The Beekeeper's Daughter A Novel

by Santa Montefiore

  Grace shook her head. ‘No, I haven’t heard anything.’

  Big smiled. ‘I hate to take pleasure in the misfortunes of others, but Evelyn’s had it coming for some time.’

  ‘Oh?’ Grace raised her eyebrows expectantly.

  ‘Evelyn dragged Lucy away from the party in her nightdress at three in the morning.’

  Grace was astonished. ‘Really? In her nightdress?’

  ‘I kid you not. She went crazy. Lucy was canoodling with one of those boys and the place smelt strongly of marijuana. Poor Lucy, I doubt she’ll ever be let out again.’

  ‘But how do you know?’ Grace asked.

  Betty-Ann grinned guiltily. ‘My maid’s sister works for Joe Hornby and heard them all talking about it over breakfast this morning. She came scuttling round under some pretence and relayed the gossip.’

  ‘The Island grapevine is well and truly working, then,’ said Grace.

  ‘It’s never been in better shape,’ Betty-Ann laughed.

  ‘I presume your Trixie was tucked up in bed by then,’ said Big.

  ‘I hope so,’ Grace replied, biting her lip. ‘But I couldn’t guarantee it. I didn’t hear her come in.’

  ‘You must tell her. She’ll be highly amused,’ said Betty-Ann.

  ‘Oh, she’ll know already. The island must be buzzing with it,’ Big added, waving her bejewelled fingers dismissively.

  ‘Fancy going out in your nightdress. I wouldn’t be seen dead in mine,’ Grace laughed.

  ‘You can bet Evelyn’s is made of the finest silk and lace,’ said Big. ‘I’m only surprised she didn’t send that husband of hers in her place. I’m sure his pyjamas are just as exquisite.’

  ‘He’s as perfect as a shop dummy,’ interjected Betty-Ann scornfully. ‘And just as shallow. I’ve never liked the man, he’s much too pleased with himself. Just like his father was.’

  Big smiled in amusement. ‘What did you have for breakfast this morning, Betty-Ann? You’re on fire!’

  ‘Oh, nothing unusual. There’s just something about those two that gets my goat.’

  ‘That makes two of us,’ said Big.

  ‘Three of us,’ Grace added. Then in response to Big’s astonished look, she picked up a jar from her basket and added: ‘Perhaps it’s something in the honey!’

  Freddie worked hard all day making preparations for the harvest. There would be a wet harvest for berries used in juices and sauces, when they’d flood the bog so that the cranberries floated to the surface to be rounded up with brooms, and a dry harvest where the berries were hand-picked for the fresh fruit market. He threw himself into his job with enthusiasm, as he did every day, and forgot about Grace and the children. At the farm he was free of resentment. He liked who he was when he was there. At home he was aware of his shortcomings but unable to do anything about them. Grace was a constant reminder of his hurt, and the love he felt for her had been so heavily wrapped in self-defence that he was no longer sure if it still had a pulse. He didn’t like to think about it. It was better that he kept to his routine and didn’t raise all those old, unanswered questions. He had lost himself down the years and now it was too late to find himself again. He had created a bitter casing and imprisoned himself inside it. He might as well accept his life as it was, and himself as he had become.

  It was at work that he overheard a couple of the men discussing Joe Hornby and the band he was busy promoting. ‘You know there’s no money there,’ said one.

  ‘Yes, but apparently one of the kids is very rich.’

  ‘Well, that explains it, then.’

  ‘I wouldn’t put my money on old Joe, though. You know what he’s like.’ They both laughed.

  ‘A flake.’

  ‘Yes, or a lot of hot air as my mother used to say.’ More laughter.

  ‘That Jasper Duncliffe is a talented boy, though. Great vocals. He could go far, if it wasn’t for that idiot. Someone should tell him.’

  Freddie walked away, the blood rising to his temples. Jasper Duncliffe. Surely it must be another family? Duncliffe must be a very common name in England, he thought anxiously. He went into his office and closed the door. He wanted to telephone someone, but didn’t know who. He couldn’t share this with Grace. He couldn’t share it with anyone. He sat down and put his head in his hands. All the old feelings of jealousy, betrayal and hurt rose in a giant wave, invading the serenity of his workplace. Discipline, he told himself. Discipline. But the thought of his beloved daughter with a member of that family made him want to throw something against the wall.

