The Summerfield Bride

by C. G Oster

  Livinia checked her watch. “We should probably get going. Just thought we’d drop in and see how you are. Unfortunately, I have nothing new to tell you about Vivian.”

  “It has been said that the Japanese treated people very poorly and that many didn’t survive their treatment,” Olivia said. “I do hope Vivian is alright. He is alive, at least.”

  “Yes,” Livinia said, but Dory could tell that this revelation was quite distressing to her. In fact, Livinia remained silent as they bid goodbye to Olivia and got in the car.

  “Vivian’s tough,” Dory said.

  “No, he’s not.”

  He had to be if what they were saying about the Japanese were true, but Livinia didn’t want to be told such things right now.

  Chapter 13

  MR. HOLMES DIDN’T BAT an eye when asked to prepare a room for Dory for the night. Dealing with them as a guest of the family would forever be uncomfortable for her, even if Lady Pettifer and Livinia never understood why.

  “How was Olivia?” Lady Pettifer asked as they sat in the salon with their drinks. In a way, Dory felt a little miffed that Lady Pettifer had never mentioned this girl to her—this girl who Livinia expected Vivian to marry. It was hard to imagine Vivian married. He was just so… obtuse.

  Livinia didn’t relay the latter part of their conversation with Olivia, about the rumors she had heard. Perhaps there was no point as it would only distress. There was nothing they could do about it, or even to help Vivian. He was alive and safe in Australia. Eventually he would come home. It could literally be any day. Dory was sure that Lord Wallisford would fly him home when it was possible to do so, rather than have him sit through a long sea voyage from Australia.

  There were things in this family that were not talked about. There always had been.

  “So how did it go today?” Lady Pettifer asked. Her brother, Lord Wallisford, sat smoking with the paper on another seat and Cedric, Livinia’s brother, stood by the fire with his drink, looking disastrously bored.

  “Fredrick is holding up, poor man,” Livinia said. “We spoke to Rose Wentley too, who says there wasn’t any jealousy between the girls, but turned green with envy whenever Corny was mentioned. So she is lying in that regard.”

  “Or simply won’t recognize it,” Dory said.

  “That is possible. Some people do not recognize their own emotions. Isn’t that right, Aldus?”

  “Hmm,” Lord Wallisford said absently, looking up for only a moment before returning to his paper.

  “Petty jealousies, but I did not perceive any true malice,” Livinia said. “But there had been tension. Oh, we saw Olivia too. As we were passing, I thought we’d drop in and say hello. I think she is of mind to rip Vivian to bits for making us all worry so.”

  “You have seen all and sundry today, haven’t you?”

  “She dismissed Annabelle Shoreham completely from contention, suggesting the girl is simply too thick to conceive of such a thing. Unless it was accidental.”

  “Such an injury is not accidental,” Lady Pettifer said. “What did you think, Dory?”

  “I don’t know,” Dory said honestly. “It is hard to tell. There did seem to be tension between Prudence and Rose, and apparently, Annabelle did see Fredrick Summerfield romantically at some point in the past. If anyone would be jealous of Fredrick marrying Cornelia, it would be her. I don’t think any of them can be dismissed as potentially responsible at the moment.”

  “No, we’ll likely not get a true picture until all the girls have had their say. Then we will see what matches and what doesn’t. They may not admit their own tension, but I’d be surprised if they weren’t more open about the other girls.”

  Mr. Holmes appeared at the door. “Supper is ready to serve,” he said in his typical deferential voice.

  “Good. I’m starving,