The Courtyard

by Marcia Willett

  But Gillian was too dazed to smile back. She could hardly take in the fact that she was not to blame for the whole tragedy yet, if Elizabeth believed it, she knew that she could, too. She took a deep breath and a huge wave of relief surged through her.

  ‘It’s been awful,’ she said shakily. ‘Oh, Elizabeth …”

  ‘I can imagine. Drink up. How are things with you and Henry?’

  ‘Wonderful.’ Gillian sipped and shook her head with a kind of disbelief. ‘He’s taken me back as if nothing has happened. And there’s no … you know … well, martyrdom or anything. No making me feel guilty. He’s … he’s just fantastic.’ She shook her head again. ‘I must have been mad.’

  Elizabeth pursed her lips and nodded. ‘Very likely,’ she agreed. ‘So now you can put it all behind you and start again. Lucky girl! Many people would give their right arms to be able to do just that.’

  ‘Oh, I know. I really do know how lucky I am. But …’ She sighed and frowned a little.

  ‘But what?’

  ‘Well. Even with what you’ve just said and the relief, I know that when I see Nell I shall still feel that terrible guilt. I’ve got so much and she’s got so little. I’d really love to have a baby now but can you imagine how I’d feel ballooning out and knowing that she lost her baby because of me? OK, OK, I accept what you say but even so. There I’ll be with Henry and Nethercombe and a baby and there she’ll be with nothing.’

  ‘She has a child, I believe?’

  ‘Yes she has. A little boy of twelve or so.’

  ‘And if you’d been left homeless and penniless and your husband dead, d’you think you’d want a newborn baby to worry about on top of it all?’

  ‘Come on, Elizabeth! That’s a bit much, isn’t it?’

  Elizabeth held up a finger. ‘D’you know, I think you should make friends with Nell. You’d probably be surprised at how she’s feeling.’ She paused for a moment and Gillian finished her drink feeling quite light-headed with shock and relief. ‘What’s she doing with herself?’

  ‘She’s looking for a job. She’s helping Guy in his yacht brokerage at the moment but I think it’s just to break her into the workplace as gently as possible. He can’t afford to employ anyone full time. You can imagine how difficult it will be for her.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Elizabeth thoughtfully. ‘Yes I can. Oddly, one of the reasons I asked you over today was to offer you a job.’

  ‘A job? Me?’

  ‘Well, you know what I said about Satan finds? I think a lot of your … well, indiscretions were due to not having enough to do. I wondered if you’d like to join me in my business? Don’t look so nonplussed. I’m not getting any younger and you’ve got excellent taste and judgement which is really what it’s all about. Naturally you’d have to come about with me to begin with. Generally, though, I work for people who haven’t a clue how to start to decorate or furnish their new house but have a good idea of what they want the finished product to look like. They spend hours looking through my catalogues and colour swatches and I recommend decorators and so on until we arrive at the desired effect. A client may want the entire house done with everything in the same period, others want a drawing room done over, or a study. Something special. They’ll give me a budget and I go round the salerooms and auctions looking for the right pieces, or rugs and even paintings. It’s great fun and enormously satisfying. I thought you might enjoy it. And the money.’

  ‘Oh, Elizabeth …’

  ‘I know, I know. That was a blow below the belt. But what d’you think?’

  ‘It sounds … It sounds fun and … Well, I don’t know what to say. You’ve rather taken my breath away. I’d love it. But I do want to have a baby, you know. I shall go on trying.’

  ‘I understand that. And I’ve been thinking. Supposing you asked Nell if she’d like to work for me, too. D’you think she’d be any good at my sort of business? Is she trainable?’

  ‘Gosh!’ Gillian sat up, her eyes shining. ‘What a brilliant idea. She’d be great, I’m sure she would. Gussie told me that she took a degree in Fine Arts and it’s just the sort of thing she’d be interested in.’

  ‘Good. Supposing you sound her out? There’s no rush. Give her time to think. You could work together, perhaps.’

  ‘We’d have to. Nell hasn’t got a car.’

