

  Ah, well, she thought. It took all sorts to make a world – including madam in the tower!

  ‘Good morning, mother.’ Albert Sutton’s smile was stiff with apprehension.

  ‘Morning? It’s nearly noon! What kept you? Your brother was here hours ago. Waiting for me to sober up, were you?’

  ‘No, I was not. I was told you were in your bath and –’

  ‘Well, you’ve been, now, so close the door behind you when you go. Anyway, it isn’t you I want to see, it’s Sebastian, so tell him to come up. I’d like to talk to him.’

  ‘Talk?’ His mother could still make him uneasy; still had a tongue as sharp as a razor. Albert’s nose twitched. She had been drinking again. They should have searched for the decanter when she was in the bathroom. But his mother was cunning, had probably taken it with her. It wasn’t going to be easy to persuade her to get treatment, yet stop her drinking she must, even if they had to get two doctors to certify her!

  Yet could they do that? Maybe only if she were insane could she be forced to go. And his mother was far from insane.

  ‘Well, off you go! Don’t stand there staring out of the window!’

  He left without further comment. His mother was nobody’s fool. Tipsy or sober, she never lost her shrewdness. It came from her father; from Grandfather Elliot whom he could scarcely remember, and so astute was his mother that she had more than doubled the fortune he’d left her, in spite of her extravagant spending.

  But what immediately concerned him – concerned them all – was to have her properly looked after and, if possible, cured of her need to drink. And the sooner it happened, the better for them all!

  ‘Where is Bas?’ Daisy asked of Kitty when she joined them in Rowangarth conservatory.

  ‘He’ll be along.’ Kitty sat down beside Drew and Daisy.

  ‘Where’s Keth?’

  ‘Chopping wood for his mother, this afternoon. And he’s mending a puncture for Bas. He can’t always be with us, I suppose. Not now. You’ll have to put up with me and Daiz till Tatty arrives. Aunt Anna is coming to tea. There’s a lot of talking going on – I think it’s about the dinner party, last night,’ Drew said guardedly.

  ‘Dinner party my foot! It’s about Grandma Sutton, because she did it at the dinner party. And by the way, Bas has been summoned to The Presence,’ Kitty giggled, ‘so he mightn’t get here.’

  ‘What has Bas done?’

  ‘Nothing, as far as I know. Grandma just wants to talk to him. But don’t you want to hear about last night, and what they’re all talking about?’

  ‘You know we do!’ Daisy loved Kitty’s performances. She always made them laugh and Daisy needed to laugh. Keth was so moody, so angry with the world. She could imagine him wielding the axe with great heavy blows and the logs splintering and scattering at the force of it. ‘Have you been listening again?’

  ‘No. I just happened to be sitting beneath the morning-room window which just happened to be open. Pa was there, and Uncle Nathan and grandfather. They were talking about grandma going into hospital because of the brandy.

  ‘Last night, at the dinner party, she had too much to drink and made a fool of herself, though Pa said rather she’d made a fool of them in front of the Bishop and the doctor.

  ‘I think they’re going to have to lock up all the bottles, or she’ll do herself a mischief – at least that’s what Pa said. I think he thinks grandmother is a bad example to us and he’s afraid that one day Bas and me will start drinking, too – inherited, sort of.’

  ‘Does drinking run in families?’ Daisy frowned.

  ‘I don’t know. I believe Aunt Anna thinks it does. I expect she’ll talk about it when she comes here for tea. She was there, last night, so she must’ve seen it all. Wish I’d known grandma was going to make a scene. I’d have stayed awake and –’

  ‘And hidden in the sideboard cupboard?’ Drew teased.

  ‘Say – that’s not a bad idea! Just might try it, one night. Y’know, you’d be surprised the things grown-ups say when they think there aren’t any little ears around. It beats listening to the wireless, any day.’

  ‘And aren’t you ashamed of listening?’ Daisy asked.

  ‘No.’ Kitty’s blue eyes opened wide. ‘And anyway, I always tell you guys, now don’t I? Does your grandma drink, Drew?’

