‘Stop it, man!’
‘Look here, Charlie. I told you not to bring her. I told you, didn’t I? And what did you do?’
‘She’s been here every time I’ve been here, sitting in the waiting room. And just think, three and a half years is a long time to sit in a waiting room.’
Reg turned his head slowly and looked at Agnes, and he muttered something that could have been taken for ‘Sorry.’ Then he turned from them both and went to the window, and there he said, ‘You’d better tell her about the meeting.’
Agnes looked enquiringly at Charles, and after a moment he explained about…the meeting. And her reaction again was, ‘Oh, no! No!’ And forgetting for the moment that it was a different man she was speaking to, she went to the window and took hold of his arm and turned him to her, and again she said, ‘Oh, no! That is your home, and you will come back to it some day.’
‘I won’t, Agnes.’ The fact that he had given her her full name seemed to add a finality to his words. ‘As Charlie has said, I’m taking on a kind of post here. I’m needed here.’
‘You’re needed at home. You could bring Flynn with you. And there’s your staff. And they’re still your staff and would welcome you with open arms.’
‘And I could walk in the walled garden, as Charlie here has suggested; no-one need see me outside. Oh, Agnes, what a prospect of life. It isn’t worth much now, but here you know you’re of some use and people don’t turn away when they see you, and people still laugh and people are not sorry for you. That’s the worst, people being sorry for you. The fact that there’s something wrong with you that makes people feel sorry for you. That is the worst.’
‘Oh, Reg, my dear.’ Her head was moving slowly now from side to side. ‘If…if you’d come home, we’d both be with you, wouldn’t we, Charles?’ She turned and looked at her husband, and he said, ‘Oh, yes, yes.’
‘There now, doesn’t that make a difference?’
‘It’s very kind of you, but now it’s all cut and dried, as they say: the papers have been signed, the house and all it means belongs to you both; and this is going to be my home for the rest of my days. Here, I have firm friends, good friends. Come along. Come and meet them…’
She met his friends. Captain Ridley, Captain Fitzpatrick, Captain Braithwaite, Major Rainton. And she met Flynn. And when they left the hospital and drove back to the place that she now owned jointly with her husband, she knew she had never before felt so sad or empty or lost.
PART SEVEN
1922
One
It was nineteen twenty-two and it was Charles’ thirty-fourth birthday. The day had been bright and even warm for October. That was weather for you, people said; you never knew where you were with it. But wasn’t it wonderful, Alice had said, for all of them to be able to enjoy these wonderful gardens and grounds, and had they ever seen Betty Alice as happy as she had been today? First of all being spoilt by all the indoor staff, and then Mr Williams showing her all the animals and giving her a ride on his granddaughter’s pony, which he had been allowed to keep in one of the fields.
Mrs Mitcham had set out a grand birthday tea and there was a huge iced cake with ‘Happy Birthday Mr Charles’ in coloured icing.
Ten people sat down at the table. Four were on their first visit to the house, three of these being the Miss Cardings, and each of them in turn kept the company laughing with stories of the customers who bought their hats. The fourth stranger was Robbie’s mother, Betty Felton. Agnes had placed her next to herself in the hope that it would make her feel at ease, and if Mrs Felton was really at ease then it must have struck her almost dumb, because all she seemed to be able to say was, ‘Ta’. And during all the chatter, she sat there, her eyes roving as far as they could over the contents of the dining room.
Alice had said to Agnes previously, that he, which meant Robbie, said his ma was lonely now that his other two brothers were living at the other end of the country. She had lost two sons during the war and now she was on her own. And apparently he saw it as his duty to have her to dinner on Sundays, and as this party was on a Sunday he had said to Alice, ‘What about it?’ And apparently she had replied, ‘She’ll have to behave herself.’ And he had promised he would see to it.
Robbie must have, and successfully, for the boisterous fighting dame could not have been more subdued. It wasn’t until she was about to take her leave that she spoke, and then it was in a low voice that she said to Agnes, ‘An’ to think wor Robbie has come to this. An’ it’s all through you, you know.’
