A Woman of Substance

by Barbara Taylor Bradford

  ‘Put that on the desk for a minute, Brenda,’ Hilda instructed, ‘and bring one of the small tables over here by the fire to hold it.’ She put her own tray down on the butler’s table and, puffing and blowing from exertion, she paused to catch her breath, motioning to Brenda where to position the second table for convenience. The two women carefully arranged the trays in front of the fire and then Brenda slipped out of the room, leaving Hilda to make the finishing touches. She surveyed Cook’s handiwork critically and then a smile of gratification slowly spread itself across her plump rosy face. There were hot buttered scones, thin slices of bread and butter, homemade strawberry jam, clotted cream, wafer-like sandwiches of cucumber, tomatoes, and smoked salmon, sweet biscuits, and a fruit cake decorated on the top with almonds. It was a real old-fashioned Yorkshire tea. Hilda carefully folded the fine lawn serviettes, put one on each plate with a small pearl-handled silver knife and fork, threw logs on to the fire, plumped the cushions, and then looked around. When she had reassured herself that everything was to her satisfaction she knocked on Emma’s bedroom door.

  ‘Are you awake, madame?’

  ‘Yes, Hilda. Come in,’ Emma called.

  Hilda opened the door and poked her head around it, smiling. ‘Tea is ready!’ she announced. ‘And Miss Paula is back from her ride. She said to tell you she’ll be here in a few minutes. She’s changing out of her riding clothes.’

  ‘Thank you, Hilda. I’ll be there shortly.’

  ‘Ring if you need anything, madame,’ Hilda added, and then went down to the kitchen to have her own tea and give a word of praise to Cook.

  When Paula came in a little while later she stood in the doorway and caught her breath, unexpectedly moved by the beauty of the parlour. It was hushed and still, as if time had passed it by. The only sound was the crackling of the fire that burned in the huge hearth. Sunshine filtered in through the tall leaded windows, dusky and golden, bathing the furniture and paintings in a mellow light, and the air, heavy with the perfume of hyacinths and spring flowers, flowed around her, enveloping her in its heady fragrance. There was something poignant about this great old room. Memories stirred within her, faintly elusive and nostalgic. She glided silently across the floor, almost afraid to move within that stillness, fearful that the rustling of her dress might disrupt and destroy that gentle peace. She sank on to one of the sofas and her eyes roamed around the room. Here it was easy to forget that there was a world outside, a world full of pain and ugliness and despair. She drifted gently on the edge of memory, recalling her childhood in this ancient place, the happy times she had spent here with her mother and father, her cousins and her young friends. And Grandy. Always Grandy. Her grandmother was never far away, always there to wipe away her tears, laugh at her childish pranks, admire her small achievements and to scold and cosset and love her. Her grandmother had made her what she was. It was Grandy who had told her she was clever and beautiful and special. Unique, she had said. It was Grandy who had given her inner security and confidence and strength, who had taught her to face the truth without fear and with a courageous heart…

  She did not hear Emma come in, so soft was her step. Emma, too, paused to admire, but her attention was focused solely on Paula. How lovely she looks, Emma thought, like a figure from some old painting, remote and wistful, the maiden with the unicorn.

  ‘There you are, darling!’ Emma exclaimed. ‘You’re looking beautiful and refreshed after your ride.’

  Paula glanced up swiftly, momentarily startled. ‘Oh, Grandy, you made me jump. I was miles away.’

  As Emma seated herself opposite Paula her eyes lighted on the tea tray. ‘My goodness, look at all this food. Hilda is too much,’ she murmured, shaking her head in mild exasperation. ‘How can we eat all this! It’s only a few hours to dinner.’

  Paula laughed. ‘I know I Perhaps she feels you need building up. You know how she fusses over you. But she’s really gone to town today. It’s like the nursery teas she used to make when I was small.’

  ‘I’m not hungry at all,’ Emma murmured, ‘and she’s going to be so hurt if we don’t eat anything.’

  ‘I’m ravenous, so don’t worry,’ Paula remarked, picking up a sandwich. ‘It was cold up there on the moors and I rode for miles. It’s given me quite an appetite.’ She bit into the sandwich as Emma looked on approvingly.

  ‘I’m glad to see you eating for once. You always seem to pick at your food. No wonder you’re so thin…’

  The telephone on Emma’s desk rang. Paula jumped up. ‘Don’t disturb yourself, darling,’ she said, dashing across the room, ‘it’s probably only one of the family.’

