Too Close to the Sun

by Jess Foley

  ‘It’s not that,’ Grace said. ‘But I’m a restless sleeper lately, and he needs to get his rest.’

  ‘Well, if you’re set on it, I could get the truckle out for him. He’d be comfortable enough on that. Mind you, it’d cost extra – what with all fresh bedding to be supplied. It’s all extra work, my dear.’

  Grace said nothing, and Mrs Packerman waited; she could not but be aware of Grace’s lack of enthusiasm. ‘Well, it’s up to you, dear,’ she said. ‘I’m sure you won’t find anything similar at a better price.’

  Grace nodded. She was aware of this. And she could not continue as she was. She had come into Corster that morning with the express purpose of finding somewhere for Billy and herself to stay. Time was passing all too swiftly, and if she didn’t find a place soon, the two of them would find themselves on the street. She had chosen to look in Corster as, being a town, it was certain to offer more opportunities. And also, once she was living there she would surely find it a more convenient place from which to seek out work.

  This lodging house was the fifth one that Grace had visited, and with all its drawbacks, it nevertheless looked to be the most promising. Two of the others had just been far too expensive, a third had refused to have Billy there – ‘Sorry, miss, but no children,’ – and a fourth had been situated next to an abattoir, and the smells had so permeated the offered room that Grace had felt almost sick.

  So this one was the best that she had seen. And, she reminded herself, it didn’t have to be perfect; it wasn’t for ever, only until she got settled with a position. Then, once she was earning some money, she and Billy could look around and find something much nicer. Also, he could go back to school again, something he would want to do.

  And she had to decide on a room without delay. Now there was only a week to go before Bramble House had to be given back to Mr Grennell. She had thought briefly of going to see him again and pleading for a little more time, perhaps appealing to his better nature. But she could not. She had her pride and it would not allow her to stoop so low. She would manage. She and Billy would manage. Taking it a day at a time, all their obstacles would be overcome.

  ‘Yes,’ she said to Mrs Packerman, ‘I’ll take the room.’

  ‘And will you want the truckle, dear?’

  ‘No. We’ll manage without it, thank you.’

  Mrs Packerman gave a broad smile. ‘That’s fine, then, dear. And I’m sure you won’t regret it. When will you want it from?’

  ‘A week today, if that’s all right.’

  ‘Yes, that’s all right, dear. Though I shall need a deposit – the first week’s rent.’

  ‘Yes. Yes, of course.’ Grace opened her purse and began to count out coins.

  ‘And once you move in I shall want the remainder of a month’s rent in advance.’

  ‘A month’s rent?’ A month’s rent would be such a large sum, and would make a great dent in her finances. ‘Does it have to be a month?’ she said.

  ‘Oh, I’m afraid it does, dear. I’ve nothing against you personally, of course, as I don’t know you. But if you were aware of the number who try to do a moonlight flit the day before the rent is due, you’d understand. Sorry, my dear. Take it or leave it, that’s the way it is.’

  ‘All right.’ There was nothing else for it. Grace sighed. ‘I’ll have the money ready.’

  After leaving Mrs Packerman’s house Grace headed at once for home. There was no time to waste, for she had made an appointment for a dealer from Corster to visit Bramble House and look over the contents. The day before, she had been visited by one from Harbrook – a Mr Clemmer of Clemmer and Sons – the visit arranged by Mr Spencer who had gone to call on the man on Grace’s behalf. The dealer, a house-clearer by trade, had not spent long at the house; he hadn’t needed to; from long experience he had cannily, with a practised eye, taken in the contents of the house and Samuel Harper’s workshop.

  Grace stood by waiting while he walked around. At least the livestock had already been sold, she reminded herself. Mr Timmins from the nearby farm had called the day before, and after some deliberation had made Grace an offer for the creatures. She had accepted it, and later that day he had come with one of his farmhands and taken the animals away. The chickens, the goat, the pig, all had gone. Most affecting of all, though, was the loss of the Robin, the pony. Grace and Billy had wept when saying their goodbyes to him, and the two of them had turned away as he had been hitched up to the trap and driven out of the yard for the last time. They would never see him again.

