by Carol Rivers
‘You’d better tell me, Gracie,’ Hilda said threateningly. ‘Or I’ll go to Mrs Harris meself and find out.’
‘Ouch. You’re ’urting me arm.’
‘Well then?’
‘Everyone knows. I thought you did,’ Gracie said. ‘It’s the master and Lady Gabriella. They’re . . . they’re—’
‘What are they?’ Hilda’s brown eyes were fixed on Gracie’s face.
‘They are engaged.’
Flora saw Hilda blink and shake her head as if she hadn’t heard.
‘Engaged?’ Hilda repeated, her bottom lip trembling. She stared at Gracie.
‘I ain’t tellin’ fibs,’ replied Gracie, nervously licking her lips. She pushed the wisps of mousey fringe under her cap. ‘They’re to be wed.’
‘That’s very good news, isn’t it?’ Flora broke the strained silence. ‘A marriage at Adelphi. How lovely that will be.’
‘She’s plain and dowdy and just horrible!’ Hilda spat.
‘She has a mare’s girth,’ Gracie pointed out, ‘just right for child-bearing.’
Flora stared at her friend. They had enjoyed such a lovely afternoon. And Hilda had been touched when Flora had gone back to the car for her sewing bag, delivered with Mrs Bell’s message. They had discussed Will and, despite Hilda still pleading a weak stomach for hospitals, she had promised to visit Will frequently, if she was allowed.
But now, Hilda’s change in mood was evident. What did this engagement mean to her?
‘I’ve got to go.’ Gracie piled the dishes on the tray. ‘It’s been nice seeing yer, Flora.’
‘You too, Gracie.’
‘And if you can knock some sense into ’er ’ead, please do!’ Gracie nodded at Hilda and quickly left.
‘What did she mean?’ Flora asked when they were alone.
‘Search me.’ Hilda looked under her brown lashes.
‘Hilda, what’s wrong?’
Hilda sniffed, wiping the end of her nose with the back of her hand. ‘Oh, Flora, how could he do such a thing to me?’
‘Who?’ Flora said, handing Hilda a handkerchief.
‘I can’t say.’ Hilda dabbed her eyes. ‘You’d tell me I was mad. Or worse, just bad.’
‘I’d never do that.’
‘Flora, I love him,’ Hilda spluttered.
‘Who?’ Flora asked again.
‘Lord Guy, of course.’
‘But you can’t love a lord. He’s marrying Lady Gabriella.’
‘He doesn’t want to, I’m sure,’ Hilda argued. ‘He’s only marrying her because his aunt says he must, for the money. It’s like that with rich people. If there’s no money in the family, you have to marry into it.’
‘But Adelphi is very wealthy,’ Flora said in surprise.
‘Gracie told me it’s the old earl who holds the purse strings and he won’t let ’em go to his family. Not till he dies, anyway.’
Flora sighed heavily. ‘Hilda, even if Lord Guy wasn’t marrying Lady Gabriella, he couldn’t marry you. What makes you think he would?’
‘Don’t you remember I wrote and told you about a special person?’
Flora blinked. ‘I thought you meant Lady Bertha. And Mrs Bell thought it was a footman.’
‘It was Lord Guy. Oh, Flora, I’m so unhappy. I ain’t ever been as unhappy as this before.’
‘But he can’t love a servant, Hilda. It just wouldn’t be right.’
Hilda jumped up, her cheeks bright with anger. ‘Well, he loves me! I know he does.’
‘Hilda, you’ll look back on this one day and smile.’
‘No I won’t. Not ever.’
‘This is just a girlish crush.’ Flora reached out.
‘You don’t understand,’ Hilda replied, roughly pushing her away.
‘What don’t I understand?’
‘I’m going to have his baby!’ Hilda screamed, her eyes bright with defiant tears. ‘That’s what you don’t understand!’
Dusk was settling amongst the trees and over the hills as Lillian drove them back to London. Flora sat in shocked silence.
‘Flora, what’s wrong?’ Lillian asked.
‘I don’t know if I should say.’
‘It will be kept in strict confidence,’ Lillian assured her.
‘It’s Hilda . . . she thinks she’s expecting.’
