‘Surely the German Luftwaffe are more superior in the air. The British will need all the support it can gather,’ George said, and sipped at a large glass of red wine. His cheeks were red, and his eyes had a glassy shimmer.
‘I want to fly a plane, but I can’t ’cos I am a girl,’ Rose chipped in and interrupted her father’s question. Jackson turned to her and appeared to be grateful for her statement.
‘Have you never heard of Amelia Earhart?’ he asked. ‘And Hanna Reitsch – both women pilots.’
‘Really? Well, I want to be one when I grow up,’ Rose declared.
‘You will have better planes to fly by then, no doubt,’ Elenor chipped in, delighted in the change of conversation. ‘How wonderful, to be able to follow a dream.’
‘Do you have a dream, Elenor?’ Jackson asked.
‘She needs to sing and be famous. My favourite thing is to hear Elenor sing, isn’t it Mummy?’ Rose said, looking at her mother.
Victoria gave a small smile. ‘It is. Elenor has a fine voice.’
‘My niece has the voice of an angel, Mr St John, and after our meal I insist she sings to us. Young Rose can play us a tune on the piano. A talented pair. Oh, and of course, George. He plays a note or two, don’t you, George?’
All heads turned to George. His alcohol-flushed face tried to focus on one and then the other, eventually giving up and downing the remainder of his glass.
Victoria leaned across and it dawned on Elenor that Victoria had topped up his glass more than once during their conversation.
‘Oh dear, I fear we’ve overfilled his glass. Victoria, feel free to take your husband for a walk this afternoon. We will entertain his guest. He won’t remember much if he stays. Still, it is Christmas so who can blame him?’ Elenor said, and gave an innocent smile to both her aunt and Jackson. Her aunt gave a wide grin back at her.
‘Victoria, leave the dishes and take the afternoon off. We will worry about the kitchen this evening. Young Rose, come with me and we will choose two tunes for you to play.’
George gave a snort and rose from his seat. He tottered for a moment and everyone waited to see which way he would fall. He reached for a glass of water and drank it down in noisy slurps. Elenor and Rose giggled, but Maude banged the table.
‘George. Enough. Take yourself out for some air with Victoria.’ Her voice boomed around the room. ‘My apologies, Mr St John. Come Rose. Victoria, your husband.’ Maude pointed to the door. Victoria jumped from her seat and escorted her husband from the room.
Chapter 16
Elenor remained in her seat and watched the four leave. When they had closed the door, Jackson burst out laughing and she could not help but join him.
‘I’m sorry you had to see that, Jackson. I think my aunt handled it well. She is so old-fashioned in her ways at times, she will be horrified by his behaviour.’
‘If I am honest, Elenor, I am rather pleased. He’s a bore. He has no humour. His wife is not the talkative type, either. But Rose, oh what a great kid she is, so entertaining with her questions.’
‘She is, and she’s a loving little thing. If only her parents could see it in her. Do you have any young children in your family?’ Elenor asked.
Jackson smiled. ‘I do. My sister has twins. Boys. They are a handful, but she’s a good mother and copes well. I’m afraid I spoil them, as do most of our family. I miss the little guys. You? Do you have other family?’
Elenor watched Jackson lean back in his chair. He had an easy manner about him and it helped her relax. She knew her aunt had instigated the removal of Rose and her parents in order to give her some time alone with their visitor, and she was grateful. The longer she was in his company, the more she experienced new emotions. His voice soothed and calmed her with its friendly, soft accent. With reluctance she was reminded of her brothers with his question, and the comparisons stood out.
‘I have twin brothers. Sadly, I am not considered their sister, more of a housekeeper.’
Jackson gave a frown.
‘What do your parents think of their behaviour?’
With a slow shake of her head, Elenor looked at him and chewed at her bottom lip to prevent tears forming.
‘My parents are dead. I was very fond of my mother but sadly she died when I was young. My father was of the same opinion as my brothers.’
Jackson reached out and touched her hand, and Elenor made no attempt to move hers away, it was another new experience to be savoured.
