by Linda Sole
‘Frances came out of it with a lot of money. Not that it has made her happy, as far as I can see. She works so hard at that hotel of hers. I keep inviting her to stay but she never comes.’
‘I suppose she feels the way you do about this house.’
‘I’m not sure she does. I don’t think she is happy, Connor. Not truly happy.’
‘Are you happy?’ Connor asked.
‘Yes. Yes, I am. I have my problems, but I wouldn’t change my life if I could.’
‘What will you do about the dower house? I suppose you could sell . . .’
‘No, I shall have it done up and let it if I can,’ Emily said. ‘I shall see what the pictures bring – but there is a house in the village I might sell when it comes empty. The tenant is getting rather elderly; I dare say it will be empty in a couple of years or so. It is a good house and should fetch a few thousand pounds.’
‘Let me know how you get on. I’ll come again when I can, but that may not be until nearly Christmas. We shall have the harvest soon and then the potatoes. We only have one field down to barley so that won’t take long, but I usually take piecework once we’ve got Dan’s crops out of the ground. It’s the only way I can earn a bit more money.’
‘Well, have fun,’ Emily said. ‘Don’t work all the time.’
‘I shan’t do that, believe me. I belong to a club – it’s jive and jazz, and the lads wear those thick crêpe soles and long jackets with narrow trousers.’
‘Are they the ones they call Teddy Boys?’ Emily raised her eyebrows at him. ‘I’ve seen photos in the newspapers. I didn’t know it had caught on where you live. You don’t wear clothes like that?’ Her eyes went over him. He was wearing jeans, a shirt and leather slip-on shoes.
‘I would if I had the money.’ Connor grinned. ‘The fashion is catching on fast. I listen to jazz when I can, but I have to be careful because the kids are asleep by the time I get in. I’m saving for a portable radio I can take to work with me. I’ve seen something about them being produced abroad and they should soon be available here. We have a band at the club most weeks. We can’t afford the top guys, but it is fun. Sometimes I sing with the groups.’
‘I had forgotten that you can sing,’ Emily said. She leaned forward to kiss his cheek. ‘It doesn’t seem five minutes since you arrived. You’ve been working so hard that I have hardly seen you.’
‘It was interesting. Maybe I’ll go into the building business for myself one day.’
‘If you want to make a change, come here,’ Emily said. ‘I could use some help on the estate. I don’t mean land work; there are various projects I may think about if I can get a little money together.’
‘I’ll think about it when the time comes, but I can’t let Dan down,’ Connor said. ‘I had better get on the train now. The guard is closing the doors.’
‘Off you go.’ Emily stood back to wave him off. ‘Write to me, Connor.’
‘Of course – when I get time.’
Emily sighed. Connor would send a card for her birthday and at Christmas, but he was unlikely to write unless something was wrong at home.
She stood waving until the train steamed out of the station, then turned and walked back to her car. She would miss him even though he hadn’t been around all that much. Emily missed the other members of her family, but she doubted that either Dan or Frances would visit her, which meant that she had to find the time to visit them.
It really ought to be Frances. She hadn’t heard from her sister for almost a month, which was unusual; Frances normally wrote regularly. Emily would have to find the time to visit her, even if only for a few days.
‘I am sorry, Mrs Danby – but you made the second booking yourself,’ Tara Manners said. ‘I know I wrote Mrs and Mrs Saunders in the forward booking register.’
‘It was my fault,’ Frances agreed and nodded to her receptionist. ‘I am not blaming you. I didn’t consult the forward bookings when I took Mr and Mrs Jones’ booking. I’m afraid it means we shall have to give Mr Saunders an upgrade to the penthouse suite – at the same rate as his usual room, of course.’
‘You will lose fifty pounds, Mrs Danby.’
‘Yes, I know – but it is my fault. I was careless and it is all I can do. Will you explain to them when they arrive, please?’
‘You won’t tell them yourself? I imagine they will be delighted to get an upgrade for free.’
