Jewel In the North
Page 43
A fresh wave of anger swept over him. He had been engulfed by it ever since his father’s snooty solicitor had read the will to him three days earlier. “Laura is what this is all about.” He tugged the envelope from his jacket pocket and spread his father’s will on the table before him. “Father has left the house and mother’s jewellery to Laura.”
“What?” Edith’s sharp look faded and she slumped onto a chair. “What about the shop?”
“That’s ours, of course, along with all its debts.” Charles gripped his head in his hands. “I can’t believe Father would do this to me. We still haven’t recovered our losses from the drought and then the storm. Grandmother has offered to have Laura live with her and the executor wants to know what’s to be done about the house.” He looked imploringly at Edith. “I don’t know what to do.”
Edith began to pace. “We must think on it.”
“We don’t have long. Grandmother wants an answer and so does the executor.”
“We have to stay here.”
“How, Edith?” he growled. “We’ve sold the cottage next door for a pittance. We have two children. Are you planning on pitching a tent?”
Edith drew herself up. Her eyes blazed. “You are distraught, Charles, so I will overlook your sarcastic manner. Of course I’m not suggesting we live in a tent or any other such ridiculous place. By here I mean this house which provides a perfectly fine roof over our heads.”
“I’ve just told you, Edith, it is not ours.”
“I am assuming your father at least made you Laura’s legal guardian, and you must act on her behalf.”
“Yes, but he’s tied it up tightly so that I cannot take the house from her.”
“You don’t need to. Not for some years anyway.” Edith rose, came to stand beside him, and rested one hand on his shoulder. “Did you imagine she would live here on her own?”
Charles’s jaw fell open.
Edith leaned closer, her words soft in his ear. “She’s a child, Charles. She’s only eleven. As her guardian you are entitled to live in the house to look after her.”
“Of course. The executor only expects an annual report on the state of the house if we decide to stay.” He threw his arms around Edith and pulled her onto his lap. “You are so clever, my love.”
“She’s too young to understand.” Edith kissed his cheek. “If we don’t tell her she won’t even know the house is hers.”
Charles tensed as he remembered his grandmother’s letter. “What about Grandmother’s offer? I assume if we won’t go to Adelaide, she plans to groom Laura to take over her business.”
“We can’t let Laura leave, Charles. If Harriet gets her in her clutches she could turn Laura against us and even encourage her to sell the house.”
“Grandmother did not attend the reading of Father’s will, and asked nothing about it. She’s left everything for me to deal with — but in the case of her offer what are we to do? She will expect an answer.”
Edith’s face took on the sharp look she got when she was planning something. “Don’t give Laura the letter.”
“I must.”
“No, Charles. You can simply tell Laura a modified version of the contents.”
He frowned. “I don’t follow.”
Edith tutted. “We will tell her together. I will take the lead. And you must burn that letter. Your grandmother doesn’t correspond often now, what with her eyesight, and when she does send a letter it’s addressed to you. We simply vet any correspondence she sends and if we word Laura’s reply carefully I think we can keep her satisfied that Laura wishes to remain in Hawker.”
“You may be right.”
“Of course I’m right.”
“Very well.” Charles slid one hand around to cup her breast. He had been away nearly two weeks and he’d missed his wife. “You are such a good woman, Edith.”
She smiled. “And now I have my own news to impart. We are to have another child.”
“Edith, my love, that is splendid news.” Charles was proud of his two healthy children. Leonard was four and little Victoria two already. Another baby would certainly strengthen the Wiltshire line. “Perhaps another boy this time?”
“We shall see.”
He trailed kisses down her neck. “Since Victoria is sleeping and Laura has Leonard outside, I think we should retire to our bed for a rest.”
“Just a short one. I must prepare dinner.”
He set Edith on her feet. She took him by the hand and gave him one of those provocative smiles that always sent his blood racing. Instead of leading him to the back of the house, she took him towards the hall.
“While you were away I took the liberty of moving our things into the front bedroom.” She gave a throaty chuckle. “No more living in the servants’ quarters for us.”
“Come and sit at the kitchen table, Laura.” Edith’s tone was almost kindly.
Laura swallowed her sigh. She had finished tidying the kitchen. The little ones were in bed and usually Edith and Charles preferred the evenings to themselves. She didn’t mind being alone, especially since Edith had told her about her dear papa’s death. Laura was so sad, but she tried not to show it during the day. Edith had said they all missed Father, and little Leonard would be distraught — she was not to mention it. So Laura swallowed her sorrow and it was only when she slipped into bed and turned off the lamp that she allowed her grief to engulf her.
“What is it?” she asked. Edith had already taken a seat beside some paper, pen and ink. Charles paced up and back behind her.
“Your grandmother asked me to tell you she’d like you to come and live with her.” Charles made it sound as if that was a terrible thing, but Laura loved her grandmother Harriet.
Edith smiled at her and patted the seat beside her. “Sit down, dear.”
Laura’s stomach squirmed. She did as she was asked but Edith was acting just as she had when she’d imparted the news of Papa’s death.
