To Dream Again

by To Dream Again (retail) (epub)

  ‘I can manage. Stafford is helping me,’ Mercy insisted.

  ‘There’s no need for you to manage! We are perfectly able to employ professional help.’

  ‘It doesn’t seem right, having your mother attended by strangers while I’m here.’

  ‘And it doesn’t seem right you wearing yourself out if it isn’t necessary. Doctor Evans agrees with me. He has given me the names of two nurses he can thoroughly recommend, one for day duty, one for night. It’s all arranged, there’s no more to be said!’

  Mercy was a little hurt and annoyed at his high-handed attitude, then she realized she was being unreasonable. She was tired, she had to admit. Wryly she noted to herself that she had to get used to a husband who tended to issue commands. The old easy-going Peter had been left behind somewhere in Flanders, it was a much more decisive Peter who had come back.

  Against all the odds Agnes recovered, but she never regained her former robust health. Her heart had suffered, and she tired easily. Her days now were spent sitting in her chair or sleeping. Agnes had become a semi-invalid, reduced to bouts of self-pity in which she would announce she was moving to her house in Chelston because she was no longer wanted at the Villa Dorata.

  Mercy felt sorry for her, an emotion she had never expected to feel for her mother-in-law. There was something pathetic about this once domineering woman now reduced to a husk of her former self.

  There was no question of Agnes living alone, of course; she was not well enough, but Mercy did not have the heart to say so. Instead, she pointed out that the house at Chelston was already let. Agnes would have to wait until the lease expired before she could move in. That day never came.

  * * *

  Gradually, the scars of the war years healed and life began to return to normal. It was not the normal of before the war, however. Somehow the tranquillity and even tenor of life in those pre-1914 days never returned. Things seemed to move more swiftly, and there was more dissatisfaction and agitation, probably because there was so much unemployment. Even the nurses employed to look after Agnes had been embarrassingly grateful to get a permanent job. Now that the VAD hospitals and wartime nursing homes were closing there was no need for so many fully trained medical staff.

  Peter was conscious of the problems too. It was not unusual for strangers to come knocking at the door, men who had been under his command, and who were now in difficulties. There were letters, too, asking for help, which he never denied. In fact, Mercy suspected that he was spending a fair bit of money assisting his old soldiers.

  Sailing continued to be Peter’s overriding passion, and he spent a good deal of his time at the Yacht Club.

  ‘I’m beginning to think you live there,’ teased Mercy one day.

  ‘Well, we’ve got to get the old club back on an even keel again. The place has got a bit run-down during these last few years.’

  ‘It’s not alone!’ retorted Mercy, pointedly running her hand along a peeling windowsill.

  ‘Yes, I agree. The house needs redecorating, inside and out.’

  ‘All of it?’ gasped Mercy.

  ‘Certainly. The place hasn’t seen a lick of paint since – since 1913 at least! I thought we’d have the outside done golden-yellow, as it used to be years ago. What do you think?’

  ‘It sounds delightful. How nice it will be to see the old place spruced up once more.’

  ‘Good! Then I’ll get on to the decorators at once. Do you really object to me spending so much time at the Yacht Club?’ he asked suddenly.

  She had to smile. ‘Of course not. You enjoy it so much.’

  ‘There’s a chance you’ll be able to enjoy it with me, and not just as a guest. It’s been proposed that ladies be allowed to become associate members! What do you think of that?’ He sounded so thrilled with the idea that Mercy was forced to quell the laughter which rose in her.

  ‘That’s tremendous news,’ she said gravely.

  ‘Yes it is! It’s high time, too! It hasn’t been put before the committee yet, and of course there are bound to be a few who’ll oppose it. I shall fight for it, though, don’t worry. As soon as the motion is carried and on the books naturally I shall put you forward for membership!’

  ‘Thank you, darling.’ Mercy kissed him on the cheek.

  ‘Talking of sailing and all that, have you had a look at old Tango recently?’

  ‘Not for a while, no.’

  ‘I went over to see her last week. Being laid up has done her no good at all, so I thought I’d put her in for a complete refit.’

  ‘A refit?’ The laughter died from Mercy’s face.