  Now Mr Clemmer, having looked over the effects of the house and workshop, made Grace his offer. But the sum he had offered was so small, a pittance it seemed, and Grace had made a gentle protest.

  Yes, he had said, it was true that there were two or three good pieces, but there was also a great deal that he would never sell. She could, if she wished, go to an antiques dealer who would come and do his cherry-picking and pay her for three or four items – but what about the rest of it? ‘Do you want to be left with a house half full of worthless furniture and odds and ends?’ he said. ‘No dealer would go for that. Yet that’s all you’d be left with.’

  Then, seeing the dismay in her face, he had added, ‘Well, you think about it and make up your mind. Let me know in the next day or two.’

  And he had gone. And right away Grace had made enquiries about bringing another dealer to the house.

  And now, the arrangements made, the man was due at 4.30.

  By way of walking part of the way and taking a cab for part of the way, Grace reached Bramble House just on four. And fifteen minutes later the clearer’s wagon was pullling up in the yard and the man was climbing down.

  The visit was over in no time at all; he was there an even shorter time than the previous dealer. Grace took him on a tour of the house, pointing out various items of furniture etc. that she thought would be of special interest, and at intervals he gave little non-committal nods and turned down the corners of his mouth, as if careful not to show a trace of enthusiasm. And Grace found herself becoming increasingly dismayed. How could he not look at the lovely pieces that her father had made for her mother and not be impressed? The trouble was, there were so few of them. And her spirits sank further when she showed the man into her father’s workshop. He looked at Samuel’s treasured carpentry tools and seemed to sum up their value in seconds. Outside in the yard he stood in silence for a moment or two, eyes screwed up and cast heavenwards, and then made Grace his offer. It was even smaller than that given by the previous dealer.

  Was that the best he could do? she asked. Surely it was worth more than that.

  ‘I’m sorry, miss, but it is,’ the man said. ‘And I doubt you’ll get a better offer. Specially seeing as you’ve such little time left.’

  And that was part of the problem, Grace said to herself. Knowing that she had so little time before she had to vacate the house, any dealer would know that she was in the very weakest position. No matter how much she might have wished to, she could not hold out for a good price; there simply wasn’t time.

  When the man had gone, with Grace having told him that she would think about his offer – ‘Well, don’t be too long about it,’ he had said – she went back into the house and sat down at her little desk and immediately wrote to Mr Clemmer, the first dealer, and informed him that she would accept his offer. She would expect him, she added, on Friday the 9th of August which was the penultimate day of tenancy at the house. When the letter was finished, she signed and sealed it in an envelope. She would take it to the post office first thing in the morning.

  Also, in the morning she would send off further applications for positions. She had seen two more advertised in the papers, and she must look into them. So far she had had no luck. She had applied for four situations but for various reasons they had not worked out. One of them had offered insultingly low wages while at the same time demanding a great deal of work – the task of teaching five children under eleven was, in Grace’s eyes, a litt
le more than she would wish to take on. Not only that but it was requested that on regular occasions she would have to sleep over at the house. A second advertised position turned out to be for that of a resident governess, and since Grace had the responsibility of caring for Billy, the post was of course out of the question. A third situation would have been suitable, except that the prospective employer didn’t want the position filled for another two months, and Grace had to find something long before that time. The fourth situation she applied for turned out to have been filled by the time she turned up for her interview. She would persevere, however. In time she was bound to find something suitable. The trouble was, time was not on her side.

  Grace busied herself about the house, and a little later Billy came in, having spent the day at Timmins’s farm, helping with the harvest and generally giving a hand where he could. At the kitchen sink he washed his hands and face as Grace stood watching him. He would be so sorry to leave this place, she knew. And to go and live in the town would be an added cause for disappointment. All through the summer holiday he had spent as much time as he could at the farm, not only enjoying his labours and the feeling of being useful, but also earning a few pence for his efforts. Soon it must all come to an end, though: in just a week they would be leaving Bramble House – and who could say what the future would hold?

