Ian St James Compendium - Volume 1

by Ian St. James

  Uncle Mark says it is two and a half years since we last saw you. It doesn't seem that long because so much has happened and anyway your photographs are everywhere all the time - I can't turn round without seeing you. I said that to Uncle Mark but he said that's not the same, but with you sending photographs every six months at least we all know what you look like. Oh, and another thing about that Madman de Valera. When he heard American soldiers were coming here he made a big speech in protest. He said he didn't care if the troops were British or American, the north still belongs to him. Uncle Mark went red in the face about that and said it would serve the south right if we let Hitler bomb Dublin into 'THE BLOODY BOG'. Averdales have been here since 1670 he said, 'not LIKE THAT BLOODY DAGO DE VALERA WHOSE FATHER WAS A MEXICAN BANDIT!' I put that last bit in for Uncle Ned. I bet not many people know that the Madman's father was a Mexican bandit. I thought as Mexico is near you that Uncle Ned might like to put it in his paper.

  I expect you think Uncle Mark swears a lot, and I suppose I shouldn't tell you these things. The trouble is I don't know any things that would interest a girl. I expect I will swear a lot too when I grow up and go in for business and politics. It's the strain I think. Uncle Mark says I will have to deal with English politicians and that lot will make me spit blood. I can swear a bit now but can only spit blood at the dentists or when I have a nose bleed.

  Uncle Mark says as soon as the war is over you will come home and live with us. Brackenburn is to be rebuilt and when we grow up you will be the Lady of the House, entertaining me and my business and political friends - at least I think that is what Uncle Mark means. He's a bit vague at times, but I know I’m to go into business and keep the Croppies down - and I know you will be the Grand Lady at the Big House because I heard someone say that he should marry again, and he snapped "Kate and I will reside at Brackenburn. If I didn't have that to look forward to I'd go mad!" So you see, Uncle Mark's got our futures all mapped out. It cheers me up to know that. I can't wait for this war to end and to grow up, so that I can swear and spit blood and do exciting things. Must finish my homework now. Don't forget to send me those American comics with your next letter, they're much better than ours.

  Your loving brother,

  Timothy.

  Kate was thinking about the Johnstones when Tim's letter arrived. In fact she had done little else but think about them for three weeks, ever since they first met just after Christmas.

  Meeting the Johnstones had not worried her - they were just more people to be sent away singing her praises. After playing the role for nearly three years Kate was very well practised. Everyone who visited was impressed, and she still had the household eating out of her hand.

  It was a strain at times, trying to please so many people. Kate survived by operating a system of checks and balances - a hint of disapproval here, an extra reward there - but sometimes the system broke down. Especially with Rose Smith. Pleasing Rose had become increasingly strange. Their game had grown more complicated, Rose had become more demanding. Bath time in particular had turned into a ritual for which Rose wore a fluffy towelling robe with nothing on underneath. If Kate refused to play, Rose became very angry - "You're an ungrateful child. Why should I look after you? I'll leave, then see what your precious Aunt Eleanor does. She'll send you away to an orphanage."

  That was a terrifying threat. The checks and balances had broken down. Kate mended them, she dared not do otherwise, even though bath times became an ordeal from which Kate saw no escape.

  Which is how things were, when Kate met the Johnstones.

  Linc Johnstone had been born in Dayton, Ohio, and had known Eleanor since his boyhood. He had worked on the Independent before joining the State Department - where natural charm had made him as at home in politics as a fish is in water. Washington liked Linc from the minute it set eyes on him. His career had blossomed and he had stayed there, returning to Dayton for only an occasional visit. Which is what he was doing during that Christmas of 1941. Together with his wife and daughter, he was spending a month with his mother, who had a house on Hurlingham Drive. The rumour was that Linc was about to be transferred to the American Embassy in London - and the rumour was true.

  He was a man who listened with a flattering intensity. Ned Bleakley said it was like talking to a magnet. "He fastens on and sucks your words in. Then he changes a few and ten minutes later you're agreeing with him. He never really argues - a man could die waiting to get an argument out of Linc. I like him."