‘I’m sorry, Elenor. That’s dreadful to hear. Thank goodness for Mrs Matthews. She’s very fond of you, it is clear in the way she looks at you. Mother to daughter affection.’
The gentle squeeze of her hand sent an explosion of feelings through Elenor. If this was what love did to a person, she wanted more. His kind nature and the way he looked at her made Jackson desirable in a way she could not describe. She was not sure she should feel such things, but the pleasure they gave was not to be ignored.
‘Aunt Maude scared me when I arrived, but she’s a gentle woman in many ways. I love her dearly and it saddens me to see her health deteriorating so rapidly. She reminds me of my own mother. They were sisters. She has no children, so I try and help where I can, and enjoy the time we have left.’
Another gentle squeeze sent her into a frenzy of internal turmoil, and Elenor slowly removed her hand from his. His eyes looked deep into hers and for a moment the world stood still. Her heart beat out a rhythm so fast she felt sure it would burst.
‘I think my aunt has found the music for Rose now. Maybe we should join them.’
A playful smile flittered across Jackson’s lips.
‘Or maybe not,’ he said.
‘You really must hear Rose play, she is talented, and it is worth listening to her.’
Jackson stood up and walked to her chair. He leaned into her neck, close enough for her to feel his breath tease the hairs and send tingles across her shoulders.
‘And I understand I will have the pleasure of listening to you sing. Such a treat cannot be missed.’
He eased her chair back from the table and Elenor stood upright trying hard not to get too close. She was convinced the effect he was having on her would not be deemed ladylike by her aunt.
‘I think we should join them,’ she said, and with reluctance walked to the door. She turned and gave him a soft smile.
‘Thank you for caring about me,’ she said and walked into the hall to join the others. She hoped she didn’t look too flushed and her heart would settle into a natural rhythm by the time she reached the front room.
‘Ah, there you are.’
Aunt Maude greeted them as they entered.
‘Sit yourselves down. Oh, George, Victoria, you are joining us?’
Elenor turned to see George step into the room behind his wife, and both stood facing her aunt.
‘I’d like to apologise for my bad manners over lunch, Mrs Matthews. The wine was stronger than I realised. Forgive me. I’d like to hear Rose play if you will allow us to stay.’
Elenor sat and watched her aunt ponder his words.
‘Thank you for your apology. However, I think it is best directed to Mr St John, he is here at your invitation.’
Jackson waved away her words with a flip of his hand.
‘No apology needed, Mrs Matthews. Wine has a way of embarrassing us when we least expect it.’
‘Then let’s all sit and enjoy ourselves.’ Elenor’s aunt sat in her chair and all attention focused upon the piano.
Rose climbed onto the piano stool and wiggled herself into a comfortable position. She turned to check her audience were seated and hit the first key. Her tiny fingers moved across the keys with accurate precision, and a haunting, solemn tune sounded out around the room. The deep, slow, and almost funereal notes sent shivers along Elenor’s arm and neck. She looked at Rose’s parents. George stood with his eyes closed, his hands behind his back and swayed on his heels. Victoria had her head drooped to her chest, and her hands were
white across her knuckles as they sat in her lap. Elenor could see she’d dug her nails into the side of her left hand. The music had such an effect on Victoria a tear slithered down her cheek. Both parents did not look at their child. Nor did they look her way when the music sped into a higher crescendo and Rose’s arms raced up and down with expert rhythm. Elenor was mesmerised and could see Maude and Jackson were drawn into the music in much the same way. When George moved his arm across to Rose to indicate it was time to finish, Elenor was disappointed, and almost exhausted with holding her breath in awe. With a final twiddle of the keys, Rose ran her finger along all the keys, slammed her hands down twice and it was over. With no hesitation, Elenor and Jackson jumped to their feet and clapped. Maude gave a polite clap, and Victoria sat staring at Rose. George went to the piano, picked up the music and put it into his case seated by a chair. Their lack of enthusiasm now annoyed Elenor. The child had excelled at something quite incredible and neither of them showed any joy. Rose clambered off her stool and took a bow. Elenor went to Rose, knelt down and gave her a hug when she noticed neither parent prepared to applaud the child’s talent.
