The Fairbairn Fortunes

by Una-Mary Parker

  ‘Oh, darling, I’m so proud of you. Why don’t you telephone Dada and tell him the good news? He’ll be so proud of you too.’

  While Caroline regaled her father with details of her achievement, Laura sat gazing into space, trying to take it all in. Caroline’s dedication to ballet was to be admired and Madame Espinosa had always recognized Caroline’s talent. This could be her big chance to show everyone just how brilliant a dancer she was.

  ‘Dada says he’ll come to my opening night,’ Caroline said jubilantly. ‘He and Aunt Rowena are going to book tickets tomorrow. You’d better get some too. It’s going to be a big pantomime and we might even go on tour,’ she added importantly.

  Laura smiled at the ‘we’. It was obvious that Caroline was going to thrive on being a part of a group with one clear ambition: to perform on stage. She was going to love the camaraderie, the closeness that Laura had found with all her sisters. Caroline had missed out on that by being an only child. This was her first step into the big wide world and Laura couldn’t suppress a pang of sorrow because she knew she’d be left behind. That was the order of things and that was why her mother had – somewhat selfishly – kept her youngest daughter, Catriona, close to her side, unmarried, her constant companion.

  Laura beamed as Caroline hung up her tutu, hiding her moment of sadness as she asked, ‘What sort of costume will you wear as a butterfly?’

  Caroline shrugged. ‘I don’t know. The wardrobe mistress said she’d arrange all that.’

  ‘Won’t the opening night be exciting? I’ll get Aunt Di and Uncle Robert to come and I think Granny and Aunt Catriona would love to see your debut, too.’

  Caroline rolled her dark eyes. ‘Oh, for heaven’s sake! It will look dreadful if the stalls are filled with the family up from the country to see me dance! I’m a professional ballerina now. I’m more interested in what the theatre critics think of my performance.’ She picked up her handbag. ‘I’ve got to go. I’m meeting a friend for supper.’ A moment later she was gone and Laura felt the first link in the chain between them break. Her little girl was almost a grown woman now.

  Seven

  Edinburgh, November 1919

  ‘Who, pray, is Miss Cooper?’ Laura asked as she sat down by the telephone in her workroom.

  ‘Andrew’s secretary.’ Beattie’s voice sounded flat, as though she’d come to terms with her marital problems. ‘She’s the woman he’s been having an affair with for the past year.’

  ‘How do you know it’s her?’

  ‘He finally confessed and he’s told me everything. He’s madly in love with her.’

  ‘Oh my God! Are you all right, darling? You sound terribly calm. If he’s confessed she was his mistress does that mean you’ve patched things up? Oh, I do hope so, Beattie. The close proximity of working together for long hours was probably the cause of his emotional aberration. Has she gone now?’

  ‘If you mean has she given up her job and moved on the answer is no. In due course she’ll be the next Mrs Drinkwater. Why should she move on?’ Beattie’s voice was expressionless.

  ‘What do you mean?’ Laura felt stunned. The implications of what Beattie was saying were too dreadful. ‘You surely can’t be getting a divorce? No one in the family has ever been divorced. What about the children, Beattie? Why are you letting him get away with all this? Think of the stigma surrounding divorce! Think how it will affect and follow the children!’ Laura’s face and neck were flushed and her voice was raised. She desperately wanted Beattie to avoid such drastic action. ‘Why don’t you just live separately like Walter and I? There is no scandal attached to a separation and you can remain civil to each other and avoid notoriety. There’s no need for lawyers to get involved, and it’s much nicer for the children.’

  ‘I know, Laura. You don’t think I know all this? It’s nothing to do with me. It’s Andrew. He’s insisting on a divorce because he wants to marry Miss Cooper as quickly as possible because … Well, I might as well tell you – everyone will know soon enough. She’s expecting a baby.’

  ‘What?’ Laura hands were shaking and she’d risen to her feet with anger. ‘You can’t let him get away with this. He’s got to be brought to his senses.’ Beattie had always been the sweet and shy one in the family, and this wretched man was taking advantage of her good nature. Andrew’s actions were utterly unforgivable. ‘Listen, Beattie, have you talked to Lizzie and Di? Humphrey and Robert should talk to Andrew and tell him he simply can’t behave like this.’