  ‘Of course, you’d get less money if I took her on.’ Elizabeth watched Gillian thoughtfully. ‘I couldn’t afford two good salaries.’

  ‘I don’t want the money, Elizabeth. No, don’t look like that! Things are easier now and I … Well, I don’t dash about so much and Nell really needs everything she can lay her hands on. Oh, Elizabeth, it would be fantastic!’

  Elizabeth smiled at her goddaughter and stood up.

  ‘Excellent! I shall leave it in your hands to arrange. Why don’t you bring Nell over one day?’

  Gillian stood up too. ‘I don’t know what to say, Elizabeth,’ she said unsteadily. ‘I know you’ve been getting me out of the shit all my life. But this time—’

  ‘This time,’ interrupted Elizabeth, ‘it’s given me enormous pleasure. So forget it. Come on! Finish that drink. It’s time for lunch!’

  Twenty-seven

  JACK, HOME FOR THE holidays, did more than anyone else could to restore Nell to hope and happiness. He loved being at Nethercombe. He had decided to follow his Uncle Rupert into the Army and spent most of his time exploring, making camps and helping Mr Ridley on the estate. He adored this elderly countryman who entered into all his games with a great seriousness and began to teach him how to use a gun. Had Nell known how far from perfect Mr Ridley’s eyesight was, she would probably have been a great deal less happy at Jack’s forays with his unlikely companion at arms. Fortunately, ignorance is bliss and Nell was relieved and delighted that Jack seemed able to put all the tragedy behind him and enter into life with such great zest.

  With Jack’s arrival Mr Ridley, too, seemed to be having a second lease of life.

  ‘Daft ole fewel,’ remarked his wife when he told her about each day’s exploits but secretly she was pleased.

  ‘Got ’is ’ead screwed on right,’ said Mr Ridley, eating his tea with relish. ‘’E’ll mek a good sojer.’

  ‘Since when’ve yew bin in the recruitment officer’s confidence, then?’ asked Mrs Ridley, heavily sarcastic, pushing a plate of ham nearer to his hand.

  ‘Ah. Doan‘ee fergit, I was in the desert, maid. A desert rat, I was,’ said Mr Ridley, who had celebrated his twenty-first birthday in North Africa. ‘I c’n tell ’im a thing or two!’

  Mrs Ridley raised eyes and shoulders heavenwards and snorted.

  ‘I thought that ole desert’d come into it some’ow. Get that ‘am down. Yewer gonna need all yewer strength if yewer gonna be playin’ games at yewer age.’

  ‘I’ll ‘ave a bit o’ that cake, maid. Cut a slice for the boy. We’re doin’ a bit of target practice direckly.’

  ‘Yew be careful.’ Mrs Ridley cut cake with a generous hand and wrapped it in a napkin.

  ‘No call to worry, maid. I won’t let no ’arm come to ‘im. ’Twas I taught Mr ’Enry remember, when ’e was a tacker.’

  Mr Ridley ate his cake while his wife looked on, arms folded across her aproned bosom. Their only daughter had married a Welsh farmer and they rarely saw her or their two granddaughters. Jack, with his rosy face and cheerful smile, took them back to their younger days and filled an empty niche in their lives. In their different ways they both loved having him around.

  ‘Told ’im ‘bout that time yew met Monty, then?’ asked Mrs Ridley casually. ‘Told ’im what ‘e said to yew?’

  Mr Ridley washed his cake down with a gulp of tea, pocketed Jack’s slice and made for the door. He beamed shyly at her – lips pressed together – nodded, gave her a quick wink and disappeared.

  ‘Daft ole fewel,’ muttered his spouse, tears in her eyes as she collected up plates. ‘Still a tacker at ’eart fer all ‘e’s more’n seventy.’ And she mopped fiercely
at her eyes with her apron, clicking her tongue in disdain at her own weakness.

  GUY, TOO, WAS MORE than happy to take Jack under his wing. He took him out sailing and let him row his little dinghy on the Dart, so long as he kept within view of the office in the Marina. Jack went with him when he had to move craft from one mooring to another and during the long weeks of the summer holiday he learned to handle boats with great confidence. Guy took him into the Royal Castle where he was charmed by Mary who asked if he’d like a pint and pretended to be amazed when he told her that he was only thirteen.

