Into the Blue

by Christina Green

  The journal, a pale blue scuffed leather book, burned a hole in Hester’s pocket as the train steamed out of London, gaining pace and then racing towards the West Country and home. She didn’t want to look at it. Yes, she did. And so, reading with increasing interest and shock, she learned the details of Jonathon West’s fatal accident among those dangerous mountains and treacherous rivers. The last paragraph, in Nicholas’s strong handwriting, made her catch her breath.

  I shall go back and try and fulfil Jon’s mission by taking the same track where he slipped and fell and then going on up into the higher peaks. If I can find that damned plant I know my mind will clear. But until then I am at the mercy of burning guilt and restlessness. I look forward to the new expedition with sad memories, yet with a fierce hope of something positive redeeming them. All I can do now is to take this step into the blue. Who knows what I shall find?

  Hester wiped away her tears and spent the rest of the journey staring out of the window. The countryside passed in all its beauty – roses winding through the hedges, trees shading the stock grazing lush green fields – but she hardly saw any of it. Her mind was refilled with a new determination and resolve.

  There were signs of change at Oak House. Ruby answered the front door as Hester arrived. ‘Welcome home, Miss Redding.’

  Hester heard the newly acquired gentility slip as Ruby added, ‘We haven’t half missed you.’

  ‘Thank you.’ So someone had warm thoughts of her. With Ruby in attendance with the valise, she went upstairs.

  ‘Everything’s going along nicely, Miss Redding. Madam is pleased that I can wheel her around the garden in the new invalid carriage and, do you know, she even suggested we take a stroll down to Mrs Hirst’s cottage? We’re going later this afternoon.’ Ruby stood in the bedroom doorway while Hester removed her coat and hat and went to the washbasin.

  ‘I’ll leave you to tidy up, Miss Redding, and then I expect you’ll be ready for luncheon. A sherry beforehand, perhaps?’ And she went downstairs, leaving Hester smiling. What a change; what a well-mannered, thoughtful girl Ruby had become. And, drying her hands and smoothing her hair, she thought how surprisingly well this new responsible and warm-hearted persona was fitting into the jigsaw puzzle she was trying so hard, and so daringly, to put together.

  It was afternoon before she had a chance to talk to Ruby alone. Luncheon was full of Emma’s questions about Kew and the more than likely discomfort of rail travel, followed by yawns and then being helped upstairs for the afternoon nap.

  Hester caught Ruby in the hall. ‘Come into the garden, will you? I want to talk to you.’ Outside, walking down the long borders, noticing how, in her short absence, flowers had bloomed, faded and been replaced by more buds, Hester looked at the well-dressed girl beside her, thought for a second how Ruby had grown into a more mature and attractive person, and then asked warily, ‘Tell me about Hugh. What did he say when he called? What did you say?’

  Ruby looked at her with sympathetic eyes. ‘I gave him your message. He shouted a bit, but then, well, he’s polite, isn’t he? Said he was sorry and drove away. He said he’d come and see you in a few days’ time.’ She laughed. ‘Not too bad, was it? Maybe he’ll come by this evening – well, that gives you time to think, doesn’t it?’

  Hester bent down, fingering a leaf of a cottage garden pink, smelling the clove scent of the white laced flowers as she did so. Ruby’s words, her sensible attitude, soothed the uneasiness inside her, and she looked into the green eyes watching her, and asked slowly, ‘Ruby, you don’t think I should marry him, do you?’

  ‘Not if you’d rather have that nice Mr Nicholas, Miss Redding.’

  A long, thoughtful moment, and then shared smiles. Ruby’s expression hinted at wry amusement and Hester felt in her bones that this was surely nothing short of a revelation. Abruptly a shaft of light chased the dark and painful shadows out of her mind as she recognized truth in Ruby’s advice.

  Of course she would rather have Nicholas. But he had said they must not meet again.

  Thoughts swirled and fluttered in her mind. Life was hard, and ridiculous: Hugh wanted her, but Nicholas did not. Or did he? Then, as if he were close, she was aware of those past sweet moments in the summerhouse with him beside her. When he had said those magical words – I could love you, Hester – only to apologize for them later.

