by Lily Baxter
‘Mary Fitzpatrick. She was just a maid.’
‘Mary, of course. I can see the likeness now. She was a very pretty girl and lively too. She was always smiling, as I recall.’ His smile faded and he frowned as if another and less happy memory had clouded his vision. ‘Well, I must be getting on, my dear. It was nice to meet you, Poppy.’
‘Wait.’ Poppy reached out to catch hold of his sleeve. ‘There’s something you’re not telling me.’
‘It’s nothing. Just a bit of gossip that went round at the time. I’d forgotten all about it until now.’
‘Won’t you tell me? I think I might know already, but I need to be sure.’
‘It was a long time ago and so I suppose I’m not breaking any confidences.’ He smiled gently. ‘I was fond of Harry and it was obvious to anyone who knew him that he was very much in love with Mary and she with him. It was common knowledge in the town as they’d been seen together on numerous occasions, walking arm in arm, oblivious to the world around them.’
‘Why was that so wrong?’
‘Things were different years ago. Sir Hereward had plans for his son that did not include his falling in love with a girl from a less privileged background.’
‘But Harry loved my mother.’
‘I think pressure was brought to bear on poor Mary. She left Beecham House quite suddenly. Harry was sent to Sandhurst and entered the army as a commissioned officer. As far as I know he never married.’
‘Thank you, vicar. You’ve been very helpful.’
‘Mary was happy though? I wouldn’t like to think of her living a life of regret.’
Poppy nodded her head. ‘I think she was content, although I can’t be sure now. She was a good mother and I miss her every day.’
‘Goodbye, Poppy, and good luck, my dear.’ Raymond Hayes mounted his bike and pedalled off towards the centre of town, wobbling from side to side.
Poppy went into the station to wait for her train. As she stood on the platform she tried to picture her mother when she was young, before worry and hard work had worn her to a shadow of her former self. The plump, motherly woman in her saggy skirt and ill-fitting hand-knitted cardigan did not fit with the description of a pretty young thing full of life and laughter. She must have loved Harry very much to have given herself to him body and soul even though she was a married woman. What had she felt when she discovered that she was pregnant by him?
The train rumbled into the station. Carriage doors opened and passengers stepped out onto the platform. Poppy found a window seat in an empty carriage and settled down to mull over what she had learned from the vicar. The train pulled out of the station and she was on her way back to the metropolis, away from the place where her mother had lived, loved and lost. She stared out of the carriage window at green fields, hedgerows and farmland flashing past but it was just a blur. She would never know what had been in her mother’s heart, but at least she had found out a little about Harry Beecham.
‘My real dad’s an army officer, Mabel,’ Poppy said in a low voice as they washed up in the tiny kitchen that evening after supper. She had been longing to talk about it ever since she arrived home, but it was almost impossible to get Mabel on her own. She seized her chance safe in the knowledge that neither Mrs Tanner nor her sisters would offer to help with the chores, although Auntie Dottie had been known to listen at keyholes if she thought there was anything interesting going on.
‘And you saw the ruins of the big house?’ Mabel stopped swishing the block of hard green soap around in the water in an attempt to make lather. She glanced at Poppy with shining eyes. ‘How exciting. Was it a grand house before the fire?’
‘I don’t know, but the vicar said it was very old, so I suppose it must have been pretty imposing. Anyway, I’m not interested in the house, but I would like to find out more about Harry. I wish I’d thought to ask what regiment he was in.’
Mabel smiled triumphantly. ‘I think I can answer that one. Joe told me ages ago that his dad was in the London Rifle Brigade. He was batman to a Colonel Gerald Beecham and that’s how he came to meet Mary. Colonel Beecham was Sir Hereward’s brother and he was staying at the house. It’s just possible that Harry joined his uncle’s regiment after the affair was discovered and Mary was given the push.’
‘It’s something to go on,’ Poppy said thoughtfully. ‘But I don’t suppose it will be easy to find any information about Harry until this wretched war is over. I’d probably be arrested as a spy and end up in the Tower if I started making enquiries.’
Mabel flicked suds at her, giggling. ‘Don’t do that, love. I’d be left all alone with the awful aunts and Uncle Fred. If he pinches my bum once again I’m telling Auntie Ida and hang the consequences.’
