One Rainy Day

by Joan Jonker

  ‘I can’t bear the suspense.’ Poppy laughed. ‘While you mark my homework, Jean, I’ll ask Charlotte how the rocking-horse was received by the baby’s parents.’

  The three women left the café in high spirits: Poppy because her homework had been passed with flying colours, marked by Jean at eight out of ten; Charlotte because she had two pieces of news for her brother which would please him. One, Poppy had promised to accept his offer of tea in his office, and two she wasn’t courting. And Jean was happy because she was in the company of two good friends.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Charlotte was in the kitchen chatting to the housekeeper and cook, while watching them preparing for the evening meal. She often spent time in there now, finding it warm and homely, and she was happy chatting to the staff. And she wasn’t above pinching a cake as Jane was taking a tray out of the oven, or testing the after dinner trifles, which were rich with a variety of fruits and covered in fresh cream. Sitting at the huge scrubbed table, her arms folded, she watched Jane’s quick, sure movements. ‘How did you learn to be such a good cook, Jane?’ she asked. ‘Did your mother teach you?’

  ‘Good heavens, no, Miss Charlotte. My mam could make a good pan of stew, and she could make an apple pie that had us kids drooling at the mouth. And her fairy cakes were so light they could float in the air. But we couldn’t afford those luxuries very often, ’cos with five children to feed and clothe, and a husband what only earned coppers every week, well, she was always pushed for money.’ Jane picked up a thick cloth to cover her hands before opening the oven door to make sure the piece of lamb was cooking to her satisfaction. Then, after rubbing her hands down the side of her long pinny, she smiled at Charlotte. ‘My mam had to go out cleaning to earn enough money to keep the wolf from the door. But I’ll say this for her, God rest her soul, she was a good mother. We might have gone hungry at times, but we never starved. She saw to that. What we lacked in food and clothes, she more than made up for with hugs and kisses, and telling us how much she loved us.’

  Tender-hearted Charlotte was ready to sympathize. ‘Were you very poor, Jane?’

  The cook was about to give a truthful answer when a knowing look from the housekeeper caused her to think twice. ‘Oh, no, Miss Charlotte, we weren’t poor. Our house was noted in the street, because there was always singing and laughter coming from it. My mam and dad were both good singers, and they would sing all the old songs. We had some fine times. I’ve taught my kids all the songs from my childhood days, Irish, Scottish, cockney, I remember them well. So yer see, Miss Charlotte, yer don’t need money to be rich in happiness and love. It comes free.’

  ‘Oh, that’s lovely, Jane. Those songs will always bring back happy memories of your mother and father. You’ll never forget how much they loved you.’

  At that moment a light passed the kitchen window, and Charlotte was off her chair like a shot. ‘Oh, that is Andrew’s car, Frances. I’m going to meet him.’

  ‘No, Miss Charlotte, don’t go out without a coat on,’ Frances said. ‘It’s very cold out; you’ll catch a chill.’ But her words fell on empty air, for Charlotte was out of the door like a streak of lightning. ‘If she catches a cold, I’m the one who will get the blame.’ The housekeeper shook her head in despair. ‘Miss Harriet will say I should have stopped her, but there’s no stopping Miss Charlotte when she sets her mind on something. She can be very stubborn at times.’

  ‘I wouldn’t worry, if I were you,’ Jane said, turning the gas off in the oven. Mr George came home half an hour ago, and now Mr Andrew was home the family would expect to sit down to dinner at half past seven. ‘If she catches cold it’s her own lookout.’ When she opened the oven door, the smell of lamb wafted into the kitchen, and both women closed their eyes and sniffed several times in appreciation.

  Outside, walking from the garage to the house, Charlotte was clinging to her brother’s arm. ‘I’ve got some news for you, Andrew.’

  ‘Tell me later, when we’re inside. You shouldn’t be out without a coat on. So into the kitchen, quickly.’ Andrew followed his sister up the step, and closed the door behind him. ‘What a delicious smell! Jane, I believe you can work magic with a piece of meat. You never fail to set my taste buds yearning.’

  Charlotte was fussing over him. ‘Give me your coat and scarf, Andrew, and I’ll hang them up for you.’

  ‘I’ll do it myself, Charlotte, for I want to take my briefcase upstairs.’ Andrew smiled at the housekeeper as he passed. ‘Doesn’t the smell make you hungry, Frances?’

