‘This was Clarissa Morton’s room. She was the first lady of Morton Hall,’ Emilia told her friend, but she wasn’t sure if she was listening.
‘Look at the paintings on this bed,’ Angela said, moving forward to admire the Pre-Raphaelite beauties on the panels. ‘And the stained glass and the tiles around the fireplace. Are they De Morgan?’
Emilia nodded proudly.
‘This is amazing.’
‘Wait until you see the clothes.’
Emilia walked across the handwoven carpet and opened the wardrobe, smiling as she heard Angela’s gasp of delight.
‘Are these all – you know – original?’ she asked as she came forward.
‘Of course they are. Everything in this house comes straight from the Victorians. You know, we don’t even have a television? I think Tobias has got a radio, but everything else is at least a hundred years old.’
Angela shoved her head into the wardrobe, her fingers hovering over the clothes encased in their wrappings. ‘These are beautiful, and there are so many of them.’
‘Everything was kept. I don’t think they threw anything away,’ Emilia explained. ‘Let’s get some of them out, shall we? You can’t really see them properly in there and you’re going to want to see the detail, I promise you. Give me a hand.’
‘Can I? Can I really?’
‘Of course you can. Only don’t let Tobias know. He’s a bit possessive of these. Well, he’s possessive of everything really. He only lets me wear the dresses he chooses each day.’
Angela’s head snapped around and she stared at her friend. ‘Wait a minute. You wear these dresses?’
Emilia nodded. ‘All the time. It was strange at first, but I soon got used to it.’
Angela reached a hand out and took hold of Emilia’s arm. ‘Am I getting this right? You wear them like they’re everyday clothes?’
‘Yes.’ Emilia grinned. ‘I know, that must sound weird.’
‘Erm, yeah! Just a bit.’
‘But it isn’t really. The clothes are here and they’re beautiful. Why shouldn’t I wear them?’
Angela’s frown had deepened, but then she laughed. ‘You’re crazy, you know that? Do you also go around speaking like a heroine from a Tennyson poem when nobody else is here?’
‘No, of course not. And don’t look at me like that. I’m not crazy.’
‘Well, you’re eccentric or something then.’
‘You’ll see what I mean in a moment.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘We’ll both try some dresses on together. There’s still a few here I haven’t worn yet.’
‘You’re kidding? I can try these on?’
Emilia smiled. ‘You won’t ever want to wear jeans again!’
For the next half hour, the two young women laid out dress after dress on the bed, gasping and giggling. It was as if they were children and had been given free rein with the largest dressing-up box in the world.
‘Look at this one!’ Angela cried as she held up an emerald gown in the finest of satins.
‘And this,’ Emilia said, stroking one made from amethyst velvet.
‘The beading on this one is exquisite.’
‘And the lace on this one.’
They cooed over the rainbow array of materials and then the real fun began as they shed their twentieth-century clothes and cautiously stepped into the dresses that transported them back to the nineteenth century.
‘Oh, my god – look at you!’ Angela screamed.
‘Look at you!’ Emilia echoed. ‘You look amazing!’
Angela turned around, discovering the large mirror on the other side of the room.
‘Wow!’ she said a moment later and then turned back to Emilia. ‘Lady Emilia, I presume?’
‘Why, yes, Countess Godfrey!’
They did a funny little curtsy at each other and then laughed.
‘Quick – I want to try that amazing red one on next,’ Angela said.
‘That’s one of my favourites although Tobias has told me I should never wear it.’
‘And you do everything your brother says?’
‘No, of course not,’ Emilia said, ‘it’s just there’s no point upsetting him if I don’t have to. He takes things to heart and it isn’t worth the stress.’
‘Well, I think you should wear it right now,’ Angela said, handing her the red dress.
Emilia could feel the temptation racing around her body like some kind of mad energy.
‘I don’t think I should,’ she said, shaking her head and trying not to look at the beautiful dress.
‘Don’t you want to?’ Angela asked.
‘Oh, I want to all right!’