  She picked up the phone. ‘Yes, Hilda. I’ll take it. Hello? It’s Paula. Do you want to speak to Grandmother?’ She listened briefly and said, ‘Oh, all right. Yes, Fine. Goodbye.’ Paula came back to her place on the sofa. ‘It was Aunt Elizabeth. She’s coming tomorrow morning and bringing the twins…and the husband!’

  ‘So now we know,’ Emma remarked with a chuckle. The telephone rang again. ‘Oh dear, I do hope they’re not all going to call and tell us when they are arriving. This could go on for the rest of the day,’ Emma exclaimed impatiently.

  Paula hurried across the room and took the call, which as always was monitored first by Hilda. ‘Emily! How are you?’ she cried when she heard her cousin’s voice. They were close friends. ‘Yes, of course you can. She’s right here.’ Paula put the phone down on the desk and motioned to Emma. ‘It’s Emily, Grandy, she wants to talk to you.’

  ‘Knowing Emily, this could be quite an involved conversation,’ Emma said with a smile, and picking up her cup of tea, she took it with her to the desk. Sitting down, she lifted the phone and said briskly, ‘Hello, darling. How are…’

  ‘I’m fine, Grandmother,’ Emily interrupted in her young breathy voice, in a tremendous rush as always. ‘I can’t talk long! I’m in a frightful hurry! But I just wanted to tell you that Sarah is flying up from London this afternoon. I’m going to pick her up at Yeadon airport at six-thirty, so we’ll definitely be there for dinner. Oh, and Alexander said to tell you he might be late. Uncle Kit’s being truculent about that machinery. He’s had Alexander going over all the figures again. Alexander’s furious! Well, anyway, he thinks he can be at Pennistone by eight o’clock, if that isn’t too late. Also, Jonathan is taking the train up from London to Leeds. But he said not to send Smithers. He’ll get a taxi.’

  All of this had issued forth in a steady uninterrupted stream, in Emily’s typical fashion, which Emma was quite accustomed to. She sat back comfortably, an amused glint in her eyes, listening attentively, occasionally sipping her tea. Emily was always pressed for time, even more so than she was herself, and it often occurred to Emma that her voluble and volatile young granddaughter seemed to speak in a series of exclamation marks. Now she said teasingly, ‘For someone in a rush this seems to be a very long conversation, Emily dear.’

  ‘Grandy! Don’t be mean! I can’t help it if all your idiot grandchildren make me the repository of their messages. Ooh! I’ve one more. Philip is going to try and come with me; if not, he’ll drive over with Alexander. Grandy dear…’ Emily paused and her voice dropped, was suddenly soft and full of lilting charm. ‘Can I ask a favour?’

  ‘Of course, darling,’ Emma replied, repressing an amused but loving smile. She knew that cajoling tone of Emily’s only too well, adopted whenever she wanted something.

  ‘Could I borrow one of your evening dresses, please? I only brought a few things when I came up to Bradford last week. I didn’t know you would be giving a big family party. I’ve nothing to wear. I looked through the store here today and everything is so dowdy! And I simply don’t have time to go over to the Leeds store.’

  Emma laughed. ‘If you think the clothes in the store are dowdy, I don’t know what you’ll find here, dear,’ she remarked, wondering what on earth a pretty twenty-one-year-old blonde dynamo could possibly find suitable in her wardrobe.

  ‘That red chiffo
n dress! The one from Paris! It fits me. So do the red silk shoes,’ Emily rushed on excitedly. ‘I knew you wouldn’t mind me trying it on, so I did last weekend when I was at Pennistone. It looks super on me, Grandy. Please, can I borrow it? I’ll be careful.’

  ‘I’d forgotten about that dress, Emily. Of course you can wear it, if you wish. I don’t know why I ever bought it in the first place. Perhaps you’d like to keep it,’ Emma suggested generously.

  Emily sucked in her breath in delighted surprise but said, ‘Oh, Grandy darling, I couldn’t do that!’ There was another little pause. ‘Don’t you want it, Grandmother?’

  Emma smiled to herself. ‘Not really, Emily. It’s far too dashing for me. It’s yours.’

  ‘Oh, Grandy! Goodness! Oh, thank you, darling! You’re an angel. Grandy?…’

  ‘Yes, Emily? What else?’

