The Lost Empress

by Steve Robinson

  ‘Charles.’

  It was her mother, speaking softly. Alice saw her pale hand land as gentle as a butterfly on her father’s arm, and it seemed that all the tension drained from him. He sat back in his seat, and Alice turned away, thankfully distracted by the bowl of soup that had been set before her. She was aware that the general conversation, which had been lively when she first entered the room, had now stopped, and as she forced a smile and nodded to each of the guests in their dinner jackets and evening gowns, she saw that the reason was because everyone was already smiling back at her. The dining room, with its many old family portraits, always felt overcrowded to Alice, no matter how many guests had been invited to dinner. Tonight, though, the attention of all those eyes, which now seemed to stare at her, was close to unbearable.

  ‘How have you been, Alice?’

  Frank Saxby’s silky tones drew Alice’s eye, and she turned to him.

  ‘We don’t see much of you these days, do we, Bea?’ Saxby continued, addressing her as he turned to his wife, Beatrice, who was sitting opposite him.

  ‘No,’ Beatrice said. ‘Hardly at all since the wedding.’

  ‘I’m very well,’ Alice said, smiling politely to disguise the truth.

  She knew Frank as Uncle Frank, although he was no relation—just a good friend of her father’s since long before she was born. She had never directly asked, but Alice was of the impression that their friendship harked back to their school days. Saxby was a businessman who had made his money selling asbestos to the building industry, and according to her father, was someone so adept at his profession that he could sell snow to Eskimos.

  At the opposite end of the table were Lord Abridge and his wife, whom Alice had only met a few times at one event or another in connection with the Admiralty. Then there was her Aunt Cordelia and her husband, Oscar Scanlon, whose poorly advised business ventures had all but left them in financial ruin, and was the reason why they had now been in residence at Hamberley going on five years—much to her father’s displeasure. They had a son, Edwin, whom Alice thought as disagreeable as his father. Thankfully, he was away at university, which was something else her father’s estate was paying for.

  Archie was sitting immediately to Alice’s right, and the years since she’d last seen him had done little to alter his appearance. He was still the same slim-figured boy she had known all her life, with tidy medium-brown hair and dimples in his cheeks whenever he smiled. She had teased him about his dimples so many times as they were growing up, but in truth she had always thought them quite a charming feature. Seeing him again brought back so many fond memories of their time growing up together that she felt her spirits lift, if only for a moment. As soon as he spoke, he seemed to inject the life back into the room as everyone continued their conversations and began the first course.

  ‘It’s awfully good to see you again, Alice. You look very well.’

  ‘Thank you, Archie. It’s good to see you, too. You haven’t changed a bit.’

  ‘Really?’ He sounded disappointed. ‘But surely my sideburns must have grown a little by now? You know how I’ve always wanted a pair.’

  Alice picked up her spoon and laughed to herself as she tested the soup. There had always been laughter between them, and she welcomed it now. ‘I’m sure they’re very fetching.’

  Missing from the gathering were Admiral Waverley and his wife. He was another close friend of Alice’s father, and she couldn’t imagine why they wouldn’t have been invited. She thought the Admiral must have been otherwise engaged on important naval business.

  ‘No Admiral Waverley this evening?’ she asked, and the room fell silent.

  Alice looked around the table at all the faces that were now staring at her as though she had just asked her father to explain something as inappropriate as how a steam turbine worked.

  Her father’s beard twitched several times before he spoke. ‘I’m sorry, Alice. I should have told you before now.’ He paused.

  ‘Whatever is it?’ Alice asked.

  Her father sighed. ‘Our good friend Christopher Waverley has passed on.’

  Alice’s face dropped. ‘He died? When?’

  ‘Barely two weeks ago.’

  ‘But how? What happened?’

  ‘They said it was a heart attack, although what he was doing near Tilbury Docks in the middle of the night is beyond my reckoning.’

  Lord Abridge spoke then. ‘He was found on the muddy riverbank between the docks and Tilbury Fort, poor fellow. It was lucky the tide didn’t take him.’