  People liked his wife too. Alison was a good wife to Linc and a devoted mother to Jennifer. In short, the Johnstones presented a fine image to the world. Linc was sandy haired, barrel chested, strong and reliable Alison was gracefully slim, with fair hair and blue eyes. They were younger than Ned and Eleanor, but worldly wise by comparison - fish who swam in the mainstream of Washington, not the backwaters of Dayton, Ohio.

  Alison's one fault - if it was a fault - was that she was not only ambitious for her husband, but for her daughter as well. Few people realised how patchy Alison's own education had been. It was a matter which worried her. She was determined that Jennifer would enjoy better advantages. Jennifer would go to "a good school in England." Linc had agreed to that before they had married - boy or girl (they had settled on only one child because of the expense), the child would go to "a good school in England."

  Of course that was before war broke out in England. Alison had not reckoned on that. Consequently in 1941 Jennifer was at an international school in Washington, much favoured by diplomats, but very second best as far as Alison was concerned.

  None of this was known to Kate when she first met the Johnstones - she knew only that they were old friends of the Bleakley's. Kate set out to impress in the same way as she tried to impress all visitors to 920, Hurlingham Drive.

  Pleasing Mr Johnstone was easy. He complimented her on her looks, and her playing of the piano, and her fine British accent. He smiled a lot and said he hoped that Kate might become friends with his daughter "You're exactly the same age," he said, "I'm sure you have a million things in common."

  "They must have," Aunt Eleanor agreed. "Why not bring her with you tomorrow."

  Pleasing Mrs Johnstone was more of a challenge. Kate sensed that Mrs Johnstone was not easily taken in by appearances. Kate asked polite questions about Washington and President Roosevelt, and hoped that she was making a good impression.

  And she was. Alison was very impressed, and only partly because of her natural fondness for all children. (Linc said she preferred children to adults, and sometimes she had to agree with him.) What also struck Alison was that Kate would make an ideal companion for Jennifer. Not only that, after the war Kate would surely go to a good school in England - perhaps, if the girls became friends, they could go together? The more Alison probed, the more impressed she became. Kate's guardian was Lord Averdale, with homes in London and Ulster. He was obviously rich and important. Kate might even inherit a fortune. What a wonderful chance for Jennifer. A friendship made now could change the course of her life ...

  Talking to Mrs Johnstone for so long was causing problems for Kate. When Aunt Eleanor entertained, Kate usually joined the party for tea. Then, after playing a piece on the piano, she made her excuses and left. She rarely stayed as long as an hour. Aunt Eleanor liked to show her off, but Aunt Eleanor liked having Uncle Ned and her friends to herself. Kate had long since known that.

  She did try to escape, especially when she saw Aunt Eleanor looking at the clock - the problem was Mrs Johnstone kept asking more questions, and Kate, eager to please, had to answer - but she had been in the drawing room for nearly two hours.

  As the maid left with the tea things, Kate saw her chance. Rose Smith was in the hall. In her panic to escape, Kate said the first thing that entered her head. "Excuse me, Mrs Johnstone, I think my bath is ready now."

  It was enough. Rose tapped on the door and came in.

  Aunt Eleanor's face lit up. "Ah Rose, there you are. Kate's bath must be read
y."

  How could Aunt Eleanor realise the significance of the word bath or Rose understand that Kate was simply trying to escape from Mrs Johnstone?

  Certainly Rose understood nothing. "Yes Ma'am," she said, "the bath is ready."

  And she looked straight at Kate.

  Alison stifled a gasp. She stared at the nurse, not believing what she saw. In her thirty-five years she had seen that look only once - after a party in her first year of marriage. She had worn a low cut dress which had drawn admiring glances from every man there, especially a naval officer with whom she had flirted shamelessly. Linc had become wildly jealous, as she had intended, although the consequences were unforeseen. Back in their apartment he had kissed her with bruising savagery - and undressed her and damn near raped her - and the look on his face had stayed in her mind ever since. That look. Naked lust. The look which had flashed across Rose Smith's face.