  Trixie finished her shift at four. People liked to linger over their lunches. They enjoyed sunbathing all morning and eating later, which meant she found herself working five hours, sometimes more. She thought about Jasper as she worked. The anticipation of seeing him that evening gave her step an extra bounce and her good mood was infectious, making the other waitresses smile with her.

  She changed out of her uniform and put on a short, floral sundress that barely reached mid-thigh, and a pair of sandals. As she passed the bar, Jack put down the telephone.

  ‘Message for you, Trixie,’ said her boss. ‘Someone called Jasper needs to see you urgently.’

  Trixie frowned. ‘Really? Did he say anything else?’

  ‘No, but he sounded serious.’

  She felt uneasy. ‘OK. I’ll go now.’

  He smiled. ‘So he’s called Jasper, is he?’

  ‘He’s called Jasper, Jack. I think there must be something special about the initial J, don’t you?’

  ‘Off you go, Trixie. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.’

  ‘Leaves me more than I can handle!’ She laughed and left the restaurant, but as soon as she was on her way to Joe’s the uneasy feeling returned and she quickened her pace. It must be something important if Jasper had called Captain Jack’s. She hoped it wasn’t anything bad.

  As soon as she opened the door of Joe’s home her fears were confirmed. It was something bad. Joe was puffing his cigar, talking on the telephone in a loud voice, explaining that the band wouldn’t be playing. She could see through the glass to where the boys were huddled around a table on the lawn looking grave. She felt the blood drop to her feet.

  She strode outside and immediately registered Jasper’s ashen face. His eyes were red, his mouth set into a grimace as if his entire world had just imploded. When he saw her, he took a deep breath. ‘Trixie,’ he said.

  ‘What’s going on? What’s happened?’

  His face grew taut as he strained every nerve to control his emotion. ‘My brother’s been killed in a car crash. I have to go back to England. I . . .’ His voice trailed off and he took a drag of his cigarette with trembling fingers. The ashtray and empty beer bottles in the middle of the table revealed an afternoon of chain-smoking and drinking.

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ she cried, falling onto her knees and wrapping her arms around him.

  Embarrassed by her affection, he patted her then disentangled himself. ‘Life’s a bummer,’ he replied, and the leaden sound in his voice made her heart buckle.

  George got to his feet, put his hands behind his head and started to pace the lawn. ‘We’ll wait for you, mate,’ he said. ‘As long as it takes.’

  Jasper shot him a look that told him he was being ridiculous, but Trixie didn’t understand why. ‘I don’t know,’ he mumbled. Then he stood up angrily. ‘It was all going so well, and now this!’

  ‘How old was your brother?’ she asked.

  ‘Older than me, and that was the best thing about him,’ Jasper said harshly, then looked like he was going to burst into tears. ‘No, that’s unfair. I loved him. He was a good man. The best. Better than me, anyhow, and now I have to fill his shoes and I’m totally inadequate. In every way, I’m inadequate.’

  ‘So what will you do?’ she asked.

  ‘Go home.’

  ‘But you’ll come back?’

  He looked at her steadily. ‘Walk with me, Trixie. I need to get out of here.’

&nbs
p; Ben drained the beer bottle. ‘Take as long as you want. We’ll hang here. George, roll one, will you?’

  They set off up the beach. He took her hand. For a long while they walked in silence. Trixie had so many questions, but she didn’t want to press him until he was ready to talk. Finally he stopped and turned to face her. She could barely look into his eyes for the desolation there.

  ‘I love you, Trixie. I love you with all my heart.’ Jasper placed his hands on her shoulders. ‘I love you more now that I know I might lose you.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Her heart began to hop about like a frightened cricket.

  ‘I have to return to England and I might not come back.’ His words winded her and her eyes filled with tears. ‘Don’t look at me like that, my darling. I can’t take it,’ he groaned.

  ‘You can come back, surely? Why wouldn’t you?’

  ‘Because my destiny is no longer to be a rock star, but to run a great estate.’ He said it as if it wasn’t a great estate but a great curse.