Lillian turned and gasped softly. ‘Is she certain?’
‘Yes.’
‘Has she seen a doctor?’
‘No. But she is feeling sick and has missed her monthly.’
Lillian looked thoughtful. ‘Please don’t be upset when I ask if Hilda knows who the baby’s father is.’
Flora hesitated. Should she tell Lillian what she knew? Lillian was, after all, Lady Bertha’s friend. ‘Hilda says she has been seeing Lord Guy.’
‘But Lord Guy is marrying Lady Gabriella!’ Lillian exclaimed.
‘Yes, but Hilda still loves him.’
Lillian was silent, staring at the road ahead. ‘What is she going to do?’
Flora shook her head. ‘Hilda doesn’t seem to know.’
‘She will lose her position at Adelphi.’ Lillian turned the wheel sharply. ‘The family will pull together and deny the affair. This is how it works in high places.’
‘But he should be made to admit what he’s done.’
‘That will never happen,’ Lillian replied tightly. ‘Bertie said that Guy’s last seizure was in spring of last year. Isn’t that when Hilda was ill?’
‘She told me today she wasn’t ill, but had broken her arm.’ Flora drew the blanket over her knees as it was growing cold. ‘It was after this that he was kind to her.’
‘A guilty conscience on his part?’ Lillian drove a little faster.
‘It could be, although Hilda doesn’t think of it like that.’
‘I wish I had known this afternoon. I could have challenged Bertie over the affair,’ Lillian said fiercely.
‘But you said the family would close ranks and deny it. And anyway, if you had, Lady Bertha might refuse to take Will.’
Lillian was silent as she gripped the wheel. Flora knew they were both aware that it would be Hilda who bore the consequences alone. Oh, if only Hilda hadn’t allowed that evil man his way. But even now, Hilda believed he was in love with her.
Flora wanted to ask Lillian to slow the car down. The hedgerows and bushes were flying by. She knew Lillian was very angry.
For Flora, the time passed slowly as she waited to hear news of Will. As she was so concerned for Hilda, she had taken Dr Tapper into her confidence and asked him if he could think of a solution. But though they talked at length about Hilda’s plight, there seemed no answer. Everyone knew that if a girl got into trouble in service, she was usually sent as far away from the family as possible.
‘But where will she go?’ Flora had continually worried. ‘What will happen to her child?’
‘Perhaps Lady Hailing will have her back,’ the doctor suggested as they spoke a few words together in the middle of a busy surgery. ‘But as for the infant . . .’
‘Will it be taken away from her?’
The doctor glanced sternly at her but said nothing. He couldn’t predict the future. And what a future it would be for Hilda, with no home and disgraced. Lord Guy would never admit his part in it and Hilda would be left to fend for herself.
The tears came close as she thought of Hilda and of all her dreams of becoming a lady’s maid. If only Hilda hadn’t given her heart to someone like Lord Guy.
But Hilda still believed he loved her, and would make her his wife when she told him about the baby.
If only that were so.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
At the end of July, Lillian arrived with news. ‘Will is safely at Adelphi,’ she said as she joined Flora and the doctor in the surgery. The day had been very busy, but now the waiting room was empty.
‘How is he? Do you know?’ Flora asked anxiously.
‘I received a telegram from Bertie this morning. She sai
d that she would make sure Will had the best of attention from the top doctors.’
‘Did she talk about Hilda?’
Lillian took Flora’s arm, her elegant figure and gentle manner reminding Flora of Michael. ‘I am afraid, my dear, that if Bertie knows of Hilda’s condition, she will not admit to it. The housekeeper will be given the task of sending Hilda away. And then—’
‘How can she?’ Tears burned in Flora’s eyes. ‘Why doesn’t she make Lord Guy face up to what he’s done?’
‘You know the answer to that, Flora. He is to marry Lady Gabriella and there can be no scandal.’
Flora bit down on her lip in an effort not to weep. It was so unfair. One law for the rich and another for the poor.
‘Come along, Flora,’ the doctor said quietly as he got up from his desk. ‘You aren’t responsible for Hilda now. Nor can you do any more for Will. Your two friends chose their paths in life and will have to act accordingly.’