‘Oh well done, Rose. My goodness, what an accomplished player you are. I have never heard you play like that before. Have you practised in secret when I’ve not been here?’
‘Daddy has been giving me secret lessons.’
‘Isn’t it wonderful, Victoria? You must be very proud,’ Elenor said.
Victoria stood up and walked towards the door. She turned around and looked across at George, then to Rose.
‘We all have different tastes in music. You played it well and your father is a good teacher. I would rather hear you play something a little more light-hearted.’
Elenor didn’t miss the dark stare between Rose’s parents before Victoria left the room.
‘What was it called, Rose? The music, what is it?’ Jackson asked.
Rose thought for a moment.
‘‘Moonsinata.’’
George corrected her, his voice more like a teacher than a father.
‘It is “Moonlight Sonata” by the great composer, Beethoven, Rose. A song very dear to my heart, which is why I have encouraged you to practise so hard. You played well. A few mistakes, but well enough your audience would not have noticed.’
‘Well, I think it was a splendid performance,’ Maude said and patted the seat beside her. ‘Come and sit here, I think you deserve a treat. Elenor, sing for us please.’
Rose wiggled into her seat. ‘Yes please, sing please.’
‘I’ve a feeling we are all in for a treat,’ said Jackson and sat grinning at Elenor. Whenever asked to sing in the past, she’d had a few nervous twitches inside, but today she felt more nervous than ever.
‘Forgive me. Not today …’
‘There is no excuse. Keep an old lady happy and sing one song for me. A Christmas carol, anything.’
Elenor knew there was no arguing with her aunt. She had to overcome her nerves of performing in front of Jackson. She also knew the perfect song.
‘Rose, we could do our song. We’ve practised it enough.’
‘Yes, I love playing it for you. Elenor’s going to sing “Heart and Soul.”’
A bemused Aunt Maude looked at them both as they settled in their places.
‘I don’t recall this one. Don’t keep us in suspense,’ she said and gave a little clap.
After a first nervous faulty note, Elenor lost herself in the song, and Rose played along.
When they’d finished, Jackson and her aunt stood and applauded them both. Elenor giggled and grinned at Rose.
‘Isn’t she good, Jackson?’ Rose said.
‘Little lady, you were both a treat to listen too, and I agree, Elenor has a beautiful voice.’
Giving him a mock curtsey Elenor enjoyed the attention he gave her.
‘It was beautiful. The words – perfect, Elenor,’ her aunt said.
‘Thank you. I’m parched after that, I’ll pop down and make a cup of tea. Jackson, would you enjoy a cup, or something stronger. I think we have a beer.’
‘And have me end up like George?’ Jackson laughed, and shook his head. ‘Tea is just fine, thank you. Let me help you.’
‘No, thank you. I’ll leave you to chat a while.’
Elenor needed to catch her breath. To step away from the man bringing her senses alive each time he looked her way.
In the kitchen she found Victoria washing dishes.
‘I thought my aunt told you to leave them, Victoria. You should take some time for yourself.’
Victoria stopped rinsing plates and dried her hands.
‘I enjoy the peace of the kitchen. I’ll bring the tray, Elenor,’ she said and lifted down the china from the cupboard. ‘You bring the cake.’
Back in the company of Jackson, Elenor listened to the conversation he and her aunt were enjoying.
‘Jackson was telling us of his great-great-grandmother. She was an Indian. Isn’t that correct, Jackson?’
Elenor laid down the tray of tea cups, and Victoria followed through with her own laden tray. It amused Elenor to hear her aunt drop all formalities and call Jackson by his first name.
‘How fascinating. Tell us more. Was she from India? I know that from the atlas,’ she said.
Jackson accepted his cup of tea and slice of cake and placed them on the table beside him.
‘No, she was Canadian Indian, of the Squamish people. Catori was her name, it means spirit. My great-great-grandfather found her after she’d fallen from rocks near his family farm. His mother took her in, and the rest is my history. I get my dark hair and eyes from her bloodline, I think.’