  ‘It does, Mr Andrew, but Jane’s fine cooking has its drawback for me. I eat far more than I should, for it is too delicious to refuse. But, oh, dear, it does no favour to my figure. I swear I’m going fatter by the hour.’

  Andrew gave her a hug. ‘You are just nice, Frances. I don’t think you would suit being thin.’ He then smiled at Jane, who was as thin as a rake. ‘It doesn’t seem to affect you, Jane.’

  ‘No, Mr Andrew. And that’s because I don’t stand still long enough for the fat to settle. I live on me nerves and can’t stand or sit for long. Always on the go, that’s me. Doesn’t do me no harm. I’m as fit as a fiddle, thank God.’

  ‘And we are very grateful you are fit and healthy. Without you and Frances, we would starve, and the house would fall to pieces.’ Andrew swung his briefcase. ‘I’d better take this upstairs and start getting dressed for dinner.’

  As he was passing the cook, Andrew said softly, ‘Nice golden brown roast potatoes, Jane, will go well with lamb and mint sauce.’

  All the staff were fond of Mr Andrew, for he was so down to earth, and Jane in particular thought he was one of the best, a real gentleman. And he could give and take a joke. ‘How many would yer like, Mr Andrew? Any number between one and six.’

  ‘I won’t be greedy, so make it five.’ Andrew chortled as he made his way out of the kitchen with Charlotte hanging on to his arm. ‘I said five because I didn’t want to sound greedy, but I hope Jane slips up and I get six.’

  Charlotte wondered whether he would mention his meeting with Poppy. Surely he’d be so delighted he wouldn’t be able to keep it a secret? But they reached the top of the stairs and Andrew turned in the direction of his bedroom without saying a word. Charlotte didn’t think she could sit through dinner with such knowledge running through her brain. ‘Andrew, can you spare five minutes? I have something to tell you which you’ll be happy to hear.’

  Standing with the knob of his bedroom door in his hand, Andrew smiled at her across the wide, square landing. ‘And I have some news to tell you, my lovely sister. But it will have to wait. You know how strict Mother is about being punctual for meals. She would be most upset if neither of us were seated when the dinner was served. We may get a chance to talk later.’

  ‘I doubt it, Andrew, because Mother is having one of her card evenings. I know several of her friends are coming.’ Then Charlotte put her hands together as an idea crossed her mind. ‘We could go for a run in the country. We’d have plenty of time to talk.’ She looked at her watch. ‘We’re going to be late and Mother will be cross. So say you’ll agree to a drive in the country, and we can both look sharp and be in the dining room, sitting comfortably, in fifteen minutes.’

  Andrew was smiling when he answered. ‘You drive a hard bargain, dear sister, but yes, I would enjoy a run in the country. It’s stuffy in the office all day, and it will be nice to breathe in some pure air.’

  Dinner was over, and the table cleared, when Frances came in with a tall silver coffee pot. She placed it in the centre of the table before saying, ‘Jane kindly offered to stay later tonight, to make a small buffet for you and your friends, Miss Harriet. And I have to say she has excelled herself, for it looks very appetizing. Everything is covered and in the larder, so it will keep fresh.’

  ‘That is very kind of Jane,’ Harriet said. ‘Please tell her I am very grateful.’

  George raised his bushy brows. ‘Please add that she will be paid extra in her wages, F
rances. Extra work deserves extra pay. I’ll rely on you to make sure she has an appropriate sum in her packet on Saturday.’

  ‘Yes, Mr George, I’ll do as you ask. And now I’ll bring in the milk for your coffee.’

  ‘Charlotte and I are going for a run in the country, Mother,’ Andrew said. ‘So we won’t interfere with your card game. I feel like some country air after a day in the office. But we’ll be home in time to show our faces before your friends leave.’

  George sat back in his chair and hooked his thumbs in his maroon braces. ‘Do you intend to pay a visit to the old country inn you told us about? If so, I would very much like to join you. I’m sure I’d find it interesting.’

  This announcement didn’t go down well with his wife. ‘George, you know I have friends coming. They would think it was very rude of you not to be here.’