  ‘Would it be an imposition to ask you to lend me your old diamond earrings. That dress needs a little…well…it needs a little something, doesn’t it?’ Emily cried enthusiastically. ‘It needs good jewellery, don’t you think?’

  Emma burst out laughing. ‘Really, Emily, you’re so funny. I don’t know what you mean by old diamond earrings. Do I have such a thing?’

  ‘Yes! Those drops. The teardrops. You never wear them! Maybe you’ve forgotten them,’ Emily volunteered, her voice rising hopefully.

  ‘Oh, those. Yes. You can wear them and anything else you want. In the meantime, how are things at the Bradford store?’

  ‘Thank you, Grandy, for the earrings, I mean. And things here are very good. I’ll tell you about some of the changes I’ve made when I see you. Otherwise it’s all sort of quiet and dull.’

  ‘Well, you’ll be in Leeds next week, which isn’t so bad,’ Emma pointed out. ‘And we’ll talk about your changes tonight. By the way, it doesn’t matter if the boys are late. Hilda always makes a cold supper on Fridays,’ Emma explained, and went on, ‘Your mother just called. She’s coming tomorrow wi…’

  ‘Grandmother! Gosh! I forgot!’ Emily broke in. ‘I wanted to alert you to something awful. Mummy has had a furious row with the twins! Something about a statue they’ve made for you. They’re insisting on bringing it and Mummy says it’s simply hideous and won’t fit into the car. But that’s not surprising, with all the luggage she drags around with her. Anyway there’s been a terrible fuss and the twins are upset and they want to move in and live with you! I just thought you should know exactly what to expect!’ She sighed dramatically. ‘What a family!’

  ‘Thank you for telling me,’ Emma said thoughtfully. ‘But let’s not worry about all that now. I’m sure by the time Elizabeth arrives the twins will be calm again. They can stay with me for a while if they wish. Is that all, Emily?’ Emma asked patiently.

  ‘Yes. Gosh! I must rush, Grandy. I’m way behind. Goodbye. See you tonight.’

  ‘Goodbye…’ Emma stared at the telephone and then she laughed. Emily had already hung up. She leaned back in her chair and shook her head, still laughing. ‘It doesn’t surprise me at all that the store managers tremble when Emily arrives on the scene. She’s a whirlwind.’

  Paula smiled at Emma, nodding her head in agreement. ‘I know. But she’s awfully good at her job, Grandy. I think you ought to consider sending her to the Paris store for a while. She would be terrific.’

  Emma raised an eyebrow in surprise. ‘But she doesn’t speak French,’ she said, ‘otherwise I might consider it.’

  ‘She does, Grandy.’ Paula sat up. ‘She’s been taking lessons,’ Paula explained, cautiously feeling her way. ‘She would love to go and I think she might be the answer you’ve been looking for.’

  ‘Well, I’ll think about it,’ Emma remarked, rather pleased at Paula’s information. Emily was diligent, she knew that. Perhaps it was the solution. Emily, like all of her other grandchildren who were old enough, worked within the Harte companies and had proved herself to be tireless and assiduous in her work. She would consider it later. Now she turned her mind to more immediate problems. ‘I have made the seating plan for dinner,’ Emma began, and poured herself another cup of tea.

  Paula looked at her with interest. ‘Yes, you told me you were going to, Grandy.’ Paula waited expectantly.

  Emma cleared her throat. ‘I think I have seated everyone appropriately. I’ve tried to separate the ones who don’t get along too well, although, as I said, I am sure everyone will be on their best behaviour.’ She put her hand in her pocket and her fingers curled around the paper. She was still reluctant to bring it out and show it to Paula.

  ‘I hope so, Grandy! It’s such a crowd and you know how difficult some of them can be.’ She laughed sardonically. ‘Impossible, wouldn’t you say?’

  ‘Oh yes, indeed,’ Emma replied. She leaned back against the sofa and stared at Paula intently, questioningly. ‘I suppose they all thought I was drawing my last breath these last few weeks, didn’t they?’

  The unexpected question surprised Paula. ‘I don’t know,’ she began thoughtfully. ‘Perhaps…’ She hesitated and then her exasperation with her aunts and uncles got the better of her. ‘Oh, they’re such leeches, Grandy!’ she exclaimed angrily. ‘I don’t know why you bother with them! I’m sorry. I know they’re your children, but I just get furious every time I think of them.’