  ‘Yes, I did consider just having her overhauled, but she’s in too bad a state. Besides, her engines need bringing up to date. There’s been a lot of progress since she last put to sea, poor old girl.’

  ‘That will cost a lot, surely?’

  ‘It won’t get any cheaper for waiting. There’s a berth free down at Noss, and men available. To be honest I think they could do with the work now the war’s finished.’

  ‘It’s admirable of you to give employment to those men,’ Mercy said, keeping her voice calm. ‘But wouldn’t it be better to wait until we’ve had the house done, and spread the bills a little?’

  ‘No, I do not! I doubt if the Tango is seaworthy now, so that would mean her being laid up for another twelve months, deteriorating all the time. Not to mention the fact that we could not use her. I can’t understand you. I thought you would be pleased.’

  Mercy found it hard to explain her objections. While Peter was in the Army she had managed to run the household pretty economically. Now he was home he had taken complete charge of their finances and she was growing alarmed at the rate they were spending money. Not all of it was Peter’s fault, of course. They had more wages to pay as servants returned from the services, and they lived better now that thriftiness was not required as part of the war effort. Nevertheless, their expenses had increased out of all proportion.

  ‘I am pleased. You know how I’d love to see Tango back in the water, only I think it would be wiser to wait a while.’

  ‘Ever the prudent housekeeper!’ he said, kissing her cheek, i’ll admit you’ve done a marvellous job, keeping the household going and solvent while I’ve been away. However, that time is over. There’s no need for you to worry your head over bills and expenditure and similar boring things. I’m here to take charge. You’ve enough to do looking after the children and Mother.’

  Silently Mercy fumed at his condescension. But to speak out would only provoke a quarrel, which was the last thing she wanted.

  ‘Very well,’ she said. ‘Have Tango rejuvenated, if it makes you happy.’

  ‘Good!’ Peter’s face beamed. ‘Of course it makes me happy. Why shouldn’t I have fun modernizing Tango? You are having fun modernizing the house!’

  Mercy agreed he had a point. She was thoroughly enjoying refurbishing the Villa Dorata. Peter fully approved of her ideas.

  ‘You’ve done marvels!’ he exclaimed a week later, regarding the newly finished dining-room. ‘It’s as if you’d let the sunlight in! I’d never realized how cheerful the place could look.’

  ‘Yes, very cheerful, if you like ladders and dust-sheets and chaos.’ Much as she was pleased with his approval the amount they were spending still bothered her. ‘Peter, we’ve already done so much. Let’s leave the upper floors for now.’

  ‘And spoil the ship for a ha’p’orth of tar?’

  Unfortunately there was more than a ha’p’orth of anything involved. They had other expenses, too, the boys’ school fees, for instance. These were not exorbitant while they attended the local prep school, but it would not be long before John went off to school to Blundells in Tiverton, then the costs would increase. Mercy felt uneasy. It was all too much like the early days of their marriage. She hoped history was not going to repeat itself. Time and again she tried to get a fuller view of their finances, but Peter always fobbed her off.

  Despite her other activit
ies she made a point of visiting Joey regularly. He was doing so well now it was a pleasure to see him so happy. And she had to admit that she found his new business interesting.

  ‘Flourishing, that’s what we are!’ Joey informed her contentedly. ‘At last the cafe’s got going. We’re getting a good bit of trade in morning coffee, teas and light lunches, even out of season, and that’s what I’ve been working for.’

  ‘Well, you seem to have got it,’ said Mercy. ‘There wasn’t an empty table as I passed, which is good, on such a rainy day.’

  ‘Yes, Paignton finally knows we’re here!’ Joey gave a chuckle. ‘I reckon it’s all thanks to the pier burning down, you know.’

  ‘How can you say that?’ asked Mercy, in astonishment.

  ‘It was the crowds who came to see the fun. If you’d seen the people packed along the Esplanade watching the flames, you’d know what I mean. The best free entertainment the town’s had in years. Afterwards, when it was over, everyone was gasping for a cup of tea, and that was when Seaton’s was discovered!’

  ‘You idiot!’ Mercy laughed.