‘He’s caught me once or twice,’ Poppy acknowledged, grinning. ‘He pretends to be a respectable businessman but I’ll bet he chases his secretary round the office, and he’s probably got a couple of mistresses tucked away in seedy bedsits in Plaistow. I’d love to tell his clients what he’s really like.’
‘He’s my problem, not yours.’ Mabel pulled the plug out of the sink. ‘Anyway, you’ve got two posh aunts of your own now if what the vicar said was true. You’ve got rich relations, Poppy girl.’
‘Maybe, but they wouldn’t be interested in me. I’d be one of those blot things on their escutcheon, or whatever you call it.’
‘I dunno what that is but it sounds painful. You talk like you’ve swallowed the dictionary these days, Poppy, but I suppose that’s what a fancy education does for you.’ Mabel wiped round the sink with the dishcloth. ‘You’re too grand for the likes of us. I’m not being funny, ducks, but you was always a bit different even before you was evacuated. Now I know why.’
Poppy had no answer for that. It was no good arguing with Mabel. Once she had formed an opinion she was unlikely to change her mind. Poppy was putting the clean plates away in the cupboard when the doorbell rang.
‘Who can that be at this time in the evening?’ Mabel said, glancing at the wall clock. ‘It’s almost nine thirty.’
‘If it’s Dennis, I don’t want to see him.’
Wiping her hands on her apron, Mabel shook her head. ‘Don’t worry, I won’t let him in. I’ll say you’re on night duty or something.’ She hurried out of the kitchen closing the door behind her.
Poppy waited, holding her breath. After the emotional and physical journey she had experienced during the day she could not bring herself to face Dennis. She could hear Mabel’s feet pattering over the linoleum in the hallway and the door opened.
‘There’s someone to see you, Poppy.’
‘It’s not Dennis, is it?’
Mabel shook her head. ‘No, it’s a chauffeur. He says the lady in the car wants to speak to you on a matter of importance. That’s his words not mine. He says it won’t wait.’
Chapter Sixteen
EVEN IN THE twilight, Poppy could see that it was the Pallisters’ limousine parked at the kerbside. Hector’s chauffeur was standing by the rear door, holding it open.
Pamela’s pale face stared at her through the window as Poppy hurried down the path. She climbed into the car. ‘Mrs Pallister, you’re the last person I expected to see here.’
‘I must speak to you urgently.’ Pamela dismissed Harper with a wave of her hand.
‘Is there something wrong?’ It was a rhetorical question as Poppy could see by Pamela’s fraught expression that she was not the bearer of good news. ‘It’s not Guy, is it?’
‘Guy?’ Pamela’s full lips formed a small circle of surprise. ‘Why would it be anything to do with him?’
‘I don’t know, I just thought …’
‘Just listen to what I have to say, Poppy. I haven’t time to play games. It’s a long drive down to Squire’s Knapp and I have to return this evening.’ She gazed out of the window, gazing abstractedly at the chauffeur’s back as he leaned against the bonnet, lighting a cigarette. ‘I’m not supposed to be using Hector’s petrol coupons for private b
usiness but this is a matter of life and death. Daddy’s car was in an accident during the blackout last night.’
Poppy laid her hand on Pamela’s arm. ‘I’m so sorry. Is he …’
‘It’s touch and go. He was on his way home from the court and I suppose he was in a hurry to get back to Mummy.’ Pamela’s voice broke on a sob. ‘You don’t know, of course, but Mummy collapsed at one of her meetings a week ago and was rushed to hospital.’
Poppy found it almost impossible to imagine Marina Carroll laid low by anything other than a severe blow to the head, but it was obvious that Pamela was genuinely upset. ‘She’s all right though?’
‘Not really. Apparently she’d suffered a massive stroke and now she’s paralysed down one side and can barely make us understand what she’s saying. She’s at home but she needs constant attention. We’ve hired a nurse but Mummy makes it obvious she loathes the woman and throws things at her. I’m at my wits’ end.’
‘I’m truly sorry, but without wishing to sound uncaring, what has this got to do with me?’