  Beattie sounded tired and weary. ‘I honestly don’t think it would do any good. The way things stand I don’t have much say in the matter. If I don’t agree to a divorce he won’t give me a penny. He’s already said as much. The children and I will be paupers. As it stands I can keep this house and he’ll give me enough to live on as I do now and he will pay for everything.’

  ‘Oh my God, you must get a good lawyer. There’s no way you can fight this … this madness on your own. The man’s a bully and you’re letting him get away with it. The law won’t allow him to leave you penniless if you don’t comply with his demands. What sort of a hold has he got over you?’

  ‘Would you want to stay with a man who calls you dull and boring? Who tells me my whole family is snobbish and looks down on him? He’s deeply disappointed I didn’t have even one son who could take over his business one day. I’ve said we could try for another baby but he replied I’d probably have “another bloody girl”. I hate him, Laura. I want a quiet divorce so that I can live my life in comfort with my children.’

  ‘Oh, Beattie, I’m so sorry,’ Laura said. ‘You deserve someone who will really look after you. Let me know if there is anything I can do.’

  ‘Thank you, Laura. Gosh, who would have thought it? Who would have thought that I would be the first member of the family to be divorced?’ The line went dead as she hung up.

  Cranley Court, November 1919

  Lady Rothbury and Catriona were staying with Diana when the news broke. Lizzie and Humphrey had secured a good lawyer for Beattie, who was still protesting that Andrew’s proposed financial offer was more than acceptable.

  ‘Has the girl gone out of her mind?’ Her mother was filled with a mixture of fury and pity. ‘We mustn’t allow Beattie to get a divorce. We’ve never had the disgrace of a divorce in the family, and we never will. Not on my watch.’

  ‘Unfortunately, these days it seems to be more and more common,’ Robert pointed out sadly.

  ‘Maybe it has for common people but not families like ours,’ the countess retorted sharply. ‘An aristocratic man might have a mistress, but it will be a discreet affair and the wife will accept it to avoid a scandal. Look at Queen Alexandra. Bertie is in every woman’s bed except his wife’s now they have a family. One of her ladies-in-waiting told me that the Queen won’t go to bed herself until the King returns home to the palace.’

  ‘The poor Queen,’ Diana said sadly. ‘She’s so beautiful, too. Do you really want Beattie to have all that heartbreak and humiliation, Mama?’

  ‘No, but they could separate like Laura and Walter. Then lawyers wouldn’t have to be involved and the whole matter could be handled quietly and tastefully. If there’s a divorce there will be no way of keeping it out of the papers. She can forget about being invited to Buckingham Palace, or being admitted to the Royal Enclosure at Ascot. You don’t seem to realize what a calamity it would be.’

  ‘I’m more concerned with Beattie’s happiness than her social standing,’ Diana exclaimed stubbornly. ‘Who cares about that sort of thing nowadays?’

  ‘Diana, think of how it will affect her children. Why should they pay the price of their parents’ folly? This situation needs to be handled with care and diplomacy.’

  There was silence in the room. Lady Rothbury had spoken and Diana and Catriona looked subdued, while Robert decided it was the right moment to leave the discussion.

  ‘I’ve got letters to write, dearest,’ he said, affectionately patting his wife on the shoulder.
‘I’ll see you all later.’

  ‘What does Laura think about all this?’ Catriona asked when he’d left the room.

  ‘Laura said she thinks Beattie should put up a fight,’ Diana replied. ‘The point is that this woman is expecting a baby. She may be the one who is pressing him to get a divorce and marry her because she’s after his money. He is enormously wealthy, you know.’

  Lady Rothbury leaned forward and spoke urgently. ‘Then why doesn’t someone suggest to Andrew that he buys this woman a house and give her some money and then leave her to get on with it? My God, if every man married his mistress because he’d got her pregnant the divorce rate would increase by half!’

  ‘Mama, that’s a brilliant idea. Poor Beattie. She must be going through hell. My advice to her would be to sit tight for the sake of the children. And I don’t think she should tell anyone outside the family,’ Diana murmured.