  Never had she felt so bewildered, so unsure of how to resolve these muddling images and thoughts, of how to live her life, alone, if she chose not to marry Hugh. And then the beauty and solace of the garden entered into her spinning consciousness and she looked down at the flowers at her feet: she heard the heavy green oak leaves fluttering as a breeze touched them; felt the serenity of the surrounding countryside soothe and inspire her, and out of that calming moment she came back to her gift – to painting – and knew then, with an ever fiercer passion, that this was the way to go.

  Returning to the moment, she saw Ruby watching her and said quietly, ‘Thank you, Ruby. I needed to talk to someone. I’m going to forget both Hugh and Nicholas and live an independent life. I shall make a career for myself in painting – I’m going to be a botanical artist and nothing will stop me.’

  Her words hung in the air, as they smiled like old friends. Then, matter of factly, Ruby said, ‘I’m glad you’ve decided, Miss Redding. And if I helped, well, I’m glad about that, too. Now, I dessay you want to be alone to make your plans, so I’ll tell Hoskins to get the invalid carriage ready for Madam, and then we’ll be off down to Mrs Hirst for tea. We shall be home again before dinner, so if you need me, I’ll be here.’

  Hester watched her walk away. Ruby, who had so amazingly become more than just a servant; much more like a sister, in fact. But of course, she wasn’t a sister, just Stepmother’s companion. How extraordinary life was, often puzzling and painful, but also offering unexpected and joyful moments leading to an inner contentment. Really extraordinary.

  Hugh did not call that evening. Hester, tense at the prospect of making an end to their so-called engagement, felt the hours pass with increasing relief. He would come tomorrow, which gave her another day to find the necessary words and strength to face him. She wished, above all, not to hurt him. She and Hugh had been friends for so long that it was dreadful to think of his certain pain at her rejection of his proposal. How good if they could return to easy friendship, but she supposed it would not be possible.

  The morning brought the postman with a letter from London informing her that the judges at the Royal Botanic Gardens at Kew had decided that her entry in the competition had been chosen as the winner. Hester gasped and had to read the letter twice.

  We have pleasure in awarding your painting of Melittis melissophyllum (bastard balm) the prize as we consider it to be the best one entered in the competition. We congratulate you and would be pleased to know if you can be present at the award ceremony next Tuesday.

  The letter was signed by Matilda Smith, the resident botanical artist, who had added a note.

  I gave Mr Flynn a piece of my mind. He apologized, said he recognized your talent and was going through a bad time financially and had acted on impulse when he sent in your painting of the bastard balm. He wishes you well and hopes you will forgive what he has neatly decided to call an aberration of his artistic conscience. All over now.

  Emma Redding looked up from her toast and marmalade. ‘Bad news, dear? Oh, I do hope not.’

  Hester laughed joyously. ‘No, Stepmother, good news for once! Don’t look so worried – it really is good.’ She met Ruby’s enquiring eyes across the table and waved the letter at her. ‘I’ve won a competition! My flower painting was the best entry! I have to go to London and receive my prize! I can’t believe it! Oh, Ruby, mine was better than all the others – I don’t know what to say!’

  ‘That’s wonderful, Miss Redding. Of course you must believe it. There in black and white, isn’t it?’ Ruby’s smile was broad. ‘Here, have some more coffee – it’ll bring you down to earth!’


  Perhaps it did. Hester was then able to explain to Stepmother exactly what had happened, and to tell Ruby that she would go into town after breakfast and telegraph her acceptance of the invitation. ‘And I’ll telegraph Miss Watson, too – I’m sure she’ll let me stay with her for a few days.’

  ‘Tell you what, Miss Redding.’ Ruby was full of good advice, as usual. ‘Go and buy yourself a new frock for the prize winning, something bright. I mean, you can’t wear mourning for ever, you know, and I’m sure Mr Redding wouldn’t mind, in the circumstances.’

  Hester blinked away sudden ridiculous tears – why cry over such good news? ‘How sensible you are, Ruby – I’ll do that. And I’ll go and tell Aunt Jacks, and Hugh—’ She stopped, feeling some of the joy fade. What would Hugh think? Then commonsense returned and with it a complete feeling of new self-confidence. She would find the right words when the time came.