  ‘Quite,’ her father said. ‘Another half an hour and his body might never have been found.’

  ‘That’s terrible news,’ Alice said.

  ‘Yes, and I’m afraid that’s not all of it. His wife is missing.’

  ‘Missing?’ Alice said, scrunching her brow. This was all too much to take in.

  Alice’s mother joined the conversation. ‘Florence hasn’t been seen since her husband’s death,’ she said. ‘It’s all very peculiar.’

  Lord Abridge cleared his throat and said, ‘There’s something fishy about the whole bally business if you ask me.’

  Alice’s father placed a hand on hers. ‘I hope you’ll forgive me for not breaking the news to you sooner.’

  ‘Of course, Father.’

  Everyone continued eating again, but without speaking for a few minutes as though out of respect for their friend departed. When the silence broke, it was Lord Metcalfe, speaking to Archie.

  ‘I should have liked your father and mother to attend this evening, Archie. But duty first, eh?’

  ‘Of course, but His Majesty’s Navy has always been my father’s first mistress.’

  ‘As well I know. And yours, too, no doubt?’

  ‘My first and only mistress at this time, sir,’ Archie said, stealing an awkward glance at Alice.

  ‘And how are you finding things in Whitehall?’

  ‘In all honesty, sir, I’d sooner be a fighting man again, serving aboard one of His Majesty’s warships.’

  Lord Metcalfe laughed. ‘I admire your spirit, Archie, but you’re still boxing for the Navy aren’t you?’

  ‘Yes, but it’s not quite the—’

  ‘Well then,’ Lord Metcalfe cut in. ‘And you shouldn’t underestimate the work that goes on at the Admiralty. Battles are rarely won on the front line these days. And our defensive strategies, particularly when it comes to our homeland, are just as important as our offensive strategies.’

  ‘Hear, hear!’ Lord Abridge chipped in.

  ‘You’ve a sharp mind,’ Lord Metcalfe continued. ‘Both your father and myself are in agreement that you are best placed to serve our great nation where you are for the time being.’

  Archie smiled uncomfortably. ‘Yes, of course, sir.’

  ‘That’s the stuff, lad. You’ll make us all proud, I’m sure.’

  The Royal Navy dominated life at Hamberley. Alice had never really minded. She supposed she had become used to it because it was all she had known, but meeting Henry had been like a breath of fresh air to her. Everything about the dashing American was so different and so welcome. She thought about him all through the rest of the main course, treading around the general conversation so as not to be drawn in. It was the not knowing that kept Alice awake at night, and which caused her to cry out in those rare moments of sleep. How was Henry being treated? Was he still in Holland, or even still alive for that matter? She had no way of knowing. Plates of food came and went with the conversations that drifted over her, as unheeded as the tick-tock of the mantle clock, until one voice caught her attention. It was Oscar Scanlon, ruddy faced and almost shouting, as though he’d made too free with her father’s claret again—which Alice had seen him do most days since her arrival.

  ‘I heard a painting was attacked in London not so long ago. I was out of the country at t
he time and missed the details.’

  ‘I read about it,’ Saxby said, twisting the tip of his moustache. ‘It was by one of the Old Masters.’

  ‘Blasted suffragettes,’ Alice’s father added. ‘That confounded Richardson woman smuggled a hatchet into the National Gallery and tried to destroy one of Velázquez’s masterpieces. Quite what a three-hundred-year-old painting has to do with women’s suffrage is beyond me.’

  ‘It was the Rokeby Venus,’ Alice said casually, still thinking more about her husband than the conversation. ‘Mary Richardson told the press afterwards that she wanted to destroy the picture of the most beautiful woman in mythological history as a protest against the government for destroying Mrs Pankhurst, who, according to Richardson, is the most beautiful character in modern history.’

  Alice felt the room close in around her as she finished speaking. In the ensuing silence the clock on the mantle sounded louder than ever. ‘With all the rain, I’ve had plenty of time to go over old newspapers this week,’ she added, as though she felt the need to apologise for something, no doubt because of her father’s longstanding disagreement with her interest in politics and current affairs.