‘Yes, I dare say.’ Frances smiled oddly. ‘I have an appointment this afternoon. I don’t think I shall be back by the time they arrive.’
‘Yes, well, I can explain,’ Tara said. ‘Are you going somewhere nice?’
Frances glanced at herself in the wall mirror. She was dressed in a plain navy suit with a cream silk blouse and navy court shoes. Her soft hair was dressed back in a pleat. She thought she looked older than her years but preferred to dress severely. Looking attractive encouraged men to flirt and that was the last thing she needed or wanted. She had learned not to trust anyone – except perhaps Emily.
Frances sighed inwardly. She didn’t see her sister often enough. Emily was always asking her to visit, but Frances wasn’t sure why she didn’t take more time off. Her staff were perfectly capable of running the hotel, perhaps more so than she was herself these days. She had been feeling so tired recently and she wasn’t sure why. Yes, she worked long hours, but the work was not hard labour. She was still a young woman, but sometimes she felt years older – and she looked it. Especially when she’d had one of her bad nights.
She picked up her bag, a smart navy leather two-strap that matched her shoes. Both bag and shoes were expensive. Frances could afford the best, but she didn’t find much pleasure in shopping these days. She supposed that she was still bitter over what Sam Danby had done to her – and the way Marcus had let her down.
She had thought herself the luckiest woman in the world when she’d married. Her husband’s father, Sam, was one of the richest men in the district, and she and Marcus seemed to have a glittering future, but it had all gone wrong when her husband came home from the war. Marcus had changed. He drank a lot and quarrelled with his father. When he died in a car accident Frances had believed it was because he was drunk, but when she discovered what had been haunting Marcus she had begun to understand why he had simply given up: he had survived the war only to discover that most of his father’s money came from prostitution.
Sam was a bully and he’d tried to force Marcus to work for him. Marcus refused, but then his drinking had got so much worse. Frances had come to blame Sam for her husband’s death, and to hate him. She knew that she had made him turn against her by blackmailing him over his secret, but he had done such awful things to her.
Frances could never forgive and she couldn’t forget either. Sometimes there was such a terrible darkness inside her. She had wild rages that she tried desperately hard to hide from everyone around her. She had found that the best way to cope was simply to shut herself away until she was feeling better. Emily expected her to put the past behind her and get on with her life. Frances had tried, but she didn’t have her sister’s resilience. She brooded on the past too much.
Frances couldn’t help envying Emily her life. It was the reason she refused to visit, even though she missed Emily. If Emily came here, it was all right, but Vanbrough was such a wonderful place and she envied her sister’s feeling of peace, of belonging. Emily had been loved. Vane had loved her and so had Robert’s father. She might have suffered an unhappy marriage but she had got over it quickly, because she was in love with someone else.
Frances thought she had loved Marcus when she married him, but now she wasn’t sure – she wasn’t certain she knew what love was about. She knew about loneliness – that aching, empty feeling that had set in after her son died in hospital and everyone thought she had neglected him. She would never have done that . . . although she had been drinking too much because she was grieving for her husband.
Emily had believed in her. Dan had apologized after he
realized what was going on, but he had thought she was at fault in the beginning. Perhaps he still did. He hadn’t brought his family to visit for ages and she knew he had been to Emily’s once or twice.
She looked at her receptionist, realizing that she hadn’t replied. ‘Nowhere special,’ she said. ‘It is a business matter.’
Frances wondered why she’d lied as she left the hotel and got into the taxi, giving the driver instructions. She leaned back against the seat, trying to keep calm and not worry. There might not be any need to worry, because she didn’t know if there was anything really wrong with her yet. It was just that she hated hospitals. She had ever since little Charlie had died and the nurse had looked at her as if she were a murderer.
She had been desperate when Dan drove her to the hospital. She had never ceased to regret that she hadn’t taken her son to the doctor sooner, but she’d thought it was just a chill – just as she’d put off seeing a doctor when she started to feel unwell herself.
She couldn’t really be ill. She wasn’t even thirty-seven yet – wouldn’t be for ages. It was stupid to feel so nervous of these wretched tests . . .