  ‘They are your friends, my love, not mine. I have nothing in common with them, and while I am prepared to suffer in silence most of the time, I would like leave of absence tonight. I rather fancy a log fire in an inn that was built hundreds of years ago. That’s if my children don’t mind spending the evening with an old fogey?’

  ‘Of course not, Father. You are the last person I’d think of as an old fogey.’ Andrew glanced at his sister. ‘We’d love Father to come along, wouldn’t we? I’m looking forward to seeing the inn again, and I’m sure it will hold a lot of interest for him.’

  Charlotte didn’t let her disappointment show. She had been looking forward to being alone with her brother and telling him all she had learned about Poppy, which she wouldn’t be able to with her father present. Still, she was being selfish, and selfish people were not nice people. ‘Oh, of course you should come with us, Papa. I’m sure you will love it. I’m looking forward to seeing the look on your face when you first set eyes on it. Andrew and I were really taken with the inn, and the people there. They were very friendly, even if they did smell of farm animals.’

  George looked into his wife’s eyes. ‘This is something I would like to do, my love. If it is all that Andrew and Charlotte say it is, I’m sure it will give me great pleasure. And I have to be frank with you, and say I have little interest in watching you and your friends playing cards. Female chatter is something I have never quite understood.’

  There was a smile hovering around Harriet’s mouth. ‘If you did understand female chatter, my dear, then I would have cause for worry. You should have told me this when I first began the card evenings, and you could have made arrangements to go to your club. I suggest you do so in future, starting tonight. Go with Andrew and Charlotte, enjoy yourself, and tell me all about your adventure when we’re in bed.’ Then her eyes turned away from her husband, and she did a very unusual thing. She winked at Andrew before saying, ‘Who knows? If it is as interesting as it sounds, I may have an urge to see it for myself. A family outing, perhaps?’

  Charlotte found the idea hilarious, and doubled up with laughter. ‘Oh, Mama, that would indeed be wonderful! Oh, yes, we must do that soon. And I insist that Andrew brings a camera along to record the event.’

  ‘I have thought of taking photographs of the inn.’ Andrew nodded. ‘There are not many such places left, and it would be nice to have photographs to look back on in years to come.’

  This wasn’t what his sister had in mind. ‘You misunderstood me, Andrew. It wasn’t the inn I was thinking of when I suggested you brought a camera. It was Mother’s face! I believe her reaction would be worth capturing on film.’

  ‘I’m going to suggest that if Mother is serious about seeing the inn, then our family outing should be very soon. When the light nights are here, I think the inn would lose some of its charm. Probably no log fire, and lots of customers out for a drive in the country. It would spoil the atmosphere completely for me.’ Andrew faced his father. ‘Let’s see what you think. Perhaps Charlotte and I were wearing rose-coloured glasses on our first visit and tonight will be a let-down for you, who knows? But there’s only one way to find out, so shall we retire to our rooms and change into suitable clothing? Come along, Charlotte.’

  George covered his wife’s hand. ‘Can you bear to be parted from your loving husband for a couple of hours?’

  ‘I think I’ll survive, my love. And we’ll have lots to tell each other in bed. So poppy off and enjoy yourself. I do hope this much talked of inn lives up to your expectations.’

  Andrew and Charlotte were walking up the wide staircase side by side. ‘I was hoping we would have a chance to talk to each other,’ Charlotte said. ‘I have some news for you.’

  ‘And I for you, Charlotte, but it can’t be now for we need to have a swill and comb our hair before going out. And we can’t keep Father waiting. There’ll be time when we get home. I’ll come to your room for a chat.’

  As Andrew was opening his bedroom door, Charlotte called, ‘It is a lady’s prerogative to be late, Andrew. We don’t just have a swill and comb our hair. We must put paint and powder on. Plus nail varnish and perfume.’

  ‘You’ve got ten minutes, Charlotte, and if you’re not ready then, Father and I will go without you. That is my last word, and now I’m closing the door.’

  When Andrew parked the car at the side of the inn, George leaned forward for a better view. There were no other cars there, and the only sign the inn was open was the lantern in the window. He stepped from the car and stood looking up at the thatched roof. ‘It’s like stepping back in time,’ he said. ‘I’ve often wished I’d been alive in the early Victorian years, but this is going back a lot further than the reign of Victoria.’

  ‘Wait until you see inside, Papa.’ Charlotte was alive with excitement as she clung to her father’s arm. ‘You’ll love it.’

