The Camberwell Raid

by Mary Jane Staples

  ‘So this is our daughter, Charles.’

  The surprised eyes of the young people made Major Armitage say quickly, ‘My daughter, your stepdaughter.’

  ‘How lovely she is,’ said Mrs Armitage. ‘Bring her in, Charles. The others may go.’

  ‘Pardon?’ said Tim.

  ‘Is there a misunderstanding?’ asked Rosie.

  ‘No, you may stay, my dear,’ said Mrs Armitage, ‘but we have no need of the others, whoever they are. Carter will drive them to the station. Come, my husband and I will show you Headleigh Hall, and where we shall accommodate you.’ She was throatier, huskier. ‘A beautiful suite of rooms.’

  ‘Slow down, Pauline,’ said Major Armitage, a little edge to his voice, ‘you’re running ahead of events. Order some coffee for our guests, some refreshments. It’s been a long drive.’

  ‘Refreshments?’ Mrs Armitage ran the tip of her tongue over her bottom lip. ‘Yes, of course.’ She turned, took two paces and stumbled. It was Rosie who darted and prevented her from falling. Major Armitage, looking more put out than concerned, nevertheless reached his wife’s side and put an arm around her.

  ‘I shouldn’t have let her leave her bed,’ he said to Rosie. ‘Her condition varies, you know, but today she insisted she was well enough to get up and meet you. She was keen to do so. If you’ll excuse me for a few minutes, I’ll see to her.’

  ‘I’m quite all right,’ said Mrs Armitage, pushing at him. But her face looked distorted, as if she was fighting pain. It wasn’t so much pain, however, it was a need for brandy, the tipple to which she was incurably addicted. She’d made her effort, because of Rosie, but she had no staying power.

  Major Armitage took her up the terrace steps and into the house, Rosie following along with Eloise and Tim, Eloise thinking she knew what was wrong with Mrs Armitage, the same thing that had been wrong with the brother of her Uncle Jacques. Alcohol.

  The manservant reappeared and, at a nod from Major Armitage, took the guests into a drawing-room, where colour, framed paintings and exquisite furniture leapt to dazzle the eye. The floor was almost fully covered by a hunting carpet, and above the marble fireplace was a gilt Chippendale overmantle whose several mirrors flashed light.

  ‘Please be seated,’ said the manservant, ‘and I’ll bring refreshments.’ He was a very dignified character, and made his exit in almost lordly fashion.

  ‘Bet you a bob he’s the butler, Rosie,’ said Tim.

  ‘Ah, an English butler,’ said Eloise, ‘’ow grand. But poor Madame Armitage, so ill, isn’t she?’

  ‘She seemed very weak,’ said Rosie.

  ‘She flopped,’ said Tim. ‘Lucky you caught her, Rosie. But did you hear her telling me and Eloise to push off? What a queer old bird.’

  ‘She cannot ’elp it,’ said Eloise, ‘but I was amazed. Such a strange-looking wife for such a handsome man, yes? Oh, but see this room, isn’t it enchante? They are aristocrats, yes. Imagine, your father an aristocrat, Rosie. Ah, you are one also because of your birth.’

  ‘My birth doesn’t make me feel I belong to this place,’ said Rosie quietly. ‘Once and for all, Eloise, I am an Adams, and you must understand that, sister dear, or we shall fall out.’

  ‘Oh, but—’

  ‘You are an Adams too,’ said Rosie, ‘and usually no Adams falls out with another. Our grandma doesn’t allow it, and will speak her mind if it happens.’

  ‘I’ll be the one to get it in the neck if you two quarrel,’ said Tim. ‘Grandma always blames the one that’s wearing trousers. Crikey, though, is there anything grander than this place except Buckingham Palace?’

  ‘I am astonished,’ said Eloise, ‘but I did not mean to upset you, Rosie.’

  ‘Oh, all over,’ smiled Rosie, and Major Armitage entered the room then.

  ‘My apologies,’ he said. ‘So sorry my wife had one of her turns.’ He had put her to bed with a weak brandy and soda, brandy being the only refreshment her mind had been on. He had, however, taken the bottle away, although he knew it was quite possible she had another cunningly hidden somewhere. He was angry with himself for having taken the risk of letting her meet Rosie, but she had insisted she must, that she would be quite capable. He might have known she wouldn’t be. ‘What, no refreshments yet?’