Daniel finished loading the milk churns and watched as the lorry trundled off down the road that led back to Stretton. The trouble with living miles down a drove was that he had to start milking half an hour earlier in order to get the milk to the pick-up point on time. As he climbed back into the seat of his tractor, Daniel was wondering what it was all about, the struggle to survive and keep his head above water.
He hadn’t planned it this way! If he’d done things differently, he might have had his own garage now. He knew he could have made a reasonable living from that and then he could have handed the small-holding over to Connor, as he’d planned. A scowl settled on his face as he realized that his dreams were vanishing like early-morning mist. If he had to pay that scheming hussy for keeping her mouth shut . . . But he wouldn’t, damn her! He would tell Alice the truth . . . But as he saw the smoke rising from the chimneys of his home, Daniel realized he could never tell her the truth.
Alice worked so hard and got very little in return, except a handful of children and more work. It wasn’t the life he’d promised her or himself. He was caught in a trap and he couldn’t see a way out.
‘Damned if I do and damned if I don’t,’ he muttered to himself as he shut off the tractor and headed towards the kitchen. What was the worst that could happen? Alice wouldn’t leave him . . .
As he entered the kitchen the smell of vomit hit him. Alice was pacing up and down, looking worried to death, and Sally was obviously ill again. All thought of telling his wife about Maura fled as he saw the red patches in his youngest child’s cheeks.
‘I think she is really ill this time,’ Alice said. ‘I don’t know what to do, Dan. I have to get the others off to school and—’
‘What’s wrong?’ Connor asked, walking into the kitchen. ‘If you want to take Sally to the doctor, I’ll look out for the others. Danny will help, won’t you?’
‘Yeah,’ Danny replied, looking at his screaming sister. ‘Is she going to die?’
‘No, of course she isn’t,’ Alice said. She thrust the child at Daniel. ‘Hold her while I get ready – and then you can take me to the doctor’s.’
‘The surgery won’t be open for another hour . . .’
‘Take me to his house,’ Alice said. ‘She has been screaming ever since you left the house this morning. I can’t stand it, Dan. It’s different this time and I want the doctor to look at her. You know what happened to Frances’s son . . .’
‘I took Fran straight to the hospital. If you think it is that serious, perhaps . . .’
‘I trust Doctor Parks,’ Alice said. ‘I don’t like hospitals. They put poor Mr Giles outside and left him because they said it was healthy and he died of pneumonia three days later.’
‘He had consumption,’ Dan reminded her. ‘Fresh air is supposed to be good for people with tuberculosis.’
‘Not when it is freezing cold. I want to see Doctor Parks.’
‘All right, love. Go and get ready, then. I dare say he will give you something to help with the fever. She’s burning up, poor love.’
He kissed the top of Sally’s head. She was hot and sweaty and she smelled of pee and vomit. Alice was a good mother but she couldn’t cope with Sally’s constant crying and sickness. Maybe they should have taken her to the doctor weeks ago when all this started . . .
‘Sally has chicken pox,’ Doctor Parks said after examining her. ‘The rash is coming out on her body, Mrs Searles. You just need to keep her quiet and leave her to rest.’
‘She keeps crying all the time,’ Alice said, feeling tired. ‘I know Danny had this when he was two but after the first day he was fine and I had a struggle to keep him indoors. The other two haven’t had it yet.’
‘You will probably find they catch it this time,’ the doctor told her. ‘I can give you a soothing lotion to smooth on her body, and you can give her a little of this medicine. Only a teaspoon in water, mind – and be careful not to give more than one dose every six hours.’
‘Will it ease her?’ Alice asked anxiously. ‘She has always been one for crying right from birth. My other children were happier. I’m worried that she has something wrong with her.’
‘I assure you she is a perfectly healthy young lady.’ Doctor Parks smiled. ‘Some children do cry more than others, and it is very worrying for the mother. You look worn out, Mrs Searles. I’ll give you a tonic for yourself. It would do you good to get away for a bit of a break. Is there anyone who could look after the children for you?’