‘Well, go on, then!’ Angela thrust the dress towards her and Emilia could do nothing but take hold of it.
‘This is just wrong.’
‘Why? It’s no different from the other dresses, surely?’
‘But Tobias said—’
‘What? What right does he have to tell you what you can and can’t do? Anyway, I don’t see him here so where’s the harm?’
Emilia looked up at her friend. ‘You’re worse than a devil sitting on my shoulder and whispering in my ear.’
‘Go on – I want to see that dress on you now! And I’m going to try on that emerald one.’
A few silent minutes passed as the two of them changed dresses and then the miraculous moment of transformation occurred and they stood side by side, staring at their reflections in the mirror.
‘No wonder you just stay home playing dress-up all day. I would too if I lived here!’
‘I told you you’d be hooked.’
‘This dress feels amazing. It’s like a great big beautiful comfort blanket.’
‘That’s probably because we’re not strapped in with corsets.’
‘So, you wear these with your normal knickers and bras?’ Angela asked.
‘Absolutely.’
‘I don’t suppose I could take some of these home with me.’
‘What, to walk around the Yorkshire Dales in?’ Emilia asked.
‘Yes, that would look a bit odd in Upper Wharfedale! Hopping over stiles and scaring the sheep in a Victorian gown.’
They both laughed and soon found they couldn’t stop. It was one of those wonderfully rare moments when laughter just takes over, bubbling up from inside you in an unstoppable flow. Emilia could feel actual tears coursing down her face and she knew that they were making too much noise – way too much noise – but she couldn’t help it. She hadn’t laughed so much in ages. She couldn’t remember the last time, in fact. Perhaps that’s why she couldn’t stop now.
‘What the hell is going on in here?’
Their laughter stopped and Emilia looked up to see a red-faced Tobias standing in the doorway.
‘Tobias!’ she said, swallowing hard and wiping the tears from her cheeks. ‘Were we making too much noise? I’m sorry.’
‘What are you doing in here?’ he asked. ‘You know you shouldn’t be in here unsupervised.’
Emilia could feel the weight of Angela’s gaze upon her.
‘I’m sorry. I thought it would be all right to show Angela.’
‘And that dress! I’ve told you I don’t want you wearing that one. It’s obscene – take it off!’
‘But it’s just a dress like the others.’
‘It’s the dress of a Jezebel.’
Angela spluttered. ‘A Jezebel? Who says stuff like that anymore?’
Emilia’s eyes widened as she saw the look of disapproval on her brother’s face. She wasn’t sure what had upset him the most: her own disobedience or Angela’s impertinence.
‘Tobias?’ she quickly intercepted. ‘This is my friend, Angela.’
Angela stepped forward and, before Tobias could say anything, had leaned forward and kissed his cheek. He looked so shocked by this that Emilia felt sure he was going to explode.
‘I’m so pleased to meet you!’ Angela blurted. ‘You’re very bossy, aren�
��t you?’
A look of pure shock landed square on Tobias’s face as if he’d never been confronted by such a woman in his life, which he probably hadn’t.
‘I beg your pardon?’ he said.
‘I said, you’re very bossy,’ Angela repeated. ‘Look, we were just being silly and trying on a few clothes. It’s what girls do.’
‘Maybe, but not with these sorts of clothes,’ he said, walking towards the bed where the heaps of gowns lay. ‘These are special. They’re valuable. One of a kind. They’re not toys to be played with.’ His right hand reached out to them, but didn’t quite touch them, his fingers hovering over them with a kind of painful possession.
‘We were being very careful with them,’ Emilia told him, ‘and we were going to put them back right away.’
‘No we weren’t,’ Angela said. ‘We were going to waltz around the house and garden in them, weren’t we, Emmy?’
Emilia’s mouth dropped open in horror as Tobias’s stare moved from Angela to her.
‘You were what?’
‘Angela’s just messing with you.’
Now it was Angela’s turn to stare at her and she did so with her hands on her hips.