Rose sat cross-legged on the floor and rested her head in her cupped hands. Elenor saw the fascination flicker across her face and waited for the inevitable question waterfall. She didn’t have to wait long.
‘Did she have a bow and arrow? I saw a picture of Indians dancing around a fire, did she dance? Did she live in a tent and carry her babies on her back?’
Jackson put up his hand to stem the flow and gave a loud infectious laugh.
‘No. Maybe, possibly. Does that help? She lived on the farm after she married my great-great-grandfather, so maybe, before he found her, she lived in a tee-pee – a kind of tent.’
‘What a wonderful family history to have run through your tree, Jackson,’ Aunt Maude said.
‘How romantic,’ said Victoria, and everyone looked at her.
‘See the effect your great-great-grandparents’ story has had. Even Victoria enjoyed it. I can see my niece is also fascinated. Maybe you can add it to your Canadian project, Elenor. With Jackson’s permission of course.’
Elenor nodded. ‘I’d like that, could I, Jackson?’
‘I’d be honoured. What is your project?’
Before she could answer her, her aunt spoke.
‘Elenor has the urge to visit some of the countries she’s found in her atlas. Canada was her first study after she met your grandfather. It keeps her occupied for hours.’
The heat rose up her neck and Elenor knew she was blushing. It happened a lot around Jackson.
‘Well, I’ll have to see this project, and maybe I can add to it when I return to Canada. I could write to you about my homeland, and its history.’
Rose jumped up with her arm in the air.
‘Me, me. Would you write to me, Jackson and tell me about the Indians? Pleeease!’
Victoria stepped towards her daughter. Her face no longer wore a dream-like stare she’d worn when listening to Jackson. It was dark and thunderous.
‘Sit down child. You have no manners. Better still, take these into the kitchen. Thank Mrs Matthews for a lovely day and go find your father.’ She turned to Maude and Jackson. ‘Thank you for a pleasant day. Goodbye Mr St John, thank you for telling us about your family. Elenor.’ Victoria picked up the trays, stacked the dishes and left the room with a disgruntled Rose.
Elenor’s aunt rose to her feet. ‘I think I’
ll take myself for a rest. I tire so easy nowadays. No, no. Stay and keep my niece company,’ she said to Jackson as he went to stand up.
Elenor saw her aunt out and sat back down.
‘Well, that was a visit to entertain you,’ she said.
‘It was entertaining for many reasons, Elenor. I thank my grandfather for one of them,’ Jackson said, and to Elenor’s surprise his cheeks flushed red.
‘Your poor grandfather’s foot. I’ll never forget my attempt to enter that revolving door.’
‘And I’ll never forget your birthday tea.’
‘Your ribs, your poor ribs.’
Jackson took a step towards her.
‘They protect my heart.’
‘Jackson. I …’
Before she could say any more, Elenor experienced her first kiss.
Chapter 17
A few days after Jackson’s visit an envelope landed on the mat and for once, Elenor reached the post before George. It was addressed to her and her heart skipped a beat as she slid the letter opener along the sealed lip and pulled out the letter.
Jackson St John,
C/O RAF Hullavington,
Wiltshire,
England.
Dear Elenor,
I hope this letter finds you and your aunt well. I am writing this sheltering from a flurry of snow. It is nothing to what I am used to in winter, but it is managing to make me nostalgic for skiing days of the past.
I hope you have forgiven me for making such a bold move the day I visited. I left so soon after my embarrassing faux-pas as it seemed the right thing to do. It took me by as much surprise as it did you. You moved me with your song. Everything about you moves me. When I mentioned my great-great-grandmother’s name, and what it stood for, I thought of how like you she might have been. A woman with spirit, strong, and yet vulnerable. Kind and gentle. Beautiful. Knowing you are probably blushing right now, I will stop writing about you, and write about me.
I am writing to say I will be in Coventry in three weeks’ time and invite you to join me for afternoon tea in the place we first met. I would like to call for you around three in the afternoon, on Monday January 16th.
The Secret Orphan Page 9