  ‘You don’t have to apologize to me, dear. I know only too well what they are.’ Emma smiled thinly. ‘I don’t delude myself that they are coming to see me out of concern. They accepted my invitation out of curiosity. Vultures come to regard the carcass. But I’m not dead yet and I have made no immediate plans for dying,’ she finished, a note of triumph in her voice.

  Paula leaned forward quickly, staring at Emma fixedly. ‘Then why did you invite them, Grandy, if you know what they are?’ she asked in a deliberate voice.

  Emma smiled enigmatically and her eyes turned cold. ‘I wanted to see them all together for one last time.’

  ‘Don’t say that, Grandy! You’re better and we are going to take care of you properly this time. To hell with the stores and business,’ Paula cried passionately.

  ‘By the “last time”, I meant the last time I will invite them here for this kind of weekend,’ Emma declared. ‘I have a little family business to attend to, and as they are involved, they should be here. All of them. Together.’ Her mouth tightened into the familiar resolute line and her eyes gleamed darkly.

  Concern clouded Paula’s eyes. ‘You must promise me you won’t let them upset you,’ she said, noting the expression on Emma’s face. ‘And you shouldn’t be worrying about family business this weekend. Is it so important it can’t wait?’ she demanded fiercely.

  ‘Oh, it’s nothing all that vital,’ Emma said dismissively with a shrug. ‘Just a few details regarding the trust funds. It won’t take long, and of course I won’t let them disturb me.’ A half smile flickered across her face. ‘Actually, I’m rather looking forward to it.’

  ‘I’m not sure that I am,’ Paula said carefully. ‘May I see the seating plan?’

  ‘Of course, darling.’ Emma moved her position slightly and put her hand in her pocket. She felt the paper and hesitated, and then, taking a deep breath, she pulled it out. ‘Here you are.’ She handed the paper to Paula, waiting expectantly, holding herself perfectly still, hardly daring now to breathe at all.

  Paula’s eyes travelled quickly over the paper. Emma was watching her intently. Paula’s eyes stopped. Opened wide. Moved on. Returned again to the previous spot. A look of total disbelief spread itself across her face. ‘Why, Grandy? Why?’ Her voice rose sharply in anger and the paper fluttered to the floor. Emma was silent, waiting for the initial surprise to disappear, for Paula to calm down.

  ‘Why?’ Paula demanded, jumping up, her face white, her mouth trembling. ‘You have no right to invite Jim Fairley tomorrow night. He’s not family. I don’t want him here! I won’t have him here! I won’t! I won’t! How could you, Grandmother!’

  She ran to the window and Emma could see she was fig
hting to control herself. Her thin shoulders hunched over as she pressed her forehead against the pane of glass, her narrow shoulder blades sharp and protruding under the silk dress. Emma’s heart ached with love for her and she felt her pain as deeply as if it were her own. ‘Come here and sit down. I want to talk to you, darling,’ Emma said softly.

  Paula swung around quickly, her eyes now so dark they looked navy blue. ‘I don’t want to talk to you, Grandmother. At least not about Jim Fairley!’ She stood poised by the window, defiant, reproachful, filled with rage. She trembled and clasped and unclasped her hands in agitation. How could her grandmother have been so thoughtless. To ask Jim Fairley to the dinner was cruel and unfair, and she had never known her grandmother to be either of these things. She turned her back on Emma and laid her head against the window again, looking out at the green treetops yet seeing nothing, pushing back the tears that rushed into her eyes.

  To Emma she looked suddenly pathetically young and vulnerable and hurt. She is the one thing of value I cherish, Emma thought, her heart contracting with love. Of all my grandchildren, she is the one I love the most. My hard and terrible life has been worth it just for the joy of her. This girl. This strong, dauntless, courageous, loyal girl who would put my desires before her own happiness.

  ‘Come here, darling. I have something I must tell you.’

  Paula stared at Emma abstractedly as if she were in shock. With reluctance she came back to the fireplace, moving like a sleepwalker, her face blank. She was still fuming, but the shaking had ceased. Her eyes were flat and dull, like hard stones of lapis lazuli in her ashen face. She sat down erect and rigid on the sofa. There was something contained, unyielding about her that was frightening to Emma, who knew she must quickly explain, so that look would leave her granddaughter for ever. Emma had chosen an oblique way of informing Paula that she had invited Jim Fairley to the dinner, because she did not trust herself to do it verbally. But now she must speak. Explain. Put the girl out of her terrible torment.