‘I wouldn’t blame you if you told me where to go, Poppy. I know we didn’t treat you terribly well, but I was hoping that you’d come back with me and look after Rupert. He’s running wild and I can’t do anything with him.’
‘But he’s such a sweet little boy.’
‘He was once, but he’s really naughty these days. We’ve gone through two nannies since you left and with most of the village girls either in the forces or doing war work, it’s almost impossible to find a reliable person who can cope with a lively four-year-old. Jean told me that you’re a trained nurse and I thought you might help me look after Mummy as well as Rupert.’
‘A probationer nurse,’ Poppy said quickly. ‘I’m not qualified yet, and I won’t be for another three years.’
‘Darling, that doesn’t matter a bit. I need a helping pair of hands and someone with commonsense who knows the household routine and won’t be upset by Mummy’s little tantrums.’
‘I’d like to help, I really would, but if I leave in the middle of my training I might never get another chance. What would I do when you no longer need me?’
Pamela grasped both her hands. ‘We need you now, Poppy. If Guy were here he’d beg you to come down to Squire’s Knapp and help out. If it’s money you’re worried about …’
‘No.’ The word escaped from Poppy’s lips in a sigh of despair. She wanted to tell Pamela Pallister to go to hell, but invisible cords were tugging at her heartstrings. She remembered the way that Rupert used to cuddle up to her in bed, and wake her up by jumping on her and tugging at her hair. The nursery should be filled with children, not one sad and lonely little boy who would grow up to carve his name on the wooden desk lid, just as Guy had done all those years ago. Guy would expect her to answer his sister’s genuine plea for help, and there was no doubting Pamela’s sincerity or her deep distress.
‘Please, Poppy,’ Pamela whispered. ‘We need you desperately. Apart from the land girls, there’s only Mrs Toon left out of all the servants. She copes splendidly with the help of a daily woman from the village, but we need someone living in the house whom we can all trust, and who understands Mummy’s little foibles. If you can’t bring yourself to do it for Mummy and me, please think of Rupert. He needs you terribly.’
Staring out of the window, Poppy was suddenly alert as she saw Dennis lumbering towards the car. Harper stood to attention as if ready to ward off an aggressor.
Dennis was a complication that she could well do without. She was fond of him and that was the trouble. With his ‘never take no for an answer’ attitude she was afraid that one day she would simply give in, and in a moment of weakness agree to marry him. She came to a sudden decision. ‘All right, Mrs Pallister. Give me a few days so that I can give some kind of notice at the hospital …’
Pamela shook her head. ‘No, Poppy. You must come with me now. I simply can’t cope, with Daddy at death’s door and everything.’ She fumbled in her handbag and brought out a scrap of lace that served as a hanky.
Not knowing what to say, Poppy gazed out of the window. Dennis had stopped and was speaking to the chauffeur. She could not hear what he was saying but she could tell from the set of his jaw that he was going to be difficult, and she knew that he would not let her leave without putting up a fight. The thought of a confrontation made her decision easier. ‘All right, I’ll come with you, but only if you write to the hospital explaining why I had to leave so suddenly.’
Pamela mopped her eyes leaving smudges of mascara on her cheeks. ‘Darling Poppy, you won’t regret this. I’ll get Hector to have it written on government headed writing paper to make it look official. We’ll be eternally grateful to you.’
‘Yes, well, I’d better go indoors and tell my sister-in-law. I’ll need to pack some things.’
‘Yes, of course, but please hurry.’ Pamela glanced up and recoiled as she saw Dennis peering at them through the window. ‘Who is that fearful oick?’
In any other circumstances Poppy might have laughed outright at Pamela’s shocked expression, even though she was appalled by this overt display of snobbery. ‘Don’t worry about him. He’s an old friend of the family.’ She opened the car door and stepped out onto the pavement. ‘Come away, Dennis. You’re frightening Mrs Pallister.’
‘What’s going on?’ Dennis demanded as he followed Poppy up the garden path and into the house. ‘Who’s that posh bird in the Daimler?’
‘I’m sorry, Dennis. I haven’t got time to chat right now.’ Poppy hurried into the kitchen and closed the door, leaving Dennis outside in the hall. ‘Mabel, I’ve got something important to tell you.’