  ‘Absolutely right,’ her mother agreed. ‘If I were in Beattie’s shoes I’d start by giving a few really grand dinner parties so Andrew has something to look forward to in his own home. She should invite people who would be useful to him in business – people this girl couldn’t dream of knowing. Men are essentially cowards. They hate confrontation and they’re like naughty children. They know what they’re doing is wrong, but if the wife ignores the affair it loses its excitement. Beattie should ignore the fact he has a mistress. She should go out and buy herself some beautiful clothes. She should learn to play bridge. She should organize amusing things for them to do together. With a man like Andrew things have got to be made exciting. He was never the sort of man who would come home in the evening and sit by the fire reading the newspapers.’ Her own husband, the father of her eleven children, had confessed on his deathbed he’d kept a mistress who had given birth to a son. The family only became aware of the child’s existence when, as a grown man, he’d returned to claim his inheritance. The Earl of Rothbury refused to acknowledge him because he was a bastard, telling him that if he used the Rothbury coat of arms he would make sure that it would have the Baton Sinister across it to mark his illegitimacy. The man put a curse on the whole family and for the next few years they were followed by tragedy. Her husband and both her sons had died and one of her daughters, Eleanor, was killed in a mysterious accident.

  Lady Rothbury closed her eyes for a minute as the terrible memories came back as vividly as when they had happened. The curse of the Rowan tree had only ceased when the tree was uprooted and burnt one night by a stranger.

  Without heirs the noble title of the Earl of Rothbury was now extinct and Lochlee Castle was sold because three lots of death duties had ruined them financially.

  Meanwhile, Diana was sure that if Andrew had married someone fiery like Laura he wouldn’t have been tempted to have an affair in the first place. Before Walter had become bankrupt, and permanently ruined his health with drink, Laura had been a sparkling hostess, filling their house with interesting and lively people. Her Christmas parties had been full of surprises, like the year Father Christmas entered the house on a donkey with presents for everyone. Then, every November the fifth, she’d invite all their friends to a firework display in their big garden while her staff offered everyone a warming glass of spiced mulled wine.

  Poor Beattie didn’t have that joie de vivre. None of them did. Of the nine daughters Laura was the strongest, the wittiest and the most charismatic, in spite of all the hard times she’d been through.

  Lady Rothbury rose slowly to her feet. ‘Could you help me up the stairs, Catriona? And then if you could fetch me a glass of water and my pills I’ll have a little rest.’

  Catriona smiled, barely listening because her mother’s requests were predictable and the same every day.

  Edinburgh, December 1919

  Caroline had no idea it would be such hard work. Ballet classes were pleasurable, very precise and exacting but enormously gratifying when Madame Espinosa exclaimed ‘Bravo!’ when Caroline completed a series of pirouettes, her head whipping around with each turn at exactly the correct angle.

  Rehearsing for a stage show where the choreographer changed his mind every few minutes was another matter. This was the moment she’d always dreamed of, and it was a shock to be shouted at, criticized and sometimes sworn at. By the end of each day she was exhausted and ready to weep with frustration. She was the only ballerina in the show. All the other dancers were showgirls who performed together as a group, and she couldn’t help but feel left out when they had a welcome break and sat around chatting to each other. Instead of trying to join them she appeared aloof and snobbish so they made no attempt to be friendly.

  ‘I’m a ballerina, not a showgirl,’ she said to Laura one evening when she returned from rehearsals. ‘I’m a solo artist. I’ve been picked to give this show a bit of class.’

  Laura’s heart sank. She knew nothing about the theatre and had never even met an actor, but gut instinct told her that the way to get on and be liked in any place was to be friendly and charming.

  ‘Why don’t you take a tin of biscuits or a cake with you tomorrow? Share it with the other dancers and …’

  Caroline jumped to her feet and swore angrily. ‘Damn it! I’m not going to make them my friends. They’re all so common.’