  Nell was filled with a heartfelt gladness that his life was so full and happy. When he recounted the day’s doings to her she could have wept. She couldn’t decide, however, whether she was relieved or worried that he seemed to have almost wiped John out of his mind altogether. It seemed to her that, being unable to identify or understand his father’s last awful action, he had let him go. They talked of him sometimes but rather as a dear – if distant – old friend who had gone away on a long holiday, than as a father or husband. Nell understood her own feelings, knowing that her love for John had always held reservations, but she felt sad for Jack. Of course, John had been away at sea so much in those first eight or nine years of his life that it probably wasn’t terribly surprising and, when John came ashore, Jack was already settled at boarding school. Nevertheless, he was his father …

  Nell sighed and put it away from her. She had enough worries without inviting more by wishing that Jack was grieving for his father and missing him. As for the baby, it was only natural that Jack should rarely think of him at all. That was all in the past and real life was here and now; going out with Mr Ridley to pot at rabbits, sailing with Guy or exploring Dartmoor – or as much of it as they could reach on foot.

  No one was aware how terribly Nell missed her little car or how she hated being dependent on others but she knew that until there was a prospect of a proper job with a decent wage there was no chance of one. At least she was surrounded by people who were very ready to help out. She enjoyed her days in the office and had gained a great deal of confidence but she knew that it couldn’t last for ever. She realised by now that Guy was going short himself to finance her and she wasn’t prepared to accept his kindness for much longer. She saw that on the days he had to be out of the office she was useful to him and, when the holidays started, she cut back her time to those days only. Thinking that Guy had been helping her out of the kindness of his heart, she imagined that he would be relieved to have his expenses reduced, not suspecting that he would have given even more to have her with him. However, the holidays were a natural break and Guy was intelligent enough to accept that his relationship with Nell must take a back seat until they were over.

  It was during these weeks, as the summer lengthened and autumn approached, that the friendship between Gillian and Nell began to flower. It started cautiously. Nell had never taken much to Gillian while John was alive and Gillian, despite her talk with Elizabeth, still felt terribly guilty. Slowly, however, barriers were pushed back and common ground explored. Jack was a great help. He still liked Gillian enormously and her partiality to him softened Nell’s heart as nothing else could. Even the most balanced, sensible parent is not immune to praise of his or her offspring; the most cynical and hard-headed is easily able to swallow the most gratuitous flattery. Nell was no exception and at least Gillian’s praise and affection for Jack was sincere. Gussie, of course, was another route to Nell’s heart and her obvious pleasure at the two girls’ burgeoning friendship encouraged it even more.

  So it was that, by the time Jack went off to school, Nell was glad of Gillian’s companionship. She was very anxious at the thought of him at public school. She knew that the transition from a small school, where he had been one of the biggest and most important, to a school four times the size, where the oldest boys were men of eighteen and Jack would be amongst the smallest and least important, was a very big step indeed. Fortunately, Jack had no idea that he was in such an ignominious and humble position and plunged into his new life with his usual enthusiasm and confidence. Nell received his first letter with trepidation and read it with mounting joy, rushing up to the house to share her delight in its contents with all Jack’s friends. Henry heard with private relief that he’d made some new friends as well as there being several old ones from his prep school, Gussie heard with pleasure that he had come top in a history test and the Ridleys learned with various degrees of emotion that the food was nowhere as good as Nethercombe’s, that he’d joined the CCF and, having made a good showing on the rifle range, was being considered for the team. When this last was reported, Mr Ridley – his eyes suspiciously bright – was obliged to get up and take a few turns round the kitchen so great was his pride. Mrs Ridley beamed privately into the Aga oven and planned great things for the first exeat.

  Gillian knew that the time had come to moot the possibility of the job with Elizabeth and lay awake for most of the night writing scripts for herself and Nell until she was exhausted. She walked along the avenue on a misty morning in early October, telling herself not to be so silly, and knocked lightly on the door of the Lodge.