  She screwed up her nose. ‘I don’t understand.’

  He smiled and traced her jawline with his thumbs. ‘Of course you don’t. How could you? You know nothing about me. My brother was . . .’

  ‘I’ll go with you,’ she interjected suddenly.

  It was his turn to look bewildered. ‘You mean that?’

  ‘Of course I do. If you want me to come with you, I will.’

  A look of relief momentarily swept the shadows away. ‘Are you serious? You’d give up everything for me?’

  ‘I’d follow you to the ends of the earth, Jasper. I know we’re meant to be together. I feel it.’

  ‘Then we must marry. I can’t expect you to come all the way to England without a promise of commitment.’

  Her spirit soared with happiness. ‘If you want me as your wife, I’ll marry you.’

  ‘I want you, full stop, Trixie.’ The shadow of doubt darkened his features once again. ‘But you’re so young. You want to work in fashion and travel the world. I couldn’t ask you to give all that up for me. You don’t know what sort of life awaits you in England. I’m not entirely sure you’d be suited to it. I’d hate to make you miserable. You’d only end up loathing me.’

  ‘What are you talking about, Jasper?’

  ‘Being my wife would mean you’d have to give up all your dreams. You wouldn’t be able to work in fashion and travel the world to attend the fashion shows. You’d be holding meetings to raise money for the church roof and throwing dinner parties for the High Sheriff and his wife. It’s a commitment I’m not sure you’d relish. I don’t think it would make you happy.’

  ‘I’ll be happy to be with you, wherever that may be.’

  He sighed and cast his gaze out to sea. He seemed to weigh up the possibilities. ‘OK, here’s the plan,’ he said, turning back to her. ‘I’ll go home and attend my brother’s funeral. Then, when I’ve sorted everything out, I’ll send for you.’

  Trixie felt the world adjust into sharp focus. Her nerves tingled as she began to sense everything more intensely. This was drama at its most exciting. It was what one read about in novels but never actually lived. Now she was really living. She always knew she was too big for a small island like Tekanasset. ‘I’ll wait for you, then,’ she replied.

  He bent down and kissed her passionately. ‘My career might be in shreds but I still have you, Trixie.’

  ‘You’ll always have me, Jasper. I’ll wait as long as it takes.’

  Chapter 9

  Grace was putting the pastry on top of an apple pie when Freddie arrived home. She heard the screen door bang and his familiar footsteps in the hall as he put his briefcase on the floor, hung up his jacket and patted the dogs, who rushed in to greet him. She could sense his anger and her heart contracted. She had grown used to his distance, and her memories and the gardens compensated for that, but his anger hurt her every time anew.

  She dipped the brush in the melted butter and glazed the top of the pie, anticipating his entrance at any moment and preparing herself for whatever it was that was upsetting him. She heard him go into his study and the clinking of the decanter told her he was pouring himself a whiskey. A moment later she heard the light tapping of dog paws on the wooden floorboards in the hall and Freddie strode in.

  She could tell from his face that he was hurt more than angry and she couldn’t imagine what had caused it. ‘What’s happened, Freddie? Are you all right?’

  He walked through the kitchen and out onto the veranda where he put a hand on his hip and gazed out to sea. Grace took off her apron and followed him. ‘It’s Trixie,’ he said at last, without looking at his wife.

  ‘What about her?’

  ‘It’s this young man she’s seeing. I don’t like it at all.’

  Grace’s anxiety lifted. ‘You have to let her go, darling,’ she said. ‘She’s nineteen.’

  ‘I don’t like the boy.’

  ‘Have you met him?’

  He shook his head and took a swig of whiskey. ‘I don’t like the sound of him.’

  She sighed, a little impatiently. ‘Then you must meet him and judge him from having met him rather than what you hear about him.’

  ‘We come all the way out to America, thinking we’ve left England behind, and it finds us, all the way across the Atlantic. Can you believe it?’

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘This Jasper . . .’

  ‘Yes?’

  He took another swig. ‘I’m not sure. I could be wrong. After all . . .’ They both heard the front door open and the rattling of the screen door banging shut. He glanced fearfully at his wife.