  ‘They’re here, sir,’ said the manservant, reappearing again. He advanced carrying a large silver tray on which there were biscuits, coffee, sherry and lemonade, together with cups, saucers, small plates, jugs and glasses. He placed the tray on a low rosewood table that stood in front of the fireplace.

  ‘Now,’ said Major Armitage, ‘who’d like coffee, who’d like sherry and who’d like the cook’s first-class lemonade?’

  ‘Coffee, if you please,’ said Eloise, her tiny hat, a Juliet cap, sitting neatly on her brown hair. Rosie, crowned with a round navy blue hat, smiled at their host.

  ‘Yes, coffee for me too, please,’ she said.

  ‘I think I’ll have a sherry,’ said Tim.

  ‘You mean a glass of the cook’s lemonade,’ smiled Rosie.

  ‘Oh, one or the other, I don’t mind,’ said Tim airily.

  ‘I’ll see to them, Martin,’ said Major Armitage.

  ‘Very good, sir,’ said the manservant, and left.

  Major Armitage poured the coffee. Eloise asked for hers to be black. Rosie asked for a dash of milk with hers.

  ‘Or cream?’ smiled Major Armitage.

  ‘Well, cream, well, I’m blessed,’ said Tim, ‘there’s a new song out, “You’re The Cream In My Coffee”.’

  ‘Oh, then let’s go along with the song,’ said Rosie.

  Rosie and Eloise received their coffee, and Tim was given a glass of lemonade. Major Armitage poured himself coffee with just a little milk, and sat down with his guests around the table. He offered the biscuits, which weren’t refused. He took one himself, since they were the cook’s own shortbread recipe.

  ‘A little something to keep us all going until lunch at one,’ he said, then spoke about his estate and what there was to see, the gardens, the parkland, a wood in which pheasants might be spotted, the stables and a dairy farm. Tim asked questions about everything in the manner of a naturally interested boy, and Eloise asked questions in the manner of a very intrigued young lady. Rosie asked no questions at all. She was taking in Major Armitage’s attitude and making a gradual assessment of the very pleasant gentleman. She felt there was far more to him than civilities, there had to be when one realized he had this magnificent manor house and its large estate to run. But just for himself and his wife, a place like this? No sons or daughters, except herself? It was understandable, his wish to have her under his roof. She did ask one question eventually.

  ‘Are you your father’s heir, Major Armitage?’

  A little sigh escaped him at her formal use of his name and rank, but his pleasant smile followed. He was prepared to exercise a great deal of patience with his striking daughter.

  ‘Yes, as my father’s eldest son, I shall inherit,’ he said.

  ‘And you’ll be Sir Charles Armitage then?’ said Rosie.

  ‘Yes, the title’s hereditary,’ said Major Armitage, at which Eloise looked more intrigued and Tim blinked.

  ‘How very nice for you,’ smiled Rosie.

  Ah, thought Eloise, she is impressed.

  Crikey, thought Tim, that’s something to tell the family.

  ‘Would you all like to be shown around the house?’ asked Major Armitage. ‘There’ll be time before lunch, and this afternoon I’ll take you over the estate.’

  ‘Eloise and Tim would love to see the house,’ said Rosie. ‘Myself, I should like to talk to you.’

  Major Armitage felt then that whatever was in her mind it was in his favour.

  ‘I’d be very happy about a talk, Rosie,’ he said, ‘and I’ll get Martin to take Tim and Eloise on a tour of the house.’

  ‘Excuse me, sir,’ said Tim, ‘is Mr Martin your butler?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Major Armitage. />
  ‘First time I’ve met a butler,’ said Tim.

  ‘Butlers are an invaluable species, Tim. At least, good ones are.’ Major Armitage got up and rang for Martin. The dignified manservant, middle-aged, was not long in presenting himself.

  ‘You rang, sir?’ he said, and Major Armitage asked if he would be good enough to show Tim and Eloise around the house. ‘A pleasure, sir,’ said Martin, and stood at the open door waiting for the boy and the young lady in question to join him there.

  ‘You’ll be all right, Rosie?’ said Tim, coming to his feet along with Eloise.

  ‘Yes, of course, Tim,’ said Rosie.

