by Betty Annand
Gladys was just about to answer when Dolly ran up with a hand full of daisies, “Gamby, I picked these for you under that big tree over there.” She pointed to a large oak tree not far from where they were seated. “I like that tree, Gamby, it looks just like a friendly giant with his arms stretched out.”
“So it does. I think he must be welcoming us with open arms,” Andrew exclaimed.
Gladys smiled and added, “But instead of open arms it should be, oaken arms.”
“By Jove, Gladys, I think you have just given our estate a name. Oaken Arms! Is that not a hospitable sounding title?”
Dolly and Millie agreed wholeheartedly, but Gladys didn’t answer. She was still shocked by the words, our estate. She was afraid to hope he was including her and Dolly when he said “our.”
Andrew interrupted her thoughts. “Gladys, don’t you like the name?”
“What name?”
“Haven’t you been listening? Your mind seems to be elsewhere. I must say, I am disappointed, I thought you would be as excited about the plans for our house as I.”
“There, you said it again.”
“Said what?”
“‘Our.’ What exactly do you mean by our?”
“Whatever would I mean? Ours, of course—mine, yours, and Dolly’s. Or do you object to living under the same roof as your old father-in-law?” Then, not allowing her to answer, he added, “If you have another look at these plans, you will see that there are a number of good sized apartments in the building so as to allow everyone plenty of privacy.”
“You actually mean it will be ours?” Gladys asked, wide-eyed.
“Of course I do, you silly goose! I am having this house built for the three of us. I shall even put it in yours and Dolly’s name, so after I am gone no one can take it from you. I intend to sign the house in town over to my stepson and give him, Rose, and his sister, a generous allowance. They shall not get their hands on this place, by jove. How does that sound?”
Instead of an answer, Gladys jumped up and hugged him so enthusiastically that he fell over backwards, and they all had to laugh.
“There is one thing you will have to put up with, Gladys, when we move into Oaken Arms, and that is having a few servants about.”
“A few? Why I was thinking it would take a few dozen at least, that is if I am to play the part of a proper lady.”
“Nonsense, you are a proper lady, and I know you will make a superb mistress of Oaken Arms. You must never change, must she, Millie?”
Millie looked a little sceptical when she agreed. She loved Gladys dearly and was proud of her accomplishments, but the girl had a restlessness about her that worried Millie. Although Gladys appeared thrilled over the prospect of becoming a lady of high standing, Millie knew the disdain she felt for that class of people, and because Millie knew her background, she understood her sentiments.
“I suppose I shall have to have a personal maid to dress me, do my hair, and bathe me?” Gladys said to Millie, scrunching up her nose.
“You will have so many things to do managing a house that large, you will be thankful for all the pampering you can have,” Millie replied.
“And when you retire, there will be a place at Oaken Arms for you too, Millie, if you like,” Andrew announced.
This caused Millie to shed a volley of tears.
As they were riding back to Dover, Andrew explained how he came to buy the property. “I was most fortunate in selling my other estate a few days after hearing about this place. There are not many pieces of land left anymore, what with the amount of newcomers arriving in and around our town these past few years. I suppose that’s why I sold it so quickly.”
“It must have been hard to part with though,” Gladys replied.
“I do have some wonderful memories of the good times Dorothy, Tom, and I had there, but the place is very old and in a sorry state of disrepair—so much so that I fear the entire house would have had to be remodelled, and then it would still be old. It will be far more exciting to build a new modern manor; don’t you think?”
“Oh yes!” Gladys replied. “My head is buzzing with ideas. There is so much to think about that I don’t think I shall ever be able to sleep again.” Thoughts were racing around in Gladys’s mind. She could picture herself and Dolly playing croquet on the lawn and riding their horses across the fields. She even had romantic thoughts of falling in love again and having more children. She could picture Dolly looking like a princess with suitors begging for her hand. All these thoughts in a matter of seconds. She even thought that once she moved into the manor, perhaps she would at last be able to cast aside Gladys Tunner and become the lady Andrew thought she was.
The disappointment she had harboured over not being the wife of an officer vanished that day, and during the following weeks, she and Andrew were kept busy going over the plans and choosing the best place to build the house. A good-sized stream ran through the back of the property, and Lord Sorenson said that because it continued to flow throughout the summer, there was always a good catch of trout to be had. And because they had plenty of water, he even suggested they plant a field of hops since they grew so well in that part of the country. Andrew added to Gladys’s excitement by advising her to think about the different styles of furnishings and window dressings she would prefer.
There were no more mystery trips because all they wanted to do was spend time roaming around the property and having picnics under the oak tree. Andrew had hired a carpenter to build a round table and some stools so they could sit under the oak and have their sandwiches. He also contracted an ironmonger to build a fence, made of iron rails and an ornate gate with Tom’s regimental coat-of-arms on each side, across the front of the property. Gladys suggested they have an expansive lawn from the gate to the house with flowers planted all along a winding driveway. When the decision was made regarding the placement of the coach house and stable, Andrew promised Dolly a pony of her own as soon as they were able to move in.