  Alison felt shocked and then sick. Vaguely she said goodbye to Kate, adding that she would bring Jennifer tomorrow.

  It seemed unbelievable that nobody else realised what was going on. When Alison looked at Eleanor all she got was a warm smile. Ned and Linc were already discussing the war.

  Alison was so shaken that she could hardly think. She knew what she had seen. It took her ten minutes to recover enough to make an inoffensive remark, managing to express surprise that a girl of ten still had a nurse.

  Eleanor sighed. "Well nobody thought the war would last so long. Lord Averdale sent Rose Smith over with Kate and told her to stay. She makes herself useful, and of course she's devoted to Kate."

  And how, Alison thought.

  She said nothing to Linc when they drove back to his mother's house. What was the point? He wouldn't understand the subtleties of the situation, he might not even believe her. Even so, Alison was quite sure of what she had seen. She had heard stories of other nannies. The relationship between nurse and child sometimes became twisted, especially when parental contact was minimal. Poor Kate was an orphan. Parental contact was non-existent. And neither Ned nor Eleanor knew the first thing about the complex emotions of a child ... or the warped mind of a sexual pervert.

  Alison was frightened and appalled. Kate might be sexually misdirected for the rest of her life. If so she was beyond Alison's reach. Certainly Jennifer must never be let near her. But perhaps the child saw it only as an extra cuddle at bedtime, or a kiss in the bath, or maybe felt a schoolgirl crush generated by a need for affection - if that were all, Alison thought she might cope.

  Her motives became muddled. She had been guided by ambition for Jennifer, until in bed that night she experienced such a repugnance for Rose Smith that she flushed hot and cold with anger. Being a nurse was a sacred trust, especially when children were involved. By morning she knew she must do something. She couldn't leave a child in a situation like that - any child, let alone a girl the same age as her daughter.

  To cap everything, Washington telephoned at breakfast and Linc was instructed to fly to New York that night, next stop London. Alison could have screamed. Linc was not due to go for a month. It was so unfair.

  Parting would have been a jolt anyway, now, so suddenly, when she needed his advice ...

  Linc telephoned the Bleakley's to say they would not be calling after all.

  Eleanor came on the line. "Why not send your daughter round anyway? It would give you and Alison a couple of hours to yourselves."

  She snatched the phone, "Eleanor. That's sweet of you, but it's best for the family to be together. I'll call you tomorrow, okay?"

  Linc looked surprised and disappointed.

  She guessed why. They would be parted for almost a year. "We can still go to bed," she said, "Jennifer can stay downstairs with Grandma for an hour. It's just that I don't want her at the Bleakley's without me."

  Their afternoon lovemaking was dispirited. Sex seemed a poor proposition to her. It was like eating for the sake of it. Did he think she would forget how to do it? But he expected it, and she loved him, so she tried. She faked a climax and stroked his head on her breast for a long time afterwards.

  Then, and she knew it was the wrong thing to do, she knew her timing was bad, but she couldn't help herself... she told him about Rose Smith.

  Of course he didn't believe her.

  "Honey, it's your imagination. I was there too, remember? I didn't see any such thing -"

  "But what if I'm right -"

  "You can't be right!"

  "Suppose I am -"

  "It's none of our business -"

  "Lincoln! I'm talking about a child the same age as our daughter -"

  "We can't interfere -"

  "Interfere? My God, how can you say such a thing?"

  "Alison; you can't be sure. You're over-reacting."

  They were having a row. She could hardly believe it. He was going away in a few hours, and would be gone for a whole year. Germans were bombing hell out of London ... he might be injured, even killed ... and here they were having a blazing row about a child she didn't even know existed until yesterday.

  "Alison, honey, will you remember one thing. Ned Bleakley is influential in this town. His opinions are -"

  "Rubbish when it comes to children. He doesn't know the first thing."

  She was crying and despising her tears. He was as soft about kids as she was really, she knew that, he just had to be convinced. They embraced and kissed and tried to put an end to their quarrel. "You be very careful," he whispered, as his last word.