“Why don’t you sit as well, Charles? We feel uncomfortable with you strutting beside us.” Edith gave Laura a conspiratorial smile. “The thing is, Laura, we are your legal guardians, and we are also your closest family. Of course we want you to do whatever you think best, but we would miss you terribly if you went to live in Adelaide.”
Laura chewed her lip. “What do you think, Charles?” She looked to her big brother, as she’d always done.
He took one of her hands in his big hands, his face serious. “I am a little concerned that Grandmother would rely very heavily on you. She has Miss Wicksteed, but you are her flesh and blood. She might become rather demanding as she gets older and you are too young to be burdened with the care of an old woman.” He sighed. “Of course you must go if that’s what you want, but we’ve just lost our dear father. I would be so sad if you were to go too.”
“As would I,” Edith added. “And Leonard and Victoria would be heartbroken.”
Laura looked from one to the other. She didn’t think herself capable of any more sadness. It would be a big change to move to her grandmother’s, and she did love her niece and nephew very much. Spending time with them brought her such joy. Edith could be demanding, and Charles was often moody, but they were her family.
She smiled at him now. “I would rather stay here.”
“Oh that’s wonderful.” Edith hugged her. It was such an unusual event it disconcerted Laura.
“Why don’t you write to Grandmother now?” Charles slid the blank piece of writing paper in front of her.
“I can help you with the wording if you like.” Edith let her go.
“Thank you.” Laura smiled from one to the other. They were almost treating her like a grown up. It would be better to stay here within the arms of her family. She dipped the pen in the ink and began to write: Dear Grandmother …
Fifty-two
April 1910
The sun was shining on a perfect autumn day outside and both Charles and Malachi Hemming were busy serving inside. Charles couldn’t be sure wh
y he’d received a sudden influx of customers in the late afternoon but he was more than happy to take their money. Perhaps it was the cooler April weather after the heat of March, which had seemed more like summer, or perhaps some were keen to inspect the work being done to restore the older part of the shop. Whatever the reason they were getting first look at the new stock — stock he’d had to outlay money up front for. His credit was still not good with his suppliers. At least these people would help spread the word that Wiltshire’s Emporium was returning to its glory days.
He smiled pleasantly at Mrs Edwards from the drapery along the street. She had purchased a new wooden tea caddy that had just arrived. He wondered if he would see her back again once the older part of the shop reopened the following week. Wiltshire’s Emporium would provide much more than the Edwards’ small drapery. In the refurbished shop, where once he had sold groceries — and still would if Edith had had her way — he was creating a space purely for ladies’ fashion.
He had employed a pretty local girl to take care of the counter. Ladies liked to see how they imagined they would look in a hat or a jacket, rather than the reality. He’d also employed a part-time dressmaker, who would work from what had been his father’s office. With all the ready-made fashion he was stocking, ladies needed clothing altered to obtain the perfect fit, and he would have someone on hand to do so. Laura would have been a much cheaper alternative, and at fourteen she showed great dexterity as a seamstress after several visits to her grandmother’s over the years, but she was also very good with the children and with three young ones and little household help Edith needed her at home.
As it drew closer to closing time the customers dispersed. Charles left Mr Hemming tending to the butcher’s wife, lifted the temporary curtain that had been hung between the two shops and let himself into the older section. They had to wait for the carpenter to finish the new front wall and then the glazier to install the windows before they could unpack the new stock and set out their displays.
Charles inspected the work, which had been encased with hessian bags on the outside so no-one would see the new showcase windows until the opening. It had been difficult to get a carpenter and then he’d had to pay the man up front. He still wondered whether they wouldn’t have been better to cut their losses and start afresh in Adelaide. It was taking longer than he had hoped to rebuild his reputation in the Hawker community.
The big drawcard would be the new buggy he would park at the front of the shop. It had four wheels, a padded leather seat and a shade that could be raised or lowered depending on the weather, and it would be available for hire. Charles had never gone back into wagon transport, and he no longer needed a cart for deliveries, so he had sold it and upgraded to the buggy. The old horse had also been sold and a fine new mare purchased: a horse with a quiet steady temperament, according to her previous owner. He hadn’t told Edith about that yet. She knew he had sold the horse and cart but not that he’d purchased the buggy and a new horse. They were being delivered to the stables at the house the next morning. He hoped she’d had a good day.
Charles collected his hat, said good evening to Mr Hemming and made his way home. On his walk up the side of the house he was met by the less-than-dulcet tones of his wife singing a hymn, obviously to her own accompaniment, judging by the odd misplayed note of the piano.
The noise from the backyard almost drowned that of the piano. The baby was screaming in Laura’s arms, Victoria was standing by the back door crying and Leonard was yelling from his position in the fork of the lemon tree.
“What is going on here?”
They all stopped their noise except for two-year-old Grace, who continued to air her lungs. He took her from Laura and jiggled her on his hip.
“Father,” Leonard and Victoria called at once.
“Laura won’t let us in the house.” Leonard’s voice had an indignant tone.