Agnes had always understood that the first part of the saying inferred that the person in question could fall no lower; but she knew what Betty meant, and when she added, ‘And when he told me yesterda’ that you were gona take ’im into partnership in the shops, I cried, I did. Aye, I did. I admit I cried, ’cos he’s the only one of the bunch that’s been worth a toss. I wouldn’t give a tinker’s cuss for me other two, ’cos they wouldn’t give you a brass farthin’, or the smoke that went up the chimney,’ Agnes had patted her on the shoulder, saying, ‘He’s a bright lad and he would have got on in whatever work he took up.’ And she had the satisfaction of seeing the big, blowsy, fighting woman going away happy.
Jessie too whispered to her, on their point of departure, ‘Thanks, Aggie. She’s mesmerised, but she’s had a wonderful day. We all have. And the three old dears’—she nodded to where Charles was walking them to one of the two cars on the drive—‘it’ll be all over the town tomorrow, even to the colour of the napkins.’ Then she kissed Agnes, ending, ‘Thanks for everything, Aggie.’
Agnes had pushed her away without making any reply.
When all the goodbyes had been said, she stood by Charles’ side, waving to the two cars, her own driven by Frankie Watson, the boy who had started out as a yard lad, now taking the three ecstatic ladies home.
When, a few minutes later, arm in arm, they entered the hall she said, ‘Come and sit yourself down.’ She didn’t add, ‘You look tired. Very tired,’ but instead said, ‘It’s been a wonderful day, hasn’t it?’
‘Wonderful, darling, wonderful. But I can’t believe I’m thirty-four; yet I know I look forty.’
‘You don’t. That’s your trouble, you seem to have stood still for years.’
When they entered the drawing room he started to cough, and she said, ‘I’ll get your bottle,’ but between gasps he said, ‘No, no. Come and sit…down.’
‘You sit there; I’m going to get your medicine. You don’t take it at regular times, and you’ve been told. Wait till Bouncing Baker comes again, I’ll tell him.’
‘Bouncing…Baker. What made you call him that…in the first place?’
‘Well, it’s the way he comes in, as Mother would say, like a devil in a gale of wind. And he always talks at the top of his voice.’
‘He’s…he’s a good doctor. I was lucky to get him.’
‘Oh, no doubt. But I wish he wouldn’t shout. Anyway, sit quiet there, I won’t be a minute.’
‘Ring the bell.’
‘No; I think they’re all in the hall having their meal, finishing up the rest of the cake. It won’t take me a minute.’ And she hurried from the room. But as she began to mount the stairs she stopped for a moment as she heard him begin another bout of the hard racking coughing that was worrying her more and more.
She spent a few minutes in the closet before she picked up the medicine bottle from the dressing room and she heard him still coughing as she descended the stairs; but when she reached the hall he had stopped.
McCann was coming from the direction of the kitchen, and when he said, ‘It’s been a wonderful day, ma’am,’ she turned towards him and replied, ‘Yes, McCann, it has been a wonderful day; and it was a lovely meal. I’m going in in a moment to thank Mrs…’
The last word trailed away and they both turned to look towards the drawing-room door, and the sound they heard brought her running forward and he hurrying after her.
And what they saw when
they entered the room brought them one after the other to a momentary halt before rushing forward again, for Charles was lying bent slightly to one side, his head resting on the edge of the couch, and he was vomiting blood.
Doctor Baker’s voice for once was not loud. He turned from the bed, saying to Agnes, ‘He’ll rest for a while now. I’ll be back in an hour or two’s time.’ She watched him pick up his bag, then she followed him from the room and, on the landing, she looked at him and said, ‘He’s…he’s very ill?’
‘Yes. Yes, my dear, he’s very ill.’
‘Is he…?’
‘What are you asking, is he going to die? Well, all I can say is he won’t live for long. I’ve just told him he should go into hospital, but even there they wouldn’t be able to stem this tide. And as he’s refused, that’s that. There are other members of the family, aren’t there? Well, my dear, I think they should be told.’
‘It will be difficult. His sister has just been married again and is on her honeymoon; her husband is the First Officer on a…a cargo vessel.’