  The morning fled past. Aunt Jacks was delighted. ‘My dearest child, you deserve it. I always said you were exceptionally talented. And I’m sure Emily will allow you to stay with her again.’ Those dark, astute eyes raked Hester’s radiant face. ‘And will this make any difference to – well – whatever plans you are making?’

  ‘Plans?’ Down to earth again, Hester knew that she was, indeed, making plans but not yet able to talk about them. Flashes of ideas, hopes, certainties ... very soon they must formulate themselves into reality. Her smile returned. She was ready now to step out into that blue that Father had talked about. And with this award behind her, there could well be offers of commissions to encourage her, to enable her to find a new place in the world. ‘Yes, Aunt Jacks, I have plans and I’ll tell you about them very soon. But now I have to go into town.’ Excitement grew again. ‘Ruby says I must have a new dress!’

  She went off in the trap with Aunt Jacks’ blessing and spent a happy hour in the department store in Newton Abbot choosing a dress in good taste, becoming but not garish. Pale lavender brocade, with deeper panels, and within the boundaries of mourning still, but appealing and suitable for an occasion. Then on to the Post Office to send a message asking Emily Watson for a bed for a few nights again, and then, ‘Hoskins, into Bovey Tracey, please. Quickly.’

  Hugh was available at once. She sat on the hard chair opposite him and looked across the desk feeling strangely sure of herself. He had taken her hand as soon as she entered the room, then kissed her cheek, smiling and looking at her with affection. The words she needed were difficult to find, but they came, slowly, and without any tremor in her voice.

  ‘Hugh, I have won an important painting prize, which means I have begun my career as a botanical artist.’ Swallowing a dryness in her throat, she knew she mustn’t stop. ‘And so I have to decline your proposal of marriage.’ Now her voice cracked. ‘I’m sorry, Hugh, but that’s what I have decided.’

  He said nothing, sitting there staring at her, his brown eyes gradually losing their brightness. Then he heaved a sigh, moved in his chair, looking as if he were fighting a deep pain. ‘Well,’ he said, at last, getting to his feet and coming around the table to stand beside her. ‘Well, of course, that’s marvellous news, Hester. I congratulate you. But it’s the worst possible news for me.’

  She rose, standing at his side, close enough to watch him forcing a smile onto his face. What could she say? She waited. And then, slowly, putting an arm around her shoulder, he said, ‘I’m not completely surprised. I know how much you need your painting. But one thing I ask, dear Hester.’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘That if you are ever in need – of any sort whatever – you will come to me. We’ve always been friends and I hope that we may continue to be.’

  Tears threatened but she resisted them. Instead she lifted her face and gently kissed his cheek. ‘Such a good friend, Hugh, and I’ll never forget it. I hope – so much – that you will soon find someone else, someone who will be more your model of a good wife than I am.’

  He released her, smiled, even chuckled. ‘Only one thing I can say now – plenty of good fish in the sea, Hester! Not quite the catch I had hoped for, but that’s life for you.’

  They parted fondly and Hester knew, driving back to Oak House, that this was one occasion when capricious life had bestowed one more great blessing on her. Hugh would always be her friend.

  London was as noisy and grey as she remembered from the previous visit, but there was the excitement of the award ceremony, with compliments and advice given to her by both Miss Smith and other smiling dignitaries of the Gardens. Emily Watson accompanied her to the ceremony, telling her beforehand that she looked quite lovely. ‘That colour suits you, and believe me, you look every inch the young artist who is on her way.’

  Emily was busy with preparations for the departure of the expedition very shortly and so Hester returned home the next day. But not before she had asked, hoping that the question would only be seen as a casual one, ‘And will Nicholas Thorne be going with you, Miss Watson?’

  ‘He’s already left, Hester. So much to do before I arrive – the accommodation to arrange, couriers to find and porters, and so on.’ Emily smiled. ‘I’ll be sure to give him your good news when we meet. I expect he’ll be delighted.’