  ‘I’m afraid she does.’ His cheeks flushed red. ‘I haven’t seen her, mind, but she does say that a glass of sherry helps her to sleep. I don’t think she ever makes a fool of herself, though.’

  ‘Of course she doesn’t! By drinking I don’t mean the odd glass of sherry – Mom likes one, too. I’m talking about the way Grandma Sutton does it – all the time, I mean. Tippling, the servants call it. I heard Mom say that if the servants are talking about it, then all Holdenby will know, too. It’s exciting, isn’t it – being notorious …’

  ‘I don’t know about that. Would you like to be notorious, Daiz?’ Drew wasn’t at all sure he would like it if Cook and Tilda and Mary sniggered about grandmother’s glass of sherry.

  ‘Don’t know, really. What I do know is that I can’t stop thinking about Keth. I didn’t really want him to go away to University, but now that he can’t go, I wouldn’t care how far away he went. I think it was rotten of them, not giving him a pass.’

  ‘Mm. I don’t want to go to University – leastways not unless I can study speech and drama. I want to be an actress, you know, though I wouldn’t mind being a crooner with one of the big dance bands. I told Pa and he went berserk. “You’ll stay at home, Kathryn Sutton,” he said, “and learn from your mother how to run a house!” That’s because he thinks that all girls are fit for is getting married and having babies.

  ‘I started to weep. It usually works, but that time it didn’t, so I went and asked Mom and she said I was to leave Pa to her and that if I still wanted to act when I’d finished High School, then she’d be on my side. Mom’s an absolute love. And here’s Tatty.’ Kitty nodded in the direction of the car pulling up at the front door. ‘Go and tell her we’re here, Drew.’

  ‘You’re very bossy with him, aren’t you?’ Daisy challenged as Drew ran across the lawn.

  ‘Am I?’

  ‘Yes, you are. And don’t open your eyes all wide and innocent, Kitty Sutton. Drew’s my brother and I don’t like you giving him orders!’

  ‘Sorry. I don’t mean to be bossy with him. It’s just the way I am. When I get uppity with Bas he just pulls my hair and neither of us thinks any more about it. But I’ll try to be kinder to Drew.’

  ‘You’d better, an’ all, because Drew really likes you, I know he does.’

 
‘Does he so?’ Kitty let go a giggle of excitement. ‘Like Keth likes you, you mean?’

  ‘Ssssh!’ Red-cheeked, Daisy tossed her head. ‘They’re coming back. Do you like Tatty, by the way?’

  ‘Sure do, though she was a pain, once.’ Tatiana had changed and much for the better. She was fourteen, now, and spoke fluent Russian which wasn’t half bad, Kitty was forced to admit. ‘Hi, Tatty. What’s news?’

  ‘News is,’ Tatty threw herself into a basket chair with such gusto that it creaked and cracked all over, ‘that the families are talking. About things.’

  ‘No. Not about things. It’ll be about Grandma Sutton. She had too much to drink, last night.’ The subject had begun to bore Kitty.

  ‘Oh. Is that all?’

  ‘It’s enough when you consider that Bas is with her now in that room of hers. Said she wanted to see him. I wanted to go, too, but Mom said I wasn’t to,’ Kitty shrugged, ‘because I provoke her.’

  ‘Poor Bas,’ Tatiana sighed. ‘Well, since he’s not here, nor Keth, there’ll be more for each of us.’ She pulled out a bar of chocolate, handing it to Kitty. ‘Share it out. It’s a half-pound bar and we’ve got to eat it before I go home because Mama doesn’t know I’ve got it. Karl gave it to me.’

  Carefully Kitty snapped the bar into four. She really envied Tatty having someone like Karl.

  ‘Where shall we go?’ Daisy demanded of Drew.

  ‘To the garden – to the hot house. Catchpole is picking peaches. There are quite a few ripe and he likes to pick them with the sun on them. Cook wants them to preserve in brandy, for special. He’ll give us some, if I ask him.’