‘A cargo vessel?’ She saw his nose wrinkle, and she repeated, ‘A cargo vessel.’
‘Oh, that’ll be a rough ride for a honeymoon.’
‘I don’t think she’ll mind a rough ride. She’s very happy. We were at her wedding a fortnight ago.’
‘I thought there was one married with a family of children.’
‘Yes; it was her. She divorced her husband.’
‘Divorced?’ His eyebrows were raised.
‘Yes, divorced, and not before time. But she has found a very, very kind man, and I’m sure she’ll be very happy. In any case, the boat was bound for some far island. I’ve forgotten the name at the moment.’
‘What about the brothers?’
‘One is in a monastery and the other is in hospital.’
‘Oh yes, I’ve heard about that one, permanently disfigured. Isn’t that so?’
‘Yes. Yes, that’s so.’
‘Can he walk?’
‘Yes, with the aid of a stick.’
‘Then I don’t see why he shouldn’t come and see his brother. I would get in touch if I were you. Well, as I said, I’ll look in later.’ He walked away, and after a moment’s hesitation she opened the bedroom door and went back in.
Charles watched her approach and when she reached the bedside he put out one hand to her and said, ‘Darling.’ And she answered, ‘Yes, my dear. What is it?’
‘I…I want to thank you…for all the happiness you’ve…you’ve given me.’
She couldn’t speak. She knew if she opened her mouth she would wail.
‘Now…now you’re not going to upset yourself. We knew it was coming, didn’t we? And…and you are the sensible one.’
‘Don’t. Don’t.’ It was as if his words were torturing her and he was pressing them into her.
‘Listen, darling. I want to see Reg. Would you ask him to come…The bouncer’—he tried to smile—‘he’s given me the needle and…and I’ll go off to sleep shortly but…but I’d like to see Reg. Would you ask him?’
‘Yes, dear, right away. Here’s McCann.’ She turned and glanced towards the door; then bending, she put her lips to his wet brow before turning quickly from his bed.
Down in the hall, she got through to the hospital and asked if she could speak to Lieutenant-Colonel Farrier. And as she waited, she watched the toing and froing of members of the staff crossing the hall. It seemed they were walking on tiptoe, all in deference to an end long awaited.
Her head swung round when she heard Reginald’s voice: ‘Is that you, Aggie? What’s wrong?’
‘It’s…it’s Charles. He’s…he’s very ill.’
‘What do you mean, very ill?’
‘Just what I say.’ Her voice rose, then dropped to a whisper as she ended, ‘He’s…he’s dying, Reg.’
‘No! He was here yesterday. He…he was all right, coughing a bit, but all right.’
‘He…he hasn’t been all right for months. He’s had a very bad attack. The doctor’s been and said—’ She closed her eyes tightly before she could finish with the words, ‘it could happen soon.’
When there was silence on the phone, she said, ‘Are you there?’ And his voice came with an edge to it, saying, ‘Of course I’m here.’
‘You must come.’
When again there was silence, she cried, ‘Do you hear me? He’s asking for you. You’ve always meant so much to him. Don’t you understand? He wants to see you and you must come.’
His voice was very low as he said, ‘Keep the staff out of the way.’
‘The staff know all about you. They’ll be only too pleased to see you.’
‘Oh, for God’s sake, Aggie. They remember me as I was. Anyway, do as I say: keep them out of the way.’
‘You’ll come straight away then?’
‘I’ll have to inform the super. But I should be there within the hour. What about Henry?’
‘I am going to ring him too.’
‘Strange, I can walk out, but he might have a job to get past the religious red tape.’
When she heard the phone being banged down at the other end she stared into the mouthpiece for a moment, thinking: yes, he’s quite right. He can walk out; but since Henry had joined this Order eighteen months ago they hadn’t seen him. At Christmas they had received a most merry letter from him and three bottles of the monastery’s wine, in the making of which he had said jokingly he had had a hand, as he had washed the bottles. They’d had one letter from him since, a short one, and after reading it Charles had said, ‘Henry’s happy. You can smell it from the page.’