  ‘After all, what?’ she whispered. But it was too late. Trixie was marching through the kitchen, her jaw set into a determined scowl.

  ‘I need to talk to you both,’ she said, joining them on the veranda. Grace suddenly felt weak in her legs and sat down on the swing chair. She noticed her daughter’s white face and the purple shadows beneath her eyes that betrayed tears shed and wiped away. ‘Jasper is going to England and he won’t be coming back,’ she announced dramatically. Grace and Freddie were both taken aback. Having imagined endless possibilities, Jasper leaving Tekanasset was the only one they hadn’t thought of. Grace felt the impulse to reach out and embrace her daughter. But there was something about Trixie’s determined jaw that told her there was more and that she wasn’t going to like it. She remained in her seat and braced herself for what was to come.

  ‘I’m going with him,’ Trixie declared. ‘He’s asked me to marry him.’

  Freddie’s face flushed such a deep crimson Grace thought he was about to suffer a seizure. ‘You’re not marrying him, Trixie,’ he said, and his voice was as hard as granite.

  ‘Wait a minute, everybody. You’re both one step ahead of me,’ said Grace, struggling to keep calm. ‘Darling, why is he going back to England? I thought he wanted to be a rock star.’

  ‘His brother has died,’ Trixie replied.

  ‘Oh, I’m so sorry,’ said Grace. ‘How terrible. How did he die?’

  ‘In a car crash.’

  Freddie drained his glass and turned to his daughter. The way he looked at her made Grace’s heart freeze over. ‘Tell me, why can’t he come back?’

  ‘Because he has to run his estate, apparently.’

  Freddie nodded slowly. ‘Because he has to run his estate.’ He glanced at Grace, almost accusingly. ‘What’s his full name, Beatrix?’

  ‘Jasper Duncliffe,’ Trixie replied. Now she was beginning to feel uneasy. ‘Why? Do you know him?’

  Grace felt the ground spinning away from her. Jasper Duncliffe. Her mind began to race as the blood shot to her temples, where it pounded painfully against her skull. If he was who she thought he was, then the brother who died would be his elder brother, which was why the responsibility now lay with him to run the estate. If he had to run the estate that would mean his father was also dead. She took a sharp breath as if her own heart had been stabbed. Her hand
shot to her chest. Not necessarily. Not necessarily, she thought, searching desperately for another possibility. She stood up. ‘I’ll be back in a moment,’ she gasped, hurrying into the kitchen.

  She leaned against the counter and stifled a sob. She could see Freddie and Trixie talking on the veranda. She had to remain calm. There was no way that after all these years she was going to let down her defences and give in to the pain. She opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle of wine. With a trembling hand she reached into the cabinet for a glass and poured it unsteadily. She took a large swig. Her neck felt sore from straining against the incoming tide of emotion that threatened to break through the barriers that had remained steadfast and strong for nearly thirty years, and her head was now throbbing. She wanted to run to her bed and cry beneath the covers, but she couldn’t. She had to return and continue the conversation as if this had nothing to do with her own broken heart, with her own grief, with her own past.

  She took three deep breaths and wiped the sweat off her brow with the tea towel. Then she lifted her chin and walked outside. ‘He will send for me,’ Trixie was saying, and her voice was thin as if she, too, was struggling against her own tide of emotions.

  ‘Beatrix, you know nothing about what it means to marry a man like Jasper. He’ll return to England and once the funeral is over and reality dawns, he’ll realize that he can’t marry a flighty young girl like you. A man like Jasper will put duty before his own desires.’

  Grace sat on the swing chair again, but this time her body was stiff, as if it belonged to someone far stronger than she. ‘Your father is right,’ she said. Freddie wasn’t expecting the support of his wife. Neither was Trixie, who began to cry. ‘He will put duty before his own desires and marry one of his own kind. That’s what men like him do. They put family first. If he inherits a great estate he will take his responsibility very seriously.’

  ‘I don’t understand you British,’ Trixie snapped. ‘You’re not human.’

  ‘We’re only trying to prevent you from being hurt, you foolish girl,’ Freddie growled.

  ‘Because we love you,’ said Grace and her eyes began to well with tears at the mention of the word love.