‘What’s going on?’ Dennis banged on the wooden panels. ‘I’m coming in.’
Poppy leaned her back against the door. ‘Go away, Dennis. This has nothing to do with you. I want to speak to Mabel in private.’
‘Good God, what’s happened?’ Mabel demanded. ‘Shut up, Dennis. I can’t hear myself think with you making that noise.’
‘What’s going on, Dennis?’ Uncle Fred’s voice echoed round the hallway.
‘That’s what I want to know.’ Dennis gave the door one last thump. ‘I’ll be in the front room when you’re ready to talk, Poppy.’
‘You’d think he owns me,’ Poppy said crossly. ‘I thought I’d made it plain that there’s no future for us, but he won’t take no for an answer and that’s another reason why I’m leaving tonight, Mabel.’
‘You’re what?’ Mabel leaned against the sink, clutching a cup of tea in her hands.
‘It’s Mrs Pallister outside in the car. You know, Mrs Carroll’s daughter.’
‘What does she want?’
Poppy explained as quickly and simply as she could, but Mabel was at first shocked and then angry. ‘How can you even think about going back there after the way they treated you?’
‘I’m going for Rupert’s sake as much as anything. He’s a dear little boy and I love him. I can’t bear to think of him shut up in that miserable nursery with a grumpy nanny who doesn’t give a damn about him, and Mr Carroll was always kind to me. He’s in a bad way according to Pamela.’
‘But they’ll treat you like a servant and the only difference is they won’t pay you. She’s taking advantage of your good nature. Anyway, you can’t just walk out on your nurse’s training. What will Sister McNally say?’
‘Mr Pallister is going to write an official letter explaining why I had to leave without notice. It’ll be all right, Mabel.’
‘I don’t know about that. I don’t like it, and Joe wouldn’t either. I doubt if he’d let you go.’
Poppy slipped her arm around Mabel’s shoulders. ‘I love you, Mabel, and you’ve been good to me, but we’re packed in this house like sardines in a tin. It’ll be much more comfortable with just you and your family.’
‘That’s it, isn’t it?’ Mabel’s eyes glistened with unshed tears. ‘This is all because you don’t feel at home here, especially now you’ve f
ound out about your real dad. Honestly, Poppy, it doesn’t make any difference to me or Joe. He won’t care if you’re only a half-sister: he loves you and he’ll be mad at me for letting you go.’
‘Then don’t tell him. I’ll probably be back in a few weeks anyway. Once I’ve settled young Rupert and helped out with Mrs Carroll, I’ll come home again. Hopefully Uncle Fred will have found them somewhere else to live by then, and I’ll be able to go back to work at the hospital. I’m going to finish my training no matter what.’
‘That’s easy for you to say.’ Mabel wiped her eyes on her apron. ‘You might find yourself out of a job, or the Carrolls will keep you hanging on until you’re an old maid with no chance of training for anything.’
‘It won’t happen like that. This is just a temporary arrangement until Mr Carroll is fit and well again after his accident. You’ll see.’
It was one thirty in the morning by the time the Daimler purred up the drive at Squire’s Knapp. Pamela dismissed Harper with a casual instruction to garage the car in the coach house before turning in.
‘Where will he sleep?’ Poppy asked anxiously. ‘You don’t expect him to spend the night in the back of the car, do you?’
Pamela started up the stone steps leading to the front entrance. ‘Heavens no. I wouldn’t want Harper to put his size tens on the upholstery. Don’t worry about him, Poppy. He’s been here often enough to know the ropes. He’ll wake Jackson and they’ll muddle in together.’ She rummaged round in her handbag and produced a key. ‘I’m ready for bed, I don’t know about you.’
The house was in darkness as Poppy followed Pamela indoors. A sliver of moonlight formed a pathway across the parquet floor ending abruptly at the foot of the grand staircase. The scent of beeswax and lavender polish was endearingly familiar.
‘You’ll have to use Guy’s room,’ Pamela whispered as they made their way upstairs. ‘It’s the only one with a bed that’s been aired, although I doubt if the sheets have been changed since he was here a fortnight or so ago, but you won’t mind for one night, will you, Poppy?’