  Her father coughed loudly into his hand. ‘I’ve arranged to take my grandson into Chatham to see the dockyard tomorrow,’ he said, changing the subject. ‘Chester is old enough to appreciate a proper visit now, and there’s something I want to show him. It will be good education for him.’ He paused and began to pull at his beard. ‘Just the two of us, you understand? I’m sure it would be of no interest to you.’

  ‘Of course,’ Alice said, knowing that it was unlikely to be of any interest to her at all. ‘I’m sure Chester would like that very much.’

  Saxby leaned in. ‘We were sorry to hear about Henry,’ he said, glancing at his wife and confirming to Alice that her father must have told everyone the story of how she and the children came to be there at Hamberley without him. A part of her was thankful because it would save her the discomfort of repeating the lie, and it would lessen the chances of her tripping herself up in the process.

  ‘It’s a shame for the children, isn’t it?’ Mrs Saxby added, and the other women around the table nodded their agreement.

  Mention of Henry’s name made Alice think of him more than ever, and she wondered how much longer it would be before she was contacted again. She was eager now for that to happen. All she wanted was to get through this and go back to normal life again; to get Henry back and remove the threat that hung over her children’s head like the Grim Reaper’s scythe.

  Her father drained his wine glass and leaned towards Saxby. ‘Personally, I think there’s more to it,’ he said under his breath, clearly hoping that Alice wouldn’t hear him, but she did. She wanted to say so many things in response to the remark, but instead she just stared at the individual chocolate soufflé in front of her, which she had barely touched.

  ‘Had your first proper row, have you?’ her father continued, directly to Alice now. ‘I always said—’

  Alice’s mother cut him short. ‘Charles, not now. Please.’ To Alice she added, ‘I’m sorry, dear.’

  That Alice knew Henry could never live up to her father’s expectations was not news to her. She had no doubt this was why her bedroom was kept ready for her, just as she had left it, in the hope that she would fall out with Henry and return home again. Henry was new money and an American, and such a match would never do for her father. She silently wished the meal would end so she could return to her room, but her father would not be silenced on the matter.

  ‘Well, what sort of husband lets his wife and children travel by themselves anyway? Our daughter and our grandchildren!’ he added. ‘And I don’t know why you insist on bringing them up all by yourself. Every respectable mother has at least one nanny.’

  Alice would have made her excuses and left the room there and then had Archie not spoken.

  ‘Tell me, Lord Abridge, do you see Germany building many new Dreadnoughts this year? Or in your opinion is that now a one-horse race?’

  Abridge scoffed. ‘After conceding three such ships to our seven last year,’ he said. ‘I should think we’ve got the Germans entirely demoralised.’

  ‘And we have the jump on them again this year,’ Alice’s father added. ‘I’d say the race was as good as won.’

  Both men began to laugh, and as they continued the conversation between themselves, Archie edged closer to Alice and whispered, ‘Get a pair of old sea dogs talking about the naval arms race, and they won’t talk about anything else for hours. Would you care for some fresh air before leaving us to our port and cigars?’

  Alice sighed and returned his smile. ‘Yes, I’d like that very much.’

  ‘Good. I could do with a stretch.’

  They both stood up together, momentarily pausing the conversation.

  ‘Would you excuse us?’ Archie said, addressing the room. ‘Alice has kindly agreed to accompany me on the terrace for a few minutes before taking her coffee in the drawing room with the rest of you fine ladies. I’m afraid that last glass of wine has left me feeling in need of some air.’

  ‘Of course, Archie,’ Alice’s father said. ‘And I’m sure you two have plenty to catch up on while you’re out there, eh?’

  Alice caught the wink her father gave Archie, who just smiled politely as they turned and left the room.

  As soon as they were outside, Alice threw her head to the stars and breathed as though it were the first breath she had taken all evening. She thought it was cold for the time of year, but she didn’t mind.