  Billy was hungry as usual, so as he sat down at the kitchen table Grace began to prepare some little refreshment for him, cutting a slice of bread and spreading it with strawberry jam. He was just about to begin eating when there was the sound of a horse’s hoofs in the yard, and looking through the open door they saw a horse and rider walk by. At once Billy got up from his chair and went to the door, turning back to Grace a moment later to say, ‘It’s a man. I don’t know who. I’ve never seen him before.’

  ‘Come back and sit down,’ Grace told him, then smoothed her hair and walked to the open door.

  As she reached it and looked out the man was hitching up the horse to the stanchion, and as he turned Grace recognized him. It was Mr Rhind, Mr Spencer’s man.

  She remained standing in the doorway as he walked towards her across the yard, touching his hat as he came.

  ‘Miss Harper,’ he said as he came to a stop before her, ‘I’ve come to bring a message from the missis at Asterleigh House.’ He spoke rather quickly. There was no charm about the man, no graciousness in his manner of speech to her. He stood as if uncomfortable in the situation, as if reluctant to be there and anxious to get the meeting over with.

  ‘Yes?’ Grace said. ‘Mr Rhind, isn’t it?’

  He nodded. As she faced him she thought again of the words he had spoken to her as she had got down from the trap on her return from Corster following her visit to the town. And thinking of them again she had to ask herself whether she had heard aright.

  Without wasting time, he said, ‘Mrs Spencer – she’d like you to come to the house tomorrow.’ He looked past her, his eyes taking in Billy as he stood beside the table. ‘And your young brother too,’ he added. ‘You’re to take him along with you.’

  ‘Did she say what for?’ Grace asked. ‘What is the reason?’

  ‘It’s not for me to know Mrs Spencer’s mind,’ he said. ‘She doesn’t confide in me. She merely instructed me to pass on the message – that you go and see her tomorrow, you and your brother. If you’re able to, then I’m to bring the trap for you at ten o’clock.’

  Grace turned in the doorway and looked at Billy who stood there listening, open-mouthed. ‘Did you hear that, Billy? No time at the farm for you tomorrow. We’re going to Asterleigh House.’

  Billy nodded in reply, and Grace turned back to the man.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘Please tell Mrs Spencer we’ll be ready to leave when you come for us tomorrow morning.’

  Grace and Billy were up early as usual the following morning, and when Rhind came in the trap they had been ready and waiting for some twenty minutes.

  He helped Grace up into the trap without managing to look directly at her, though to Billy he spoke not unkindly, saying, ‘Up you get, young man,’ as he handed him up through the door. And then they were off.

  He spoke hardly at all on the journey, and, slightly intimidated by his presence, Grace and Billy sat silent as they faced one another in the back of the trap.

  And at last they arrived at Asterleigh House.

  Without speaking, Rhind pulled up the mare in the back yard, got down and stepped smartly around to the rear where he opened the door and held out a hand to help Grace down. Ignoring his hand, she supported herself without his help, and on stepping down onto the flags, turned as Billy jumped down behind her. Rhind then moved to the back door of the house, pushed open the kitchen door and called out to one of the maids: ‘Visitors are here.’ Then, his duty done, he moved back to the horse and trap and, taking the cob by the bridle, led it away across the yard.

  Grace watched the man go, then turned as she heard a voice calling to her from the rear doorway. It was the housekeeper, Mrs Sandiston, who led them into the main part of the house. And once again they found themselves in the spacious hall, walking on the marble tiles and glancing about them at the tapestries and paintings that adorned the walls.

  Moving to a door, Mrs Sandiston came to a halt outside it. ‘If you’d like to wait here a moment,’ she said, ‘I’ll tell Mrs Spencer you’re here.’

  She tapped on the door, opened it and went in. Grace heard a murmur of voices from inside and then the woman re-emerged from the room.

  ‘If you’d like to go in, miss,’ she said, then added, gesturing to Billy, ‘The young man is to wait here for a minute.’ She turned, gesturing to a chair a few feet away beneath a tapestry showing a scene of the hunt. ‘Why don’t you sit down there, my dear?’