This did not make Flora feel any better as she said goodbye to Lillian and left for the airey that night. She sat quietly with her treasures: her precious shawl and Michael’s letter, the butterfly brooch and her engagement ring. She thought of Michael and prayed for his safety.
Dr Tapper had given Flora the day off. It was August the 1st and Flora’s eighteenth birthday. She had put on Hilda’s blue suit and was going to Mass. She would ask the priest for prayers to be said for her friends. It was all she could do to help them.
When a tap came at the door, she was surprised to find a young boy there. He was dressed shabbily in a well-worn shirt and short trousers, but he had a clean face.
‘Are yer Flora Shine?’
‘Yes.’
‘Sister Superior sent me. You got to come now.’
Flora frowned. ‘To the orphanage?’
‘Yer.’
‘Do you know why?’
‘No, but do I get a sixpence for running the message?’
Flora nodded and went back inside. When she came out, he grabbed the money and ran up the steps.
‘Wait for me, I’ll come with you,’ shouted Flora, but all she saw was the back of his grubby boots.
As it was Wednesday, she caught the bus. Flora wondered what Sister Superior could want. Perhaps it was something to do with her birthday. Was there something else Sister Superior wanted to give her now she had reached eighteen?
Victoria Park was bathed in sunlight. It was a very hot day. She walked past the rows of identical houses and saw the convent’s tall bell tower. As usual, her heart beat faster at the sight of the place she had known as her only home. She walked briskly towards the red-brick building with its stained-glass windows.
The heavy iron gate creaked as she opened it. At the big double doors with the shining crucifix, she took a breath. As she stood waiting, she wondered if now was the time to ask Sister Superior about Hilda’s baby. After all, Hilda had grown up here. St Boniface’s was far better than the workhouse or an institution. Perhaps the nuns could even find work for Hilda, just as they had for Hilda’s mother. It would be history repeating itself, but at least Hilda wouldn’t be forced into something dreadful. Like a life on the streets.
Flora’s mouth dropped open as she sat in the convent visitors’ room. She couldn’t believe the sight before her eyes. Was it a holy apparition? Had Our Lady come down to answer her prayers?
‘God’s blessing on you, Flora.’ Sister Patricia, reed-thin and slightly stooped, stood in front of her. Her hands were clasped around her rosary as she made the sign of the cross. Sliding the rosary under the folds of her habit, she stepped forward.
Flora stood up. She wanted to run forward and embrace her old teacher. But she knew that nuns didn’t invite familiarity. Instead, Flora’s eyes filled with bright, happy tears.
‘What a beautiful young woman you have become.’
‘I didn’t think I would ever see you again,’ Flora mumbled, as she cleared her throat.
‘Nor I, you.’ Sister Patricia’s slender face and high cheekbones under the paper-thin skin made her look almost angelic. Her bright blue eyes were as radiant as ever. The white wimple followed the lines of her fragile bone structure and the black habit covered her entire body down to the floor. Flora thought how timeless she looked.
They sat down on the wooden chairs at the polished table. Flora had expected to see Sister Superior. And now, she was gazing into the face of the person who had taught her all she knew and encouraged her to help in the convent’s infirmary. Also, the one person who could tell her about her past.
‘Are you happy, Flora?’ the nun asked quietly, sitting upright, her hands folded in her lap.
‘Yes, sister. Very.’
‘Mother Superior has told me that Dr Tapper is very pleased with you. And I’m glad to hear that you settled into life at his surgery. During the four years I have spent at the Motherhouse in France, I’ve prayed for you.’
Flora felt honoured. Sister Patricia had always taken an interest in her and now Flora knew this interest had continued after she’d left the orphanage. ‘Thank you, sister. And I’ve prayed for you too.’
A soft smile touched the nun’s lips. ‘Then your prayers helped to bring me safely back to England with the help of our French brothers.’ She hesitated, lowering her eyes. ‘Many of my dear sisters were not so fortunate when the Motherhouse was . . . taken.’ She gave a soft breath, then added calmly, ‘Mother Superior tells me that Will Boniface is fighting at the Front and Hilda Jones is in service to the Talbott Estate.’