‘We thought you’d like it,’ Angela continued. ‘We thought you might join us and wear something too. Not a dress, obviously.’ She gave bright laugh. ‘But surely there are some men’s clothes from the same period?’
Emilia watched her brother’s reaction. She’d never seen him looking so baffled.
‘Look – I’d really rather you didn’t—’
‘I think you’d look splendid as a Victorian gentleman. You have that kind of timeless face, don’t you think, Emmy?’
‘Well, I . . .’
‘Maybe we can find you something to wear in one of the other rooms. After all, it’s a bit odd to expect Emmy to dress up when you don’t join in too, don’t you think? I’d say there was something a bit suspicious about that.’
Emilia watched as Angela walked towards her brother and linked her arm through his.
‘Emilia said you’d give me a tour of the house,’ she went on. ‘I’d like that. Can I keep this dress on while you show me around? I’d very much like to.’
Tobias studied her face for a moment and then gave a little nod.
‘Excellent!’ Angela said and Emilia watched dumbstruck as, arm in arm, they left the room together.
Chapter 13
The cold, dark days of January finally came to an end and were replaced by the more hopeful month of February with its noticeably longer days and much-anticipated pops of colour from the crocuses. It was wonderful to be able to work in the garden until five o’clock, and the team made the most of it. Cape remembered the protests at the beginning of the project and how many of their team had said that they could only give the minimum five hours each week, but that had changed and all seven of them could be found in the garden on both Saturdays and Sundays, sometimes for the entire duration of the day, and very often during the week too.
Mac had taken delivery of a lorryload of well-rotted manure, which was now being wheelbarrowed into the walled garden and heaped into the raised beds that had been newly made by Patrick and his sons.
‘We’ll take care of that,’ Patrick had declared as soon as he’d seen it, surprising everyone as he flashed a smile at the group.
‘He’s changed his tune,’ Kathleen said.
‘He’s officially in charge of the veg beds,’ Cape said. ‘Him, Matthew and Elliot.’
Dorothy looked impressed. ‘Good for them. And what are the rest of us in charge of?’
‘Any special requests?’ Cape asked.
‘I wouldn’t mind unearthing some of those statues that you mentioned were hiding around the garden,’ Dorothy said.
‘Be my guest,’ Cape said with a happy gesture of his hand. ‘Kath?’
‘Oh, I’m easy. Point me anywhere you need help – as long as it isn’t green or fragile, that is.’
‘I don’t mind either,’ Erin said.
‘Neither do I,’ Anne Marie agreed. ‘I’ll go where I’m needed.’
‘Actually, I’ll help Dorothy with the statues,’ Erin added and Dorothy smiled. The two of them seemed to have formed a special relationship, Anne Marie thought. It was as if Dorothy had adopted Erin as a surrogate daughter – perhaps in place of her two daughters whom she’d mentioned led their own very separate lives.
And so they all found their personal rhythm. Cape and Mac were gentle directors, always making sure that everybody was happy with the chores assigned to them. Anne Marie was particularly impressed by Cape’s patience, especially when he had his daughter with him. What an angel she was, Anne Marie thought. She’d been instantly charmed by the young girl, and Poppy appeared to like her too, which made Anne Marie both happy and wistful. Growing up, Anne Marie had always imagined that she would have children of her own one day and, when she’d met Grant, the subject had never come up. She knew he had two daughters and had assumed he’d be happy to have more children. It wasn’t until a year into their marriage that he broke the news.
‘I have my family,’ he’d said. ‘I can’t be disturbed at this stage in my career by babies.’
Anne Marie had been dumbfounded. He hadn’t considered her needs and desires at all. There’d been one time, shortly after he told her this, that she’d thought she’d been pregnant. For two whole weeks, her emotions had been out of control, swinging from secret elation at the idea of being a mother to terrible nervousness at the thought of telling Grant the news. How would he take it? Would he think she’d tricked him? The thought had occurred to her, but she would never have done that.