  ‘Gillian!’ Nell’s pleasure certainly looked and sounded genuine and Gillian breathed out thankfully. Even now, she stood rather in awe of Nell’s beauty and reserve and, coupled with her guilt, it was always a tricky first few minutes. ‘Come in and have some coffee. I was just reading the paper and looking for a job.’

  Gillian’s spirits soared up and she immediately jettisoned all her carefully thought out scripts. There simply could not have been a better opening.

  ‘Anything in particular?’ She followed Nell into the kitchen and perched at the old oak refectory table.

  ‘Oh, I don’t know. I don’t think I’m going to be in a position to pick and choose.’ Nell shook her head despondently. ‘It’ll have to be something pretty lowly. Guy’s been preparing me for that. I can cope with the telephone and customers and very slowly with his computer. The trouble is that I’m in competition with bright school-leavers who have advanced computer skills.’

  ‘It’s funny you should talk about a job.’ Gillian’s heart beat fast and she took a calming breath, choosing her words carefully while Nell made coffee. ‘My godmother’s looking for someone to help her out. I think you’ve met her briefly. Tall, elegant, dark woman. Looks about thirty although she must be fifty.’

  ‘I think so. On the terrace with Gussie once.’ Nell put mugs and a sugar bowl on the table. ‘What does she do?’

  ‘Well, the quick answer is interior design. She advises people on how to decorate and furnish their houses. Sometimes she does the whole thing from scratch. Sometimes just a room. Not the actual physical decoration, of course. But she goes to sales and auctions for them and generally sorts them out. It’s fascinating, actually.’

  ‘It sounds it.’ Nell was staring at Gillian as though she could hardly believe what might be coming. ‘Does she want an assistant?’

  ‘That’s it!’ Gillian spooned in some sugar. ‘Says she’s getting old for all the dashing about. I think she’s thinking of handing it over in the not-too-distant future. She’s worked at it all her life and it would be tragic to just let it go when she retires. She’s got a first-class reputation. ’

  ‘But d’you think she’d consider me? I got a First in Fine Arts but never did anything with it. I got married instead.’ Nell shook her head and sat down opposite. ‘It sounds too good to be true. She’ll want someone with experience, surely?’

  ‘She doesn’t actually,’ said Gillian casually, clasping both hands round her mug to keep them from trembling. It was so important to get it right. ‘In fact she’s asked me to have a go for the time being. I don’t want to make it a full-time career because I hope to have a baby …’

  She flushed scarlet and bowed her head in horrified shame. How could she have been so tactless? This was just what she had dreaded and feared. Nell, too excited by the thought of such a wonderful ch
ance to think of her own tragedy, watched her in surprise. She hadn’t thought that Gillian was so easily embarrassed. What was wrong with wanting a baby?

  ‘Of course you do,’ she said. ‘That’s only natural. Gillian, would you ask her if she’d consider me? I’m sure I could do it if she’s prepared to train me. I’d be so grateful.’

  ‘Absolutely.’ Gillian had recovered herself. ‘Personally, I think you’d be just right for her.’ She looked around at the Welsh dresser with its display of lovely china and at the old heavy oak chairs. ‘I can see by all your lovely things that you’ve got good taste. Perhaps …’ She shrugged a little, casually. ‘Perhaps we might start off together. You know? Give each other confidence? Then later, when I drop out …’ She stopped again and glanced at Nell.

  ‘It sounds far too miraculous to be possible,’ breathed Nell. ‘It would be lovely to start off together if your godmother would allow it. I’m quite terrified of going out there alone. Anyway,’ her face fell, ‘I haven’t got a car.’

  ‘Well, there you are,’ said Gillian quickly. ‘That’s no problem. We can use mine and, if all goes well, you’d probably be able to afford a little one quite quickly.’

  ‘I can’t bear it,’ said Nell, her cheeks flushed with excitement. ‘It’s too exciting. This could be so perfect. Just exactly what I would have asked for if I’d thought there was the least chance of it happening. Oh, Gillian. When will you see your godmother next?’