  ‘Yes. Thank you.’ Hester allowed an image of Nicholas to flash into her mind: tall, suntanned face full of angle and planes, that direct gaze, the low resonant voice and those vivid eyes. He would be pleased, of course he would. But don’t think about him any more. She must get home and make her own plans. A new career. A step out into the frightening, wonderful world – alone.

  Ruby sat opposite her in the drawing room, sharing a last cup of coffee before they both retired. ‘So what are you going to do? Now that you’re on your way? Can’t stay here, can you?’

  Hester met the enquiring green gaze. ‘No,’ she said, and then knew this was the moment to decide exactly what she would do. ‘I might go back to my original plan, before Father died.’ Just for a moment they looked at each other, sharing the dark memories, and then, ‘Find myself somewhere to live and work at my painting.’

  Ruby nodded, waited, stirring sugar into her cup.

  Hester took a deep breath. ‘I’ve told Hugh I can’t marry him.’

  ‘That’s good.’ There was a light note in Ruby’s voice. ‘So what about that lovely Mr Nicholas?’

  What about him? Hester looked away. ‘He’s gone abroad. He doesn’t want to see me again.’ Her voice was sharp.

  ‘But that’s awful.’ Ruby sounded shocked. ‘I mean, you want to see him, don’t you?’

  ‘I—’ The truth – face it. ‘Yes, I do.’

  Ruby chuckled. ‘Well, then, it’s obvious – go and find him.’

  ‘But he said—’

  ‘That’s rubbish. I saw him, I heard him. He loves you. Really, Hester, you’re very silly, you know.’ She frowned, leant nearer. ‘Of course, he’s just a gardener and you’re a lady. That’s what’s really the matter, isn’t it?’

  ‘No!’ The word was sharp. Then a whisper. ‘But he thinks so.’

  Ruby’s voice raised. ‘And here you are, planning to be one of these new liberated ladies who do whatever they want, and yet you’re not doing it, are you?’

  Hester couldn’t think straight. Yes, she could go and find him. Tell him nothing mattered except their being together. She might even help to work out all that awful guilt. But what would he say? Would he turn her away, again?

  The most important things in life. Truth. Strength. Decisions.

  Suddenly she stood up, nearly overbalancing the small table holding the coffee cups, smiling at Ruby, and laughing as she said, ‘I’ll go! I’ll ask Miss Watson if I can join her expedition. I’ll find him.’

  ‘Thank goodness that’s decided,’ said Ruby wryly. ‘You know I’ll be here looking after Mrs Redding, running the house, and now you’ve got rid of Mr Hugh, there’s nothing stopping you, is there?’ She stopped, blinked. ‘And I think Mr Redding would like to think you were doing what you wanted so badly.’


  ‘I believe he would.’ Hester looked at Ruby, thoughts suddenly running backwards. ‘You wanted to be Father’s daughter, didn’t you? But now you’re Stepmother’s companion instead. Are you happy, Ruby?’

  Hester watched the small cat’s-face grow taut, and then with an explosion of certainty, let a big smile break through. ‘Yes, I am. I’m someone who matters now. Not the saucy bit who came here thinking she could teach the family a lesson and better myself.’ A pause, and then, ‘You see, once I was here, living with all of you and learning such a lot, I knew I could better myself without being nasty. I could take a step forward and see what life had to offer. And that’s what I’ve done.’ Ruby’s face was radiant. ‘I’ve pushed myself up in the world and I’m happy enough.’ She grinned. ‘Just look at me! Nice clothes, bossing the servants and calling you Hester... .’

  A step forward. Hester nodded, her mind dancing as voices and images and hopes all met and embraced.

  It’s worked for Ruby so it’ll work for me, too. One more step into a new life.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Emily Watson’s reply to Hester’s urgent telegraph message came by return.

  ‘Delighted your suggestion. Yes come. Prepare for heat and rough walking. Bring painting materials, shady hat, stout shoes. Leaving a.m. Friday. E.W.’

  So many last-minute tasks. Packing, telling Aunt Jacks she was leaving, receiving her promise to care for Stepmother while she was away. Discussing with Ruby the household chores to be dealt with; the garden and the maintenance of the cob and the trap; ensuring that Stepmother must be consulted on any details of domesticity; and then, a visit to Father’s grave.