  ‘I assure you, I won’t eat her,’ smiled Major Armitage, and Tim and Eloise left in company with the stately butler. The door closed behind them. ‘May I now tell you what an exceptional pleasure it is to have you here, Rosie?’ said Major Armitage.

  ‘All three of us?’ said Rosie.

  ‘I meant you particularly.’

  ‘I do understand how you feel,’ said Rosie, ‘and I’m sorry, of course, that your wife has been unable to give you children. Major Armitage, do—’

  ‘Must you call me that, Rosie?’

  ‘I really don’t feel I can call you father,’ said Rosie. ‘Never mind, worse things happen, don’t they? Anyway, do you have a solicitor?’

  ‘A solicitor?’ Major Armitage looked hard at her. Rosie smiled. ‘Rosie, are you going to suggest I should do something about establishing a father’s claim on you?’

  ‘Heavens, no, nothing of the kind,’ said Rosie. ‘You have a solicitor, yes, of course you have, a family solicitor, I daresay. Have you spoken to him about me?’

  ‘Frankly, yes,’ said Major Armitage.

  ‘You’ve asked him, perhaps, if you have a chance of setting my adoption aside?’

  ‘I asked him for counsel’s opinion.’

  ‘Someone who would make a case for you in a civil court?’ enquired Rosie.

  ‘Having met you, I don’t think I can be blamed for wanting you under my roof,’ said Major Armitage.

  ‘That’s a little absurd, though, isn’t it?’ said Rosie. ‘You’ve managed without me for nineteen years.’

  ‘Only because I knew nothing of your existence,’ said Major Armitage, keeping quiet about counsel’s opinion.

  ‘I didn’t mean that unkindly,’ said Rosie, ‘but the fact is, if you hadn’t found out about me it wouldn’t have seriously mattered, would it? What one has never had or never known, one can’t miss, isn’t that true?’

  By God, thought Major Armitage, does any young woman have as much composure as this one?

  ‘True, yes,’ he said, ‘but I did find out.’

  ‘So you’ve been consulting your solicitor in the hope of establishing a legal claim on me, and in the further hope that that would persuade me to live here, at Headleigh Hall?’ said Rosie.

  ‘I won’t deny it.’

  ‘Well, I’m going to ask you not to proceed,’ said Rosie. ‘You see, if you take any steps, any steps at all, that will mean my adoptive parents having to go to court to fight you, you will never see me again. I don’t wish them to have those kind of worries. I think perhaps you feel you could have the adoption set aside, and then be able to make me leave my family and live here. But I don’t think the adoption could be set aside.’

  ‘Rosie, no, I haven’t thought of making you do that,’ said Major Armitage, ‘I’ve only thought I’d like the chance to have you living here some part of each year.’

  ‘In the hope of turning me into an Armitage?’ said Rosie.

  ‘You are an Armitage, I swear it.’

  ‘All my happiness has come from being an Adams,’ said Rosie. ‘It really would be useless to fight my adoption in court, for I’m sure it would never work, and in any case, there is no way you could compel me to live here for even a week if I didn’t want to. I have to tell you a second time, you would never see me again. As it is, if you’ll leave things as they are, I will promise to visit you four times a year.’

  ‘That would be the sum total of our relationship, four daily visits from you a year?’ said Major Armitage.

  ‘The sum total before was nothing,’ said Rosie.

  ‘By God, Rosie, you argue your case like the very devil,’ said Major Armitage. He knew, of course, he had no case himself.

  ‘I simply don’t wish to have you fight my adoptive parents,’ said Rosie. ‘They’ve given me too much for me not to fight for them, to ensure they have no worries.’

  ‘Are you so very attached to them?’ asked Major Armitage.

  ‘More than you perhaps will ever realize, much more,’ said Rosie.

  ‘Well, the last thing I want is to be left completely out in the cold,’ said Major Armitage, ‘and must settle for seeing you four times a year. Would you agree, however, to us writing to each other?’

  ‘I always answer any letters I receive,’ said Rosie. ‘You’re very likeable, you know, and I’m pleased about that.’

  ‘I shall follow your career with great interest,’ said Major Armitage, ‘and will always offer any help you may need.’

  ‘It’s agreed, then, you’ll instruct your solicitor to take no further action?’ said Rosie.

  Major Armitage smiled wryly.

  ‘It’s agreed,’ he said. ‘By heaven, what a splendid young woman you are, Rosie. I shall always regret not knowing of your birth.’