  As he was being led to the door, Andrew advised his father to duck, for the entrance was very low. ‘I wasn’t looking properly the first time we came, and I almost knocked myself out. I’ll go in front.’

  George noted the thickness of the wooden door, the old latch, and the dents made by wear over the years. And when he stepped on to the flagged floor and looked around, he drew in his breath, for the scene was like a tableau. There wasn’t a sound or movement. The innkeeper was leaning on the wooden bar, and the farmers sitting at a table with tankards in their hands looked like statues. It was a scene that would stay for ever in George’s mind, but in reality it was fleeting. The innkeeper and the farmers remembered Andrew and Charlotte, and they greeted them warmly in their thick country accents. And their welcome was genuine, for they were truly happy to see them. Working in the fields and on the farms seven days a week, they had no time or money for a social life. And when George was introduced, he received the same warm welcome. That he sported a hard bowler hat, wore a suit of pure wool, and was obviously a man of distinction, mattered not. He was treated, as his children had been, as a friend. And being George, he was soon at the bar ordering drinks. There was no selection, just beer and whisky. But that didn’t deter him, for he was comfortable in any company. He sat with his children for a while, discussing the wonderful wood-burning fire, the stonework around it black with age, the low wooden beams, and the thickness of the whitewashed walls. ‘It’s everything you said it was.’ George puffed on his cigar. ‘I wonder how old it is, and if there’s a history attached to it? If you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll have a chat with the landlord. And I’ll get a round of drinks in for the farmers.’

  ‘Can we talk now, Andrew? Exchange our news?’ Charlotte asked. ‘In case we don’t get time later?’

  Andrew’s eyes were on his father. ‘No, leave it until later, Charlotte. I promise I’ll come along to your room after supper. Right now I’m enjoying seeing Father showing so much interest. He still works quite hard, you know, so it’s nice to see him finding something to engage his interest. And look how he mixes in with the farmers, as though he’s known them for ages. Sitting on a roughly made stool, and drinking out of a glass that has a chip in the rim. That is what I admire so much about our father, Charlotte. Prince
or pauper, he treats everyone alike.’

  Loud laughter came from the farmers’ table, where the landlord was delivering a round of drinks. George was holding forth with a tale his children couldn’t hear for the babble, and it was their father who was responsible for the bursts of laughter.

  ‘I have never seen Papa so relaxed and happy,’ Charlotte said. ‘I am really glad we found this inn, and pleased we told Papa. I don’t think he is disappointed, do you?’

  ‘Far from it. He’s in his element. This little inn is steeped in history. If the walls could talk, they would have many tales to tell of how life used to be hundreds of years ago.’ Andrew leaned forward. ‘I am noticing far more this time than I did before. The bar counter is thick, rough wood, and going by the notches all over it I bet it’s hundreds of years old. On the ground in the corner by the bar is a brass spittoon, bearing dents and scratches from days gone by. And I don’t know how I missed that stone alcove with a stone bench at the back of it. I’d say there were no chairs and tables here years ago. The customers must have sat on those stone benches.’

  ‘How uncomfortable,’ Charlotte said, with a little shiver. ‘I’m glad I didn’t live in those days.’

  ‘People wouldn’t have known any different,’ Andrew told her. ‘Except for the very rich, of course. I’d love to know the history of it, and the coaches that stopped here for refreshments, and to water their horses. I imagine they were on their way from somewhere up north, to London. It would be a very uncomfortable journey, as there were no metalled roads in those days.’

  Smiles lit up their faces and they turned their heads as their father’s loud guffaw was followed by roaring laughter from the farmers, and much slapping of thighs. With his pipe in one hand, and a pint tankard in the other, George felt as free as a bird. ‘Should we join them, Andrew?’ Charlotte asked. ‘It looks as though we’re being stand-offish, sitting over here. Shall we move?’

  Andrew was quick to press his sister back on the chair. ‘I don’t think so, Charlotte. It’s men’s talk, I would imagine by the laughter, and I believe the presence of a lady would not be welcome. You would spoil the freedom of speech that they are enjoying so much. I’m not saying they are being vulgar or obscene, for Father would not allow that. But they are telling jokes, and I believe some of them will be about the opposite sex, hence the laughter.’