Charles noticed several lemons scattered around the yard and a rip down the back of his son’s shirt.
He looked at his younger sister. “Laura?”
She simply smiled and picked up Victoria, who was still snivelling. “It’s all right, Vicky. Your papa is home now.”
The little girl put her head on Laura’s shoulder and clutched the locket his sister never removed.
“What’s wrong with them?” Charles couldn’t seem to soothe his youngest daughter, and Victoria’s face was blotchy from crying too. “Why won’t you let them inside?”
“They’re fine really.” Laura wiped Victoria’s face with the edge of her apron. “Edith asked me to bring them outside while she practised her hymns for church on Sunday.”
“We’ve been out here for ages,” Leonard said.
“Leo’s getting hungry,” Laura said.
“So am I.” Victoria made a loud wailing noise.
“Shh, Vicky,” Laura soothed. “Your papa will let us inside, and if you’re very quiet and don’t disturb your mama I will make you all some dinner.”
“Why haven’t you done it earlier if food is all they want?”
Laura gave Charles a small smile. “The door is locked,” she murmured.
Charles sucked in a breath and withdrew his key from his pocket. “All right, everyone inside.”
There was an uproar of cheers.
“Stop.” He rounded on them. “You must do as your Aunt Laura says and sit quietly while she prepares you food.”
They followed him inside. He slid Grace into her high chair and she immediately began to cry again.
“Here you are, Gracie.” Laura gave her a piece of buttered crust.
“Can I have some?” Victoria whined.
“Me too,” Leonard added.
“Vicky, Leo, where are your manners?”
Laura chuckled as they chorused, “Please.”
Charles let himself into the hall and shut the door again behind him. He didn’t blame his wife at all for needing some time to herself. Their three children were very busy.
He sighed as the sounds of the piano reverberated out into the hall. A short time of peace and quiet in his own home was all he wanted. He would never say as much to Edith, but his sister was a much better pianist, with an angelic voice. As he crept past the sitting-room door the noise stopped.
“Is that you, Charles?”
He sighed and stepped in to see her.
“Good heavens, is it that time already? I’ve hardly had a moment to practise.” She closed the piano and slid her music under the lid of the stool. “I’d better see to the children. Laura lets them run wild.”
Charles crossed to his drinks table. “Laura is feeding them as we speak.” He lifted the decanter of sherry. “Why don’t you join me for a drink before you go? We don’t often get the chance to enjoy a quiet tipple together.”
Edith smiled. “What a lovely idea.”
“If we have two, Laura may even have put the children to bed and we can eat our meal in peace as well.”
Edith took the glass he offered and sat. Charles waited until her second glass was nearly empty before he broached the subject of the new horse and buggy. He had no trouble convincing her it was a good idea and she didn’t ask where the money had come from.
When finally she left to check on the children he poured himself a third and settled back into his chair. Charles smiled to himself as he swirled the amber liquid in the dainty crystal glass. He had worked out a while ago that a few glasses of sherry smoothed out some of Edith’s pointier edges.
“Will you come with me tomorrow afternoon to the reopening of the Wiltshires’ shop?”
Georgina looked up from her needlepoint, surprised by her mother’s proposal. “I really can’t be bothered, Mother. I’ve long since given away any thought about what Charles Wiltshire does.”
“I care little either, but it’s always interesting to see what scheme he’s going to come up with next. I don’t know where he gets the money.” Johanna shook her head. “He must have bled his poor grandmother dry by now.”
“I am enjoying this needlework.” Georgina decided to change the subject. “I haven’t done any for years.”
“I’ve got a simple design ready for Eleanor to try in the morning while you’re out.”
“She’ll love that.”
“I’m sure she’d love the shop opening as well. There’s to be a singer and sweets for the children and a grand unveiling of the new windows at two o’clock.”
Georgina said nothing but continued with her stitching.
“Charles Wiltshire spares no expense,” Johanna continued.
“A trait that has got him into trouble before.”
“There are several tradespeople who won’t do business with him, and Mrs Hill has encouraged friends to stay away.”
Georgina looked at her mother and raised her eyebrows.
“I keep my ears open.” Johanna adjusted her needlework on her lap but didn’t resume sewing. “He really should take more care. He has a wife, a sister and three children dependent upon him.”
“Now that is one small thing I do envy him.” Georgina cast her gaze away towards the fire. Since her trip to the doctor in Adelaide she had lost another baby, and each time it happened it was as if a little piece of her were lost too.
“Rubbish, Georgina. Have you seen those children? They’re as plain as plain can be, and quite unruly at times. Poor Laura is simply an unpaid nanny but she’s so good with them.”
“She still takes tea with you?”
“On occasion.” Johanna leaned closer. “You have been blessed with Eleanor. She’s as beautiful as you, and such a mild-tempered child.”
Georgina smiled. “You don’t think you may be a little biased there, Mother?”
“Perhaps.” She settled back in her chair, her needlework forgotten. “You are happy living at Prosser’s Run, aren’t you?”