  ‘Peaches and chocolate. We’ll be sick.’

  ‘Who cares?’ Tatiana grinned. She was really happy when the Clan was together. It was too bad that Mama said they were to visit Grandmother Petrovska, next week. It was awful, at Cheyne Walk. Perhaps, if she made herself really sick, Mama would leave her behind, at Denniston House.

  She thought about Bas. Poor Bas – having to spend this lovely afternoon with Grandmother Sutton. She wondered what they were talking about, then sent her love winging to him – just for luck.

  ‘Hey! Wait for me!’ she yelled.

  32

  ‘Do I have to go, Mom?’ Grandma Sutton unnerved him, made him feel all tongue-tied and awkward. ‘She glares so.’

  ‘She has asked especially that you visit her, Bas. You are her only grandson, and important to her. She won’t keep you long. She usually has a little doze after her lunch.’

  ‘Okay – if I must, though I don’t see why she didn’t want Kitty to go, too.’

  ‘Bas, dear,’ Amelia smiled indulgently. ‘Kitty is far too precocious for grandma’s liking. Your sister isn’t afraid of her and neither must you be. Remember she is an elderly lady, and try to be kind to her.’

  ‘How old, Mom?’

  ‘It isn’t polite to ask a lady’s age, Bas. I don’t even know myself, though I guess she’s about seventy.’

  ‘Aunt Helen is older than that and she’s twice as pretty!’

  ‘Then don’t let grandma hear you say that!’ She gave a smiling twitch to the tie she had insisted her son should wear. ‘Just be polite and ask her if there is anything she wants – any errands running.’

  ‘All right. But I hope she doesn’t keep me long. I told Keth I’d be over to the bothy to collect my bike.’

  ‘She won’t. Now off you go, and don’t be afraid of her.’

  She watched him go, loving him dearly. She was so contented with her lot; she who had everything she had ever dreamed of and could ask for no more. Soon, Bas would be eighteen; another year and he’d be leaving home for University, though which one they hadn’t yet decided.

  She stopped her dreaming as she heard the closing of the staircase door and the clicking of the latch. She wished Albert’s mother had eaten more, at lunchtime. She had seen the tray being carried away, the food on it hardly touched, which meant only one thing.

  She wondered if she should wait a few minutes, then go to the tower room. Not that she was fighting her son’s battles, but because Bertie’s mother could be sharp-tongued when the mood was on her and Bas did not have his sister’s self-confidence.

  Resolutely she turned on her heel, reminding herself that her son was no longer a child and that she had promised Helen she would go to Rowangarth for tea.

  She liked Rowangarth – no, loved it; loved the oldness of it and the kindliness and the sense of permanence about it. It made her wonder if houses affected people and whether, if her mother-in-law had lived there, perhaps Rowangarth would have made her a nicer person. A little more like Helen, perhaps?

  She shrugged, then went to collect her hat and gloves and tell Bertie she was going to Rowangarth. And to suggest that he keep an eye on the tower room …

  ‘Come in then, boy! Don’t stand there gawping. Your father gawped, did you know?’

  ‘I’m not sure what gawp means, grandma.’ He wouldn’t be afraid of her!

  ‘You don’t? Well, in Yorkshire, people who gawp are usually gormless, but then you won’t know what gormless is, either!’

  ‘It isn’t a word we use back home.’

  ‘Oh, for pity’s sake sit yourself down. And close that window! I don’t know who keeps opening it. Now, tell me what you want?’

  ‘But I thought it was you wanted to see me.’

  ‘Well, if I did I’ve changed my mind.’ She felt very sleepy. She had emptied the coffee pot on her tray but it had done nothing to keep her alert.

  ‘Is there anything I can do for you?’ Hope surged high. She wasn’t going to keep him. ‘Any errands I can run?’ he added, remembering his mother’s words.

  ‘Do? Yes, you can put more coal on the fire, then you can fill this for me.’ She reached for the slim gold lighter that once was Elliot’s. Elliot always lit a cigarette so elegantly. Elliot had done everything perfectly, had even given her a grandson, though Anna had killed it.