And so she wondered if it was any use phoning the monastery; but she did so and a cheery voice answered her. And when she explained why she was ringing, the voice informed her that Brother Henry was at that moment in the Chapel and he’d be there for another hour, because it was Compline. But he would inform Father Abbot, who in turn would inform Brother Henry. In the meantime, he himself would pray for the soul of Henry’s brother. God bless you. And that was that.
She remained seated at the telephone table for a few moments longer and looked around the hall. The light from the two chandeliers suspended from the high ceiling was casting a warm glow over the whole room, subduing the colours, blending them harmoniously. It was a beautiful room, with a wide shallow staircase winding away slowly upwards. All the rooms in the house were beautiful. She had made few changes since circumstances had forced her to take over. However, she had never really considered that she belonged here even though she owned half of it and soon would own it all.
She almost sprang from the chair. She mustn’t think of that. She wouldn’t think of that. She wouldn’t let him die. He mustn’t. He mustn’t, because even in his sickness, he had been her bulwark. He was the force that kept the doors of her mind closed against the terrifying truth.
When she reached the bedroom, McCann whispered to her, ‘He’s fighting the injection, ma’am. But he seems a lot easier.’
As she stood by the bedside and looked down on the thin, wan face, she saw the lips move and she said softly, ‘What is it, dear?’
‘Reg,’ he said.
‘He’s coming, my dear,’ she assured him; ‘he’ll be here very soon.’
His eyelids opened slowly and he smiled as he said, ‘Thank you, darling. Now I’ll go to sleep.’
Mary Tyler stood in the kitchen looking from the cook to Rose Pratt, as she said, ‘Eeh! I could have died when I opened the door. But not exactly then, ’cos he was half covered up, with his trilby hat pulled down and his coat collar turned up. It was when he stood in the hall and took his hat and coat off and he looked me fully in the face. Eeh! I thought, what a mess. Poor devil. Yet, when he looked at me I saw his eyes were all right; and then he spoke and somehow it was funny, it didn’t matter. And I made meself laugh inside by saying, Well, I’ve seen worse and they haven’t been burnt.’
‘There’s nothing to laugh about, Mary Tyler.’
Cook glowered at the young girl. ‘You should have seen him before this happened. He was the best-looking fella in the county, or anywhere else for that matter. It’s a shame unto God, that’s what it is. Yet, on the whole, he’s not as bad as I expected. Of course, as Mr McCann says, he’s been patched up so many times, most of his face is new. But as he also says, his voice hasn’t altered and he still carries himself like a soldier, even with a foot gone.’
‘He doesn’t walk badly either.’ Rose Platt nodded at Cook now. ‘Just a slight limp. You really wouldn’t think he had a false foot. And I think the mistress was right: she said we must go about and act normal and remember that he was still Mr Reginald, and to look him straight in the face.’
‘How long has he been upstairs now?’
‘Well’—Mary again looked from one to the other—‘it was just gone half-past seven last night when I let him in, and Mr McCann says he’s sat at the side of the bed for most of the night, because he told him to go and have a rest. And then there’s the mistress. She looks as if she had lost all the blood in her body an’ all, because I don’t think she’s slept a wink. Neither of them have had a real bite of breakfast. Coffee and toast; you can’t last out on that.’
‘What’ll happen when the master goes? Will she, I mean the mistress, keep the place going, d’you think?’
‘I doubt it,’ said Rose; ‘not on her own, as my Peter said. He’s always thought she’s hankered after Newcastle and the shops. Well, you know, it was her business and she was brought up there.’
‘By God! It’ll be a sorry day for us if this place closes. I’ve spent my whole life here.’ The cook looked around her large spruce kitchen and when Mary Tyler said, ‘Well, I suppose there’ll be other jobs going,’ she rounded on her, crying, ‘You don’t know you’re born, girl! There’s not many houses like this. Good wages, good food, and treated like human beings. And it’s always been the same, not just since the young one has come. It was the same in the Colonel’s time and his lady. Now, she was born a lady. Not that I’m saying anything against this one, I’m not, but the other one was born to it, if you know what I mean. So, get yourself away.’ And she added, ‘Find out what’s going on upstairs…’
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