She remembered the precise moment she’d found out it was a false alarm. It’d been a good job that she’d been working at home on her own that day for she hadn’t been able to control her disappointment. By the time Irma and Rebecca arrived home from school, all her tears had been dried, her face washed and calmed and her disappointment locked deep inside her where nobody had ever thought to look for it.
Now, watching Poppy with Cape, she couldn’t help but long for that most delicious of relationships. She’d never have it with Irma or Rebecca. They would forever remain hostile towards her, she knew that.
‘Hey there,’ Cape said, sneaking up on her as she stuck her spade deep into the earth. ‘You doing okay?’
‘Good.’
‘Yeah?’ He didn’t sound convinced and she leaned forward on her spade and looked at him. ‘Poppy said you looked sad so I thought I’d come over and see if you’re okay.’
‘She said that?’
‘She did.’ Cape glanced over at his daughter who was wrestling with a very large weed. ‘She’s very good at picking up on moods.’
‘It’s funny she should pick up on this one because I was thinking about her.’
‘Were you?’
She nodded. ‘You’re so lucky to have her.’
‘Oh, I know.’ Cape smiled. ‘I don’t know what I’d do without her. You know, I never imagined myself as a father. Some people always know they’re going to have a family, don’t they? They have this little scene in their head of what the future will be like, but I never had that. I mean, other than becoming a gardener. But, now that I have Poppy, I can’t imagine any other way of life.’
She looked at the tender expression on his face and something inside her seemed to melt. Never, not once, had she seen Grant look at his daughters that way. Had he ever, she wondered? Perhaps when they were little, they’d been closer. Perhaps things had changed for them all after Lucinda had died. But she’d never heard him praise them or seen him admire them.
‘You have two step-daughters, right?’ Cape said.
‘They’re not mine,’ Anne Marie blurted. ‘I mean, I’ll never be close to them. Not like you with Poppy.’
Cape frowned. ‘That’s a shame. They’re missing out on a pretty amazing step-mother.’
Anne Marie laughed at that. ‘I doubt they’d see it that w
ay.’
‘And you’ve tried to get close to them?’
Anne Marie swallowed. ‘I’ve tried.’ Her mind flipped back over the years, remembering one particular incident and wondering if she dared to share it.
‘I once took the girls out to a stately home. It wasn’t a grand one like Blenheim Palace. It was smaller, more intimate, and famous for its dolls’ houses, which I thought might be of interest to them. I was really looking forward to the day. I’d got up early to make packed lunches, careful of the girls’ likes and dislikes, and off we went. I remember they weren’t very chatty in the car. In fact, I don’t think they spoke at all. I didn’t worry at first, but it soon became uncomfortable and I realised that they’d made a pact to freeze me out with silence.’
‘That’s awful!’
‘I’d never experienced anything like it,’ Anne Marie confessed. ‘I tried to ignore it at first – pretend that it wasn’t happening. I’d ask them questions and then end up answering them myself. As the day went on, I felt sure Rebecca – the youngest – would crack. I could see her mind working overtime, but Irma would give her these warning looks.’
‘So they didn’t say a thing?’
‘Not a single word. We walked around the house and garden together and I swear I could feel myself almost breaking into a sweat like I was about to have a panic attack. It was the most horrible feeling. I didn’t know what to do. Should I confront them, shout at them, shake them by the shoulders until the words were forced out of them?’
‘What did you do?’
‘I took the coward’s way out and did nothing but be nice to them. I bought them ice cream and then took them round the gift shop where I bought them both a little book about dolls’ houses. I thought there might be trouble if I just bought one so I was careful to make sure they had one each.’
‘That’s very thoughtful of you, especially considering how they treated you.’
‘I wish I hadn’t now. When we got outside the shop, Irma opened her book up and spat inside it.’
‘You’re kidding!’
‘I’m afraid not,’ Anne Marie said. ‘Rebecca looked genuinely shocked at first, but then she followed her sister’s lead and spat on hers too. I asked them both what their father would say about their actions.’
The Heart of the Garden Page 18