  She kissed him hard then, "And you be careful in London. I really do adore you, Linc Johnstone."

  They dressed and went downstairs to join Jennifer and Linc's mother. He carried his cases into the hall, pretending that he and Alison had spent the last hour and a half packing.

  Minutes after that his car arrived from Patterson's Field, and he was kissing the whole family goodbye.

  Alison went to bed early and wept, calling herself a bitch for spoiling his last afternoon with an argument. Yet when she fell asleep it was not to a tender dream of reconciliation, but to a nightmare about Rose Smith.

  She telephoned Eleanor Bleakley the next morning: "Jennifer's down in the dumps about Linc going away. I thought I'd take her out to lunch as a treat. It would be such a help if Kate could come. I could pick her up at about twelve ..."

  She took them to the Country Club where they bumped into the golf pro. "Morning Mrs Johnstone," he smiled warmly. "Are these two young ladies new pupils for me?"

  The small joke became important later.

  Over the meal, Alison watched the two girls getting to know each other. She breathed a small sigh of relief. Her hunch had been right. Jennifer had been bored with Dayton, and Kate had never had a friend of her own age - both girls were delighted with each other. Even so, Alison felt a pang. Jennifer's pale straw-coloured hair and hear shaped face were usually admired, but her quiet good looks faded next to Kate. Alison reminded herself that most things in life are paid for, and if her suspicions were correct Kate's striking beauty had already brought her a good deal of suffering.

  Lunch was an enormous success, and for the next seven days the girls spent a good deal of time together. Alison took them to the cinema, and on outings, and back to the country club - where she remembered the golf professional. "Would you like golf lessons?" she asked. "After all, you'll want to play in a few years and it's best to start these things early."

  Jennifer's eyes rounded. Girls at her school did not start golf until they were thirteen. To start before would be very grown up.

  Of course they had to consult Aunt Eleanor, and to comply with Madame Lefarge's timetable of lessons each morning, but everything conspired to throw the two girls together. Jennifer joined Madame Lefarge's morning classes, and every day after lunch Alison took the girls to the country club for their golf tuition.

  Throughout it all, Alison watched Kate like a hawk.

  She even questioned Jennifer.

  She was charmed, but not fooled. She saw through
many of Kate's stratagems to get her own way. She watched Kate manipulate people at Hurlingham Drive. She even, to a small extent, fathomed Kate's system of checks and balances. Alison was undismayed. She felt she was getting to understand the child. The girl had been alone for half of her life - without parents, separated from her brother, cut-off from her grandparents, parted from her guardian. In a sense she had suffered one shipwreck after another. And Hurlingham Drive was hardly a safe haven. Neither Ned nor Eleanor was what Alison called "children people", and the rest of the household followed suit, with the single exception of Rose Smith. Alison shuddered. Kate had been fighting to survive.

  Three further weeks of observation revealed Kate to be a healthy girl who showed no signs of wanting to indulge in unnatural practices. Alison breathed a heartfelt sigh of relief. Even so, she was worried about being able to keep an eye on the girl for much longer. Jennifer was due to restart school in Washington early in February. It was almost time to leave Dayton and return to the capital.

  Which was what Alison was concerned about before the afternoon of 2 February, when everything changed.

  Alison and the girls had just returned to the Bleakley's from the country club, where the girls had exhausted themselves with an extra session on the driving range.

  "I ache all over," Jennifer groaned happily. "I'm going straight back to Grandma Johnstones to soak in the tub."

  Alison smiled at the pair of them, both flushed and weary and pleased with themselves. It was the way she liked to see them. "Come on then," she said, rising from her chair. "There's no point in me getting comfortable."

  Eleanor and Kate came out to the hall with them, Kate limping dramatically and everyone giggling. Alison felt tremendously pleased, Kate was behaving as a child should, perfectly relaxed and enjoying herself. And Alison was awarding herself some credit for that, when Rose Smith came out of the kitchen door. "Oh Rose," Eleanor said. "Run a bath for our poor tired athlete, will you. She's overdone it today."