‘My sister-in-law would have the elder three, but I couldn’t leave Sally; she cries if I’m gone for more than a few minutes.’
‘Perhaps that is because she knows you will pick her up. Sometimes it may be a good thing to let her cry it out – but that is up to you, of course.’
‘Frances told me I should let babies cry, but I’ve always worried that there might be something wrong. I don’t want one of my children to die because I didn’t notice he or she was ill.’
‘I am sure you would never do that.’ Doctor Parks handed her a prescription. ‘Take this to the chemist, Mrs Searles, and come to see me again if you are still tired in a month’s time.’
‘Thank you, Doctor.’ Alice picked up Sally, who had stopped crying the minute the doctor had started to examine her and was now sucking her thumb, her eyes wide.
Daniel was waiting for her when she went out to the van. He jumped out and opened the door for her, looking anxious.
‘What did he say?’
‘Sally has chicken pox. He has given me some lotion to smooth on her skin and medicine – and he has given me a tonic. He says I need a break from the children . . .’ Alice was thoughtful as Daniel took the baby while she got in and then put the child into her arms. ‘I was thinking that perhaps we should try to get away, Dan. I had another letter from Frances yesterday, asking us to go down. If Mary and Connor could manage the others, I would like to take Sally – when she is over the chicken pox, of course.’
‘Chicken pox.’ Daniel frowned as he got into the driving seat. ‘Thank goodness it wasn’t anything worse, love. I’ll talk to Connor and you ask Mary, then I’ll give Frances a ring.’
‘Yes, you do that. It’s years since I saw the sea. I’m looking forward to it now, Dan.’
‘Good,’ he said, and smiled.
Daniel had made up his mind that he couldn’t tell Alice the truth. It would upset her too much, and if the doctor had given her a tonic, she was obviously under the weather. He would have to borrow the money, though he wouldn’t give Maura as much as she wanted. If he borrowed from Frances, she wouldn’t charge as much interest as the bank. He could pay that scheming bitch and perhaps finish off his loan at the bank – and then perhaps he could begin to save for the future.
Daniel would pay Frances back, of course, but perhaps she would let him repay over a long period. She was a rich wo
man and she wouldn’t worry about lending him a thousand or two. It would cost him to ask, because he had always sworn he wouldn’t, but he was at the end of his tether. If he didn’t pay Maura something, she would tell Alice that he was the father of her son. He would see what kind of a mood Frances was in and if he felt able he would tell her he needed money to start a business.
In the meantime he would let Maura stew. If he left her long enough, she might just give up and go off somewhere . . .
Three
Emily read the letter from Alice, her brow furrowing as she discovered that three of Alice’s children were down with the chicken pox – and then Dan had taken it too.
He was the worst patient of them all. He was covered in spots and Doctor Parks thought he might have smallpox, but it wasn’t and he is getting better at last. Connor had all the work to do, the milking and everything, but he got someone in to help and Dan is going to keep the lad on for a while. Now that he is feeling better we are taking Sally to stay with Frances for a week. Mary is having Danny, Jean and Rob to stay with her. Connor would have done his best to cope but it wouldn’t be fair on him . . .
Emily laid her letter aside as the telephone shrilled. She was thinking what a rough time poor Alice had been having and wishing that Dan would bring all his family to her as she answered. ‘Emily Vane speaking . . .’
‘Lady Vane – Emily?’ a man’s deep voice said. ‘I’m sorry it has been such a long time. I always meant to keep in touch, but you know how it is – we lead such busy lives.’
‘Alan?’ Emily was shocked as she heard the voice of Vane’s cousin, but surprise was followed swiftly by guilt. ‘How are you? It must be two years since you last telephoned . . .’
‘Nearer three, I should think,’ Alan said. ‘How are things with you? I expect you run the place seamlessly, carrying on the traditions in Vane’s name.’
‘I do my best,’ Emily laughed. ‘Like you, I’m busy, but I like that – don’t you?’