  ‘Thank you, Archie.’

  ‘Not at all,’ Archie said. ‘It was the least I could do for an old friend.’ He threw her a smile, accentuating his dimples. ‘The truth is that I couldn’t bear to see your father torture you like that. I’m sure he didn’t mean to.’

  ‘Oh, I’m sure he did.’

  ‘Well, perhaps it was the wine. It’s changed many a good man and left him aching with regret afterwards. Cigarette? Or haven’t you started smoking yet?’

  ‘No, I did try it once, but it just made me cough.’

  They were laughing at the idea as they walked to the low balustrade that bordered the terrace, where shrubs that were black against the moonlight framed wide stone steps that led down to the lawns and the countryside beyond. Alice felt suddenly dizzy. She sat on the stonework, unsure whether it was from her lack of sleep and general state of mind or the sudden intake of all that fresh air.

  ‘Are you well?’ Archie asked, concern in his voice.

  Alice took a slow and purposeful breath. ‘I’m sure I’ll be fine in a moment or two. Are you still living in Gillingham?’

  Archie nodded. ‘Same old place, except I’ve had a small part of the house to myself since Ernest left.’

  ‘Your brother moved out?’

  ‘Yes, he married the year before last—child on the way. He lives in Sittingbourne now.’

  ‘You didn’t have too far to travel then. How did you get here this evening?’

  ‘I have my own motorcar now,’ Archie said with pride. ‘It’s a Vauxhall C10—the four-litre model. I must say she’s rather sporty with it, too. I only got her last year.’

  Alice smiled playfully. ‘Four litres,’ she mimicked, as though she knew what that meant. ‘You must be moving up in the world.’

  Archie snorted. ‘I don’t know about that, but it certainly makes getting up to Town more agreeable. I’ll introduce you to her before I head home. Maybe I can take you for a spin sometime?’

  ‘I’d like that.’

  Archie sat beside Alice. ‘Look, I must apologise to you. I’ve been waiting a long time for the opportunity, and many’s the day I’ve thought I might never have another chance. I’m sure I’d given up all hope of ever seeing you again when you left Hamberley—all my fault of course.’

  ‘You’re not
the one who went off to live in America,’ Alice said.

  ‘No, but I shouldn’t have left so soon after the wedding. It was rude of me and entirely unforgivable not to call on you and Henry afterwards. I just—’ Archie stopped himself and turned away, looking back to the house with its tall windows glowing like sheets of silver in the moonlight.

  Alice put her hand on the back of his. ‘You have nothing to apologise for. If any apology is necessary between us, it should come from me, for keeping my feelings for Henry such a secret from you. It all happened so fast, despite my father. One moment Henry and I were smiling at each other across a busy restaurant, and the next we were married. At least, that’s how it seems to me now. That first year passed so quickly, and then Chester was born. Our second year together went by even faster.’

  Alice was about to ask Archie why he hadn’t called to see them, but she realised she already knew the answer. She had always known. Her mother had said that it was the Royal Navy that had kept him away, but she knew it was really because he didn’t want to see her with Henry, which she supposed was the reason he had left their wedding so soon after the ceremony. She was in no doubt that Archie had stayed away because he couldn’t come to terms with their marriage and the fact that the woman who had been promised to him, albeit without her consent, now belonged to another man. It wasn’t that Alice didn’t love Archie, but their parents had done such a good job of bringing them together at so early an age that by the time she was old enough to consider marriage, she had come to love him more as a brother. She wondered if he still felt the same way about her and decided it was best to talk about something else.

  ‘You must call again and meet the children,’ she said, realising as soon as she had spoken that that too might be difficult for Archie.

  To contradict her thoughts, Archie’s face lit up. ‘I’d like that very much,’ he said, and Alice felt at ease again.

  She showed him her picture locket, unclipping it and holding it up as he leaned closer to her. On the side that was not concealed by her fingers, it showed a small portrait of Chester and Charlotte, side by side, holding hands.