  ‘It needs fuel, I think. Do you have some, grandma?’

  ‘I know it needs fuel. There’s a bottle in the cupboard.’

  ‘Can’t find it,’ Bas called.

  ‘Then try the drawer! What a fuss over so small a task.’

  ‘It’s okay. It’s here.’ He spied the bottle on the mantelpiece, which was a pretty stupid place for it to be. ‘I’ll see to the fire, then if you like I’ll bring you up more coal.’

  Mom was right. Grandma was old and old people got tetchy from time to time. Pity for her washed over him.

  ‘Bring up coal! Indeed you won’t! Coal-carrying is servant’s work and you are not a servant. One day you will be master of Pendenys Place – had you thought of that; had you, eh?’

  ‘No, grandma.’ He had thought of little else since Uncle Elliot died. He didn’t want Pendenys.

  ‘Then you should! You’ll never get on in this world if you don’t use your brain, think ahead.’

  ‘Yes, grandma.’ He dropped to his knees, poking out the ashes, adding more coal. His face burned from the heat. This was not a day for a fire, but perhaps the old felt the cold more.

  He rose to his feet, picking up the lighter, examining it. ‘This screw at the bottom needs to come off, first. Have you a small coin I could use?’

  ‘Of course I haven’t. For goodness sake what a fuss you’re making!’

  Bas fished into his pocket, laying the strange coins on his hand. Half-crowns, florins; a silver threepenny piece would have done just fine, if he’d had one.

  ‘I’ll try to unscrew it with my thumbnail …’

  ‘Oh, give it to me. I’ll do it myself!’ So ungainly the boy was; so coltish! All at once she didn’t want him even to touch something that once was Elliot’s. Roughly she snatched the lighter, then reached up for the bottle. The suddenness of her movement made her dizzy and she swayed on her feet, grabbing for the mantelpiece, missing it, dropping the bottle on the hearth.

  ‘Grandma!’ Bas cried as it shattered, ignited. ‘Oh, God
, no!’

  With a dull thud a wall of flame burst high and wide, licking at her skirt. She was on fire! The hearthrug was on fire!

  ‘Grandma!’ He tried to pull her away but she stood there, beating at the flames, making them worse with her frenzied flapping. ‘On the floor! Get down!’

  He knew what to do. Roll her in a rug! But the rug was burning. The room was burning!

  Her screams filled his head and he didn’t know how to stop her. He took off his coat, wrapping her in it, trying to put out the flames.

  ‘Get out! The door, grandma!’ He grasped her arm. ‘Try to make it to the door!’

  A screen barred their way. It was old and painted in oils. Even as he pushed it aside it burst into flames to fall, blazing furiously, across the doorway.

  No way out, and grandma screaming so. Her hair was alight. He could smell the burning. His heart thudded. He tried to think but there was no way out.

  He staggered coughing, retching, to the window, flinging it open, taking in gulps of air. So far to the ground. He daren’t jump. He couldn’t jump. Not without grandma.

  She lay still, now, on the floor, eyes wide in a blackened face, her lips moving and no sound coming. She was going to die. He was going to die.

  ‘Up here! Help us!’ he screamed. ‘For God’s sake, help us!’ There were people down there. A gardener, who didn’t even look up; someone riding a bicycle. Normal things, in a safe world yet they were trapped up here. Soon they’d be dead!

  Keth pulled hard on the bicycle brakes when he saw the smoke. It billowed black from a tower window, near the top. Someone was in there! Someone waving, calling!

  He threw down the cycle and made for the house, flinging open the first door he came to, running up a passage to where a maid was sweeping the floor.

  ‘The tower! It’s on fire!’

  The girl let go a gasp. The young man’s eyes were wild as he shook her arm roughly.

  ‘Tell me! Where’s the tower?’

  ‘Up there.’ She pointed along the passageway. ‘Across the hall …’ Then she ran after him, because she wasn’t sure she should have told him. ‘That’s the tower door, but you shouldn’t –’