  ‘You think I’m joking, don’t you? Well, maybe I am, but only a bit. There’s no denying that in the couple of years since then our business has gone on improving. The outside catering’s flourishing, too. We’ve got a few good regular orders – masonics, friendly society suppers and that sort of thing – and they help no end. We’ve taken on a woman to help Queenie in the kitchen. I’ve even had to get a girl in to help me serve at these outside do’s.’

  ‘Yes, I’ve seen her.’ Mercy was not sure she liked her brother’s new employee, Angie Bolton, for all she was bright and hard-working. The girl was too conscious of her own attractions, and the look in her eyes when she had gazed at Joey had been rather too bold and enticing. ‘Wouldn’t Millie help?’

  ‘She can’t be in two places at once, and, anyway, you just try ousting her from the cafe and see where it gets you. That’s her territory, that is, and woe betide anyone who interferes. While we’re on the subject of Millie,’ he said, ‘don’t you think it’s time I took over paying her wages?’

  Mercy looked at him in horror. ‘How did you know about that?’

  ‘By doing a bit of ferreting! It’s puzzled me for a long time, how her wages have been paid so regularly, especially when I knew that Ivywood place closed ages ago. I tried my darndest to find out who was responsible, but no one seemed to know. Then I met a lady who used to work at the clinic, Miss Beech, and she said a Mrs Mercy Lisburne had been in charge of that department, and suggested I should contact her. The silly thing was, it never occurred to me to ask you in the first place. I thought you’d only worked for Ivywood for a couple of weeks. But no, says Miss Beech, you were in charge of the clinic’s welfare work for quite a while. I put two and two together. Why on earth did you never say something?’

  ‘I’d almost forgotten I was paying Millie,’ admitted Mercy. ‘Besides, you worked so hard to pay back the money you borrowed, I thought it was a good way to help a little more.’

  Joey shook his head in disbelief.

  ‘What can I say?’ he demanded, and for a moment Mercy wondered if he was going to be angry. ‘At every turn you’ve helped me out. Those days are over now, though. I’m standing squarely on my own two feet, even if one of them is tin. I owe you for Millie’s wages, at least going back to the start of Seaton’s. Hang on a minute while I get my cheque-book—’

  ‘No, there’s no need. I don’t want it, honestly!’ Relieved as Mercy was that at least she had not offended her brother, it took all of her powers of persuasion to get Joey to keep the money.

  ‘All right, it’ll be your share in the business,’ stated Joey. ‘On one condition! If ever you need help – it sounds daft, I know, but it could happen – then you’re to come to me first. Do you promise?’

  ‘I promise,’ agreed Mercy, though in truth she thought the day would never come.

  * * *

  Time drifted by and Mercy’s life assumed a comfortable pattern, with nothing to mar her contentment. Even the wrench of John going away to school had its unexpected benefits for, once parted from his more ebullient brother, William became more outgoing. The wary relationship between him and Peter mellowed, and to Mercy’s great relief, eventually warmed into real affection. Jennifer was a joy to them all. She had developed into a placid little girl, with such a sunny disposition that Peter jokingly wondered if they had been right to call her after her great-grandmother.

  The Tango became a focus for the whole family, with long leisurely trips during the school holidays which somehow never seemed to be marred by foul weather or fog, or even much rain. It was a wonderful time. Mercy hoped it would never end.

  But at 3 a.m, one morning, harsh reality entered their world with a noisy hammering at their bedroom door. Bleary-eyed, Mercy tried to focus on the clock. The urgent knocking continued, and an anxious voice called, ‘Captain Lisburne! Mrs Peter! Oh please wake up!’ Peter was out of bed in a trice, pulling on his dressing gown as he went. Mercy was hard on his heels. Agnes’s nurse would not have awoken them without good reason.

  ‘I am very concerned about Mrs Lisburne,’ said Nurse Mellor urgently. ‘I’ve already telephoned for Doctor Evans. I hoped I acted correctly?’

  Peter was already dashing along the corridor ahead of them, so Mercy replied, ‘Of course. You think it is that serious?’

  ‘I’m afraid so, Mrs Peter.’

  Even before Mercy entered the bedroom she could hear the harsh rasp of Agnes’s breathing. Alarmed, she glanced questioningly at the nurse, who simply shook her head sadly.