  His hat in his hands, Billy moved to the chair and sat down. Grace gave him a smile, then moved to the door and went in.

  She found herself in what she assumed was the drawing room, a large room with windows reaching almost to the ceiling. Paintings and tapestries hung on the walls. Near the wide fireplace, the grate almost hidden behind a huge vase of roses, sat Mrs Spencer on a sofa of dark green velvet. She wore a loose-fitting gown of deep rose with cream and yellow roses on it, a small lace cap with her hair parted in the centre and tied at the back of her neck with a narrow black velvet ribbon. As Grace entered the room she said, ‘Ah, there you are,’ in a tone that was surprisingly warm.

  At the woman’s bidding, Grace closed the door behind her, and Mrs Spencer beckoned to her, and gestured to a chair facing the sofa on which she sat. ‘Please – sit down.’

  Grace took the seat and waited. Mrs Spencer gazed at her for a moment in silence then went on:

  ‘I asked you to come and see me today as my husband told me that you were looking for a situation. And what I have to say might be of interest to you.’ She paused. ‘Also, I understand, you are being forced to move from your home.’

  Grace nodded. ‘Yes, ma’am, that’s correct. I knew we would have to leave when the lease was up, but I had hoped to delay it for a little while. Hopefully until I managed to find a home, and a position as a daily, visiting governess.’

  ‘And how have your searches gone? Have you found anything?’

  ‘I’ve found somewhere to live for us for the time being.’

  Mrs Spencer was looking at her expectantly and with curiosity, so Grace added, ‘At a lodging house in Corster. With a Mrs Packerman. We move there in a week.’

  ‘And does it look promising? Obviously it does, or you wouldn’t be planning to go there.’

  ‘Well,’ Grace gave a little shrug, ‘the landlady seems pleasant enough. It’s only one room, but I’m afraid we can’t afford to be too particular. Besides, it doesn’t have to be for ever, and we’ll move to somewhere better when things start to improve.’

  ‘What about work? Have you not yet found anything suitable?’

  ‘Not yet – though it’s not for want of trying. I’m quit
e sure, however, that I’ll find something soon. I’ve made other applications I’m waiting to hear about.’

  ‘You don’t have long, do you?’

  ‘No, but once Billy and I are settled in our new lodgings I shall be able to devote more time to finding something.’

  ‘Have you any other prospects?’

  ‘Other prospects? No – nothing.’

  ‘What I mean is – I’m referring to a certain young man. You spoke of him when you were here visiting before. Your acquaintance. Is he in a position to be of assistance to you?’

  ‘No,’ Grace said shortly. ‘We don’t meet. We shan’t be meeting again.’

  Mrs Spencer gazed at her at this, as if waiting for elaboration, but Grace volunteered nothing further on the matter.

  ‘And how,’ Mrs Spencer said, ‘is your young brother coping through all the upheaval?’

  ‘He’s taking it very well. He’s not happy about it, but he’s taking it well. He doesn’t complain.’

  ‘And with a sister like you to stand up for him, he’ll never be alone.’ A pause, then Mrs Spencer continued: ‘You know, I was a teacher once. So we have some things in common. For a few years I taught at a school on the outskirts of Swindon.’ She turned and glanced about her, her gaze moving out of the window. Taking in the sight, she said, ‘It’s a pleasant view, isn’t it? I have to say that much.’

  ‘It’s beautiful.’

  ‘It is. And I do appreciate it.’ She gave a little sigh. ‘I’m not so accustomed to living in the country. I was accustomed to living in a town. I only came here as my husband was set on it. And I was a stranger to the place. My uncle left me the property as his only relative, but I only ever saw it once in my life before it was bequeathed to me.’ The glance she cast around the room seemed to take in the whole house. ‘But it is an impressive house, there’s no denying. And if you think it’s large, think how it must have appeared to me as a girl. The place looked absolutely enormous. I thought the stairs and the rooms would go on for ever.’