  ‘Would you, then, have married my mother?’ asked Rosie.

  ‘I’m not sure I can answer that,’ said Major Armitage.

  ‘Well, I shan’t press you to,’ said Rosie, certain he would have thought twice about marrying the shallow woman who had been her mother. In any case, if she had been given the power to change things, she would have changed nothing that had happened to her since the days when, as a little girl, she had first come to know Boots. ‘We can call ourselves friends now, can’t we?’

  ‘I won’t quarrel with that,’ said Major Armitage, ‘it’s a beginning.’

  Rosie smiled. She had secured what she most wanted, freedom from worry for Boots and Emily. She didn’t really think the law would have quashed the adoption on the grounds that the natural father had had no say in the matter, but she’d hated the thought of Boots and Emily being dragged into court. Actions in civil courts could be prolonged, and were meat and drink to barristers.

  ‘I shall keep my promise to visit you,’ she said.

  ‘It’s the kind of beginning I must accept,’ said Major Armitage.

  ‘Well, a friendly beginning is much more acceptable than an unfriendly finish, isn’t it?’ smiled Rosie.

  Chapter Ten

  THE REST OF the day was very pleasant for Rosie, Tim and Eloise. They enjoyed a superb lunch in a beautiful dining-room, with Major Armitage a friendly and attentive host. His wife was not present.

  After lunch, he took them around the gardens, where a profusion of daffodil and tulip beds blazed with spring colour, and rhododendrons and azaleas were bursting into flower. Eloise exclaimed in excited admiration, hiding the fact that her curiosity was close to boiling point. She was sure that Rosie’s private conversation with Major Armitage had resulted in something to Rosie’s advantage. Ah, yes, as his only child, Rosie must mean much to him, and because of all he had, this magnificent house and estate, he must mean something to her, despite her love for the Adams family.

  Eloise whispered a question.

  ‘Rosie, what ’appened, if you please?’

  ‘I’ll tell you later.’

  ‘No, now. I’m your sister.’

  ‘Later,’ said Rosie.

  From the gardens they went to the stables and saw the string of horses kept by Major Armitage. There were carriages too, but kept only for show and not for use. The tour became extensive, and everything reflected the affluence of Major Armitage as a landowner, or rather, as the heir to it all. His three guests engaged him throughout in animated conversation, and because of the vitality and unspoiled nature of all three, he e
xperienced new regrets that his wife had given him no children, children who might have grown to become very much like these had, Rosie especially.

  They returned to the house for tea, Tim very voluble about all they had seen and very taken with the hospitality and friendliness of their host, while Eloise was still fascinated by everything, and more particularly, of course, by what had taken place between Rosie and her father.

  After tea, at Rosie’s request, Major Armitage drove them back home. He said nothing about what had been agreed, and Rosie said nothing, either. Eloise had the fidgets about being kept in the dark, but Tim had none. He knew Rosie better than Eloise did, and was sure she’d have played Major Armitage with a straight bat. A bloke could always rely on Rosie.

  The journey from Godalming was quite lively, the passengers finding plenty to say to each other and to Major Armitage, who had shown himself to be charming as well as civilized. When they reached the house in Red Post Hill, Rosie asked him if he would like to come in, and he said if Mr Adams could possibly spare him ten minutes, he’d like to talk to him.

  Boots, of course, was willing, and they met again in the study, while Rosie at last eased the frustrations and curiosity of Eloise by recounting how she had dealt with Major Armitage. Emily, Tim, Chinese Lady and Mr Finch also listened.

  In the study, Major Armitage spoke to Boots of his conversation with Rosie, and how an agreement had been reached. He was frank in admitting he’d hoped Rosie would spend several weeks a year at Headleigh Hall. However, she was a young lady with her own ideas about what was fair to all concerned.

  Boots smiled.

  ‘She actually said, did she, that she’d never see you again if you went against her wishes, Major Armitage?’

  ‘She was quite uncompromising in her ultimatum, Mr Adams, and I was left defeated. I must congratulate you and Mrs Adams for bringing her up so well, for obviously allowing her to develop in her own way. Although I’m her father, it’s you and Mrs Adams who command her affections and loyalties, and I only ask for you to go along with her promise to visit me four times a year. If that’s all I can have, I must accept it, and I hope you’ll put nothing in the way of it.’