  Laura spoke firmly. ‘Please do not swear under my roof. It seems to me they don’t want to be friends with you because you’re a snob. You do not refer to people as “common”. From where do you get this attitude? Not me or your father. I’m not surprised they don’t like you if you appear to look down on them. I read a quote in a newspaper from a famous actress, who said, “You’re only as good as your last performance.” Remember that, my girl, if you want to get on.’

  ‘Oh, I hate you …!’ Caroline burst out in a tearful rage. Then she marched to the bedroom and slammed the door.

  Laura sat deep in thought. It was true that this was only a pantomime and perhaps Madame Espinosa had made a mistake in sending her to the audition? Surely after all the years of training Caroline should be trying to get into a ballet company? In the meantime, Laura decided to keep her thoughts to herself, but a plan was forming in her mind. It would mean enormous sacrifices and changes in their lives, and she didn’t know how she was going to finance it, but something had to be done, or she feared that Caroline would never get anywhere.

  The Theatre Royal, Edinburgh 1919

  There was a palpable throb of excitement in the stalls and dress circle as the audience waited for the red velvet curtain to rise on the first night of Puss in Boots.

  Laura had invited her mother, Catriona, Diana and Georgie, as well as their husbands and children, to come and see Caroline’s first public performance.

  Walter and Rowena had also invited some of their friends, so it was a merry group that were seated in the two front rows of the dress circle.

  The theatre was packed and the excitement reached fever point when the musicians entered the orchestra pit. Some children started clapping when the violinists began to tune their instruments.

  Walter, who was sitting beside Laura, nudged her with his elbow. ‘I’m as nervous as hell. Suppose she forgets her steps?’ he muttered. ‘What about you? Aren’t you nervous too?’

  ‘I think I’m past being nervous. If we can get through tonight then we can get through anything,’ Laura said grimly. ‘I’ll be thankful when it’s over.’

  Walter chuckled and patted her hand. ‘That’s my Laura! Able to cope with anything. You’ve done a wonderful job bringing her up, and it can’t have been easy.’

  ‘We’ve had our moments,’ she replied drily.

  At that moment the conductor raised his baton and the orchestra struck up a jolly overture.

  ‘Oh, God! Here we go,’ Walter groaned under his breath.

  It was a typical pantomime to begin with and Laura allowed herself to relax and even laugh at the corny jokes. She began to wonder when Caroline would make her debut. The show seemed to drag on for ages, and she wondered if they’d cut o
ut Caroline’s performance altogether. Anxiety made her blood run cold. Had Caroline had a fall? Broken her ankle perhaps? At that moment the stage went dark except for a beam of light on a piece of scenery that resembled a giant leaf. The music changed too, becoming gentle and poignant … Laura caught her breath. A butterfly was slowly unfolding its wings as if waking from a deep sleep. The wings flapped a few times and then the butterfly flew off the leaf and hovered as if in mid-air. It whirled and seemed to flutter, dipping and swooping gracefully. The stage was filled with bright lights and the butterfly seemed to revel in the sunshine. Then a clap of thunder startled the audience and the stage went dark. Flashes of lightning and more thunder saw the butterfly struggling to survive the summer storm. The music soared dramatically and the butterfly seemed to fall to the ground and lie there, helpless. A minute later the storm passed and the brave little butterfly fluttered and then flew back to the safety of the giant leaf as the sun shone once more.

  The stage blacked out and the applause was deafening. People in the stalls were standing and shouting ‘Bravo!’ and ‘Encore!’ and the clapping continued for several minutes.

  Laura looked at Walter and his cheeks were wet with tears. He reached for her hand. ‘To think that was our little girl,’ he murmured with awe.

  Laura was doing her best to control her own emotions so she nodded, aware that the rest of the family were looking at her. She knew now that Caroline deserved to be in a proper ballet company. No matter what it meant, as soon as this pantomime closed she would announce her plans, though God only knew how she was going to finance them.

  Dalkeith House, a week later

  ‘What are you doing, Walter?’ Rowena asked sharply. ‘Those are my best scissors.’

  He beamed and held up a cutting from The Scotsman. ‘Caroline has got the most marvellous reviews! All the newspapers are raving about her.’ He shuffled through a pile of newspapers with boyish excitement. ‘I bought a scrapbook when I was out so that I could keep them all safe.’