Flora nodded eagerly. She wanted to ask about the shawl, but knew there would be a right time. ‘Yes, but Will was wounded and brought back to Bristol Infirmary. He lost an arm in the fighting.’
‘I am very sorry to hear that.’
‘But now he is at Adelphi Hall,’ Flora rushed on, ‘where Hilda can visit him every day.’
‘Adelphi!’ Sister Patricia exclaimed. ‘He is at Adelphi Hall?’
‘Yes, sister. You see, part of the house is used as a hospital for the war-wounded and—’
‘My child,’ Sister Patricia interrupted sharply. ‘This is not good news.’
‘But Sister Patricia—’
Once again, the nun interrupted her. ‘Before you say anything more, I have something important to tell you.’ She took a quick breath and looked steadily into Flora’s eyes.
‘Is it about my mother?’
‘I opened the convent door to your mother. She stood there, as you did today, a child in her arms. She was desperate and terrified. After she told me her story, I took the infant, wrapped in the shawl. I gave her my promise that I would do all in my power to see that the child was kept safe.’
Flora felt as though the years were falling away. As though, finally, she was coming to know who she really was. ‘B . . . but why . . .? Why was I not safe?’
Sister Patricia answered softly. ‘That child was not you, Flora. It was Will, your half-brother. The year was December 1897. His father was the fourth Earl of Calvey. And his mother, a nurse to the young Lord Guy Calvey, was your mother.’
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Flora stared into the nun’s blue eyes. ‘Will – our Will – is the son of the old earl? Is my half-brother?’ she said incredulously.
Sister Patricia nodded. ‘Your mother, Constance, and the earl fell in love. But this love between a nurse and her high-born employer could never be. So the earl took your mother to safety, to a trusted farmer and his wife. There she gave birth to her first child, William. But the earl, a distinguished soldier, had to return to his regiment. While he was away, Lady Bertha Forsythe took steps to dispose of your mother and the baby. Fortunately, Constance escaped before the deed could be done. She fled to London and arrived here, at the orphanage.’
Flora shook her head in bewilderment. Could this be true? Was this incredible story her story too? ‘But, if Will was that child,’ she asked, ‘who am I?’
The nun replied slowly. ‘Your mother was in terror of her son being fou
nd by Lady Bertha. And so I took the boy in and arranged with the priest to find shelter for Constance. Over the next year and a half, I heard no more. But then on August the 1st 1899, a man arrived, with you in his arms, the child of his marriage to Constance Shine.’
Flora’s mind was whirling. ‘Who was he?’
‘Your father, a tavern keeper, protected your mother. He told me they were very happy for the short time they were together. They had been blessed with you, a daughter, but Constance was suffering from consumption. Your father had contracted the disease from her and the poor man himself was sick, close to death. Unable to safeguard your future, he brought you here to be reunited with your half-brother.’
‘What was my father’s name?’
‘He was John Devonish, a good Catholic, and a kind and gentle man. I cannot say if your mother loved him as much as he loved her. But he told me they both loved and treasured you.’
Flora closed her eyes and opened them. Was Sister Patricia about to disappear like a vision? Could all this be true? Her father was a tavern keeper called John Devonish and will was her half-brother. He had taken her to the orphanage for safety.
Then, as what she had been told fell into place, Flora gave a soft gasp. ‘But Will! Will is at Adelphi!’
‘And the very last place he should be,’ agreed the nun.
‘It was me who wanted him there.’ Flora felt sick. ‘What am I to do?’
Sister Patricia opened her thin, pale hands. ‘Should the family discover his true identity, his life may be in danger.’
Flora’s mind went to Constance and the terror she must have felt as she fled Adelphi Hall. ‘If the earl really loved my mother, he would have married her.’
‘Perhaps he was going to. Who is to know what really happened between them? But you must warn Will, at the very least, Flora. He must leave Adelphi.’
Flora sat silently. Thoughts were tumbling around in her mind. How could she help Will?
Hilda was deeply distressed. She had been feeling very sick. She knew the baby was making her feel ill.
‘What’s up?’ Gracie asked as she walked into the greenhouse.
‘Nothing.’
‘Mrs ’Arris wants more spuds.’