Chapter Twenty-Three
When Gladys began looking for furnishings for the manor, she asked for Millie’s advice. At first she was delighted with the dressmaker’s suggestions, but gradually, Millie’s choices began to make less and less sense. Then one day when they were looking at a lovely Persian carpet in one of the shops, Millie shocked her by saying, “There will be children and filthy, dirty animals running all about. They will destroy everything. Second hand furnishings would suit you far better, my dear.” This was so unlike her friend that Gladys realized she was confused and must have thought the Sorenson children and their animals were going to live in Oaken Arms. Not wanting to upset her, Gladys suggested they stop shopping and have a cup of tea in a little tea shop. An hour later, Millie was herself again.
Although Millie suffered brief losses of memory from then on, Gladys thought it was just a normal ageing problem and did her best to ignore it. One Monday morning when she and Dolly were sitting at the kitchen table finishing their breakfast, Millie surprised them by arriving dressed in her best suit and wearing her favourite large-brimmed ostrich-feathered bonnet. It was difficult to tell if her face was flushed with fever, or she had applied too much colour to her cheeks.
“Millie, what are you doing here?”
“Am I early?” Millie asked.
“Early? Early for what, Millie?”
“Why, the theatre of course! I walked all the way here so it would be more convenient for Andrew when he comes to pick us up. My goodness, Gladys, you are not even dressed.” She continued talking in an agitated tone as she walked past Gladys into the kitchen, “Give me Dolly’s clothes and I shall have her ready by the time you are dressed, and, Gladys, wear that pretty blue frock I made for you, I want to introduce you to some of my theatre friends.”
Stunned, Gladys had no idea how to respond, so she decided to play along, “You are far too early, Millie. We still have two h
ours until Andrew comes, why don’t you take off your hat and jacket and have a nice hot cup of tea and some toast and jam?”
“It’s strawberry, Auntie, and it’s very good!” Dolly added, unaware that anything was amiss.
“Now how on earth did I manage to get the time wrong? Never mind, a cup of tea sounds fine,” Millie responded. Then with a vacant look, she mumbled, “Odd, but I don’t recall if I have eaten today.”
Gladys buttered and added a generous portion of jam to two large pieces of toast she had cooked on the stove. Millie gulped the food down quickly and after she finished some of the colour faded from her cheeks, and she appeared calmer.
“Come and rest on the divan, Millie, while we get ready. You must be tired from your walk,” Gladys suggested.
“I do feel a bit weary. Perhaps a few minutes of rest will do me good.”
Gladys covered her friend with an afghan before she and Dolly left her to go upstairs where they could talk without disturbing her. “Where is Gamby taking us, Mama?” Dolly wanted to know.
“Nowhere, darling. Your Aunt Millie is having a little trouble remembering things now.”
“Why?”
“Well, sometimes when people get older they forget things and become very confused. That is what is happening to Aunt Millie, but if we pretend she is acting normal, it won’t hurt her feelings. Do you think you can remember to do that?”
“I think so, Mama. Are you and Gamby going to be like that when you are older?”
“I hope not, but one can never tell. That is why it is so important to learn how to look after yourself. I had to look after myself when I was just your age.”
“Did your mother get mixed up too?”
“No, but my father was lost at sea, so my mother had to leave me alone and go to work; but now I think we should work on your letters,” Gladys said, anxious to change the subject. Dolly took her mother’s advice seriously and from then on, she did her utmost to be self-sufficient.
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They worked for an hour then went downstairs to peek in on Millie. She was snoring softly, so they left the front door open and went out to do a little gardening.
“Gladys! Gladys! Where are you?” Millie shouted when she woke and found herself on the divan. Gladys came running in. “Gladys, what am I doing here? What has happened?”
“You are fine, Millie. You were tired and just had a little nap.”
“What time is it?”
“It’s eleven o’clock.”
“Then why on earth am I here instead of in my shop? Mrs Prescott will be there in a half an hour for a fitting. What is the matter with me, Gladys?” Millie asked in obvious despair. “Why can I not remember?”
Gladys sent Dolly upstairs to play. Then she sat down beside Millie, and gently tried to explain what had happened.
“Oh, Gladys, whatever shall I do?” Millie sobbed. “I shall go stark raving mad!”
“No you won’t, Millie. It’s just that your memory is not what it used to be. The same thing happens to a lot of people, but I think you should see the doctor. We are not living in the olden days anymore, thank goodness, and I’m sure there is something he can prescribe to help you.” Millie didn’t argue; she knew she needed help. She couldn’t recall having such a thing happen to her before and didn’t want it to happen again.
They visited the doctor the next afternoon, and when he was through with the examination, he took Gladys aside to tell her that Millie was suffering from senility. “There has been a lot of research done, Mrs Pickwick, and some drastic experiments too, but from all I have heard nothing positive has come of it. I can, however, give her medication that may be of help, especially when she becomes cranky or aggressive,” he said.
“Millie will never be like that. She’s the gentlest person I know. And she never complains, even though she often suffers with toothaches,” Gladys assured him.