  ‘Is there nothing you can do for her?’ demanded Peter of the doctor, when he came. ‘Shouldn’t she be in hospital?’

  ‘It would be disturbing her for no purpose. Far better to keep her here, in familiar surroundings, with her loved ones near.’ Doctor Evans spoke kindly, but the snap as he closed his leather bag seemed to have a terrible finality about it.

  It was a long, dreadful night. No one woke the servants, they appeared of their own accord.

  Blessedly, the children slept on. Everyone else was wide awake and tense, waiting for the inevitable moment. It came soon after dawn. A pale light was illuminating the sky, and the birds were starting to sing. It was then that Agnes stopped breathing.

  Mercy mourned the loss of her mother-in-law far more than she had anticipated. They had never got on well, she would have been a hypocrite if she had said otherwise. Yet she missed her. Agnes had been an integral part of her life for a dozen years or so. It was hard to imagine the Villa Dorata without her.

  Peter’s grief surprised her too. Agnes’s death had not been entirely unexpected, she was elderly and had been in ill health for some time. Nor had his relationship with his mother ever been a loving one. Nevertheless, he appeared numbed by his loss. All during the funeral ceremony his face was bleak and grim, a natural enough expression under the circumstances, as was his silence all the way back from the cemetery. What Mercy was not prepared for was the way his numb withdrawal continued for days afterwards.

  The funeral was over, replies had been written to the messages of condolence, John had been driven back to school, and Mercy settled down to the quiet existence required by being in mourning. She, was writing letters in the drawing room one morning when a visitor was announced. It was Arthur Conway, the family solicitor.

  ‘Mr Conway, this is an unexpected surprise,’ she greeted him.

  ‘Good morning, Mrs Lisburne.’ He shook her hand. ‘I’m sorry to disturb you. It was Captain Lisburne I wanted to see.’

  ‘No doubt Rogers has gone in search of him. In the meantime, please sit down. Can I offer you a drink? Or some coffee?’

  ‘That’s very kind of you, but no thank you.’ Arthur Conway sat down in a chair opposite her.

  He was a lean, upright man, very correct in his manner, very self-assured. Today, however, Mercy felt that he was ill at ease. When Peter entered the room he rose with eviden
t relief and said, ‘Ah, Captain Lisburne! You are an elusive gentleman. I have been trying to contact you for some time!’ The slight reproof in his voice was alien to his normally formal demeanour.

  ‘I suppose you have.’ Peter spoke abruptly. ‘Very well, come along. Let’s get it over with.’

  They went from the room, leaving a puzzled Mercy sitting there. It was not her intention to eavesdrop. At first she found the rumble of male voices coming from the next room intrusive, so she rose to close the window. Once she heard the conversation more clearly, though, she froze, her hand on the latch.

  ‘It can’t be postponed any longer, Captain Lisburne!’ Mr Conway was speaking quite sternly. ‘You are only compounding the complications. Probate should have been applied for days ago. We must go ahead.’

  ‘Why?’ demanded Peter. ‘I know what the outcome will be! And precious little comfort there is for any of us!’

  ‘That may be so, sir. I appreciate your reluctance, things will not improve by trying to ignore them. The formalities must be observed.’

  ‘Oh, do what the devil you like!’ Peter sounded as if he were at the end of his tether. Then more calmly he added, ‘My apologies, Conway. None of this is your fault, so I’ve no cause to snap at you. We’d better get on with it then. Where? Here in the dining-room?’

  ‘If it would be convenient. There are no outside beneficiaries so perhaps the household could be summoned? With the exception of the children, of course.’

  Mercy could not think what it all meant, only the mention of beneficiaries suggested something to do with Agnes’s will. Now she considered it, she supposed there had been rather a delay in reading the will. She had barely stepped back from the window before Rogers entered.

  ‘Your pardon, Madam. Captain Lisburne sends his compliments, and asks if you would be kind enough to join him in the dining room.’

  Mercy went into the next room to find Mr Conway seated at the head of the table, an array of papers in front of him. Peter was gazing out of the window, his back to her, as if trying to disassociate himself with what was going on. A certain amount of whispering and shuffling outside announced the arrival of the servants. When Peter finally sat down opposite her his eyes steadfastly refused to meet hers.