“But you must understand, Mrs Pickwick, she will become progressively worse and often, in cases similar to hers, their personality alters drastically. Now when that happens, this will help to calm her,” he said as he handed Gladys a pint-sized bottle of liquid. “And it will also give her relief when she has a toothache.”
Gladys and Millie had always been honest with one another, so when they arrived home, Gladys related what the doctor had said. At first Millie cried out, saying that the doctor must be wrong, but when she calmed down, she had to admit that he was probably right. She hadn’t told Gladys, but for a long time she had been forgetting things. One day she had almost burnt the house down by forgetting to close the door on her little stove.
A piece of the red-hot coals had fallen out and burnt a good size hole in her carpet before she came in from the shop and found it smouldering. She cut out a piece of the same carpet from under her bed and covered it over so no one would see it. Now she looked up at Gladys with an expression so sad that Gladys almost lied when she was asked a volley of pertinent questions: “How long have I before I lose my mind completely? How long will it be before I am unable to do my work? Where will I live when I can no longer pay my rent?”
The only answer Gladys could provide was to the last question. “You shall come and live with us, of course. We should be moved into Oaken Arms in about a year, and I’m sure you will be fine until then.” But as it happened, Millie’s mental disability was not the only adversity she had to contend with. Two months later, she suffered a slight stroke and for a short time, was left with partial paralysis. Until she regained her mobility, she found it necessary to send her customers to other seamstresses.
Unfortunately, Millie didn’t fully recover and was not as adept at sewing as she had been, and some of her regular customers began taking their business elsewhere. The worry over the loss of income brought on the anxiety attacks the doctor had predicted, and she was forced to take the medicine he had given her. Although the elixir did little to enhance her proficiencies, or slow down the escalation of her senility, it did provide her with a pleasant sense of euphoria. Gladys, kept so busy with choir practice and working on plans with Andrew for Oaken Arms, didn’t fully realize how significantly Millie’s life had changed for the worse.
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Two Sundays in a row, Millie gave flimsy excuses why she couldn’t accompany them on their picnics at Oaken Arms. The following Sunday it rained, so Gladys cooked a large joint of beef and made Yorkshire pudding. Andrew was supposed to pick up Millie, but when he knocked at her door, there was no answer. Assuming she had gone on ahead, he was surprised she wasn’t at Gladys’s when he arrived. “That’s odd,” Gladys said when he told her what had happened. “She’s not in the habit of going out on her own, at least not that I know of. Do you mind going back to see if she is home now, before we have our dinner?”
Andrew was about to leave when Mr Grimsby arrived with some very upsetting news. “I am sorry to interrupt thee at meal time, Gladys,” he said, “but I know thee are a good friend of the seamstress. You see she won’t leave the cemetery. I gave her a brella but she were already wet through. I didn’t know what else to do.”
“What on earth would she be doing there?” Gladys asked.
“She keeps saying her little boy is buried there alongside her parents. I inquired for their names, and she said, Huddleston, and the boy’s name be Michael McIver. Now I know every name on every last stone in my yard, and there be no Huddleston. I do have a McIver mind, but he were eighty when he passed, so it could not have been her young one. She thinks I am not telling her the truth, and she won’t leave. I am afraid she is likely to catch her death, along with her dog. He won’t leave her side.”
Andrew offered to take his rig and follow Mr Grimsby to the graveyard in order to bring Millie back. About a half hour later he returned with a very wet, tired, and confused dressmaker. He told Gladys that when he found Millie, she was staggering from one tombstone to another mum
bling, “Where are you, my precious? Where are you?” He put his arms around her and told her she was in the wrong graveyard and by that time she was too weak to argue.
Gladys had a warm tub of water ready in the kitchen and quickly stripped off Millie’s sopping wet clothes and bathed her. She gave Dolly and Andrew a big towel to dry poor little Taffy, but they had to let him run into the kitchen every so often to make sure his mistress was still there. Gladys was shocked when she discovered an angry looking sore the size of a farthing under one of Millie’s breasts and one about the same size under a shoulder blade where the metal stays had worked through the material of her corset and rubbed the flesh raw. Her other undergarments were soiled causing Gladys to realize that she hadn’t taken them off for days, and she wondered how anyone could stand to sleep in corsets.
Gladys did all she could do not to cry, and she made up her mind not to allow her dear friend to return home for a long time. After Millie was dried and dressed in one of Gladys’s nightdresses and dressing gowns, she appeared to be tired but calm, so they all sat down to an overcooked dinner.
The next day, Andrew put a notice in Millie’s shop window saying that it would be closed for an undetermined time due to illness, and Millie and Taffy moved in with Gladys and Dolly. Although Millie behaved strangely at times, Dolly was happy to have her there and enjoyed playing nursemaid. For ten days Millie was content to lie around the house without showing any concern over the unfinished work she had left behind. Then one day, her lethargic attitude left and she seemed to regain most of her senses. It was all Gladys could do to keep her for another three days until her sores were completely healed and her clothes washed and mended.
Andrew went along with Gladys when she took Millie home in order to help get her settled, but when they saw the rundown condition of her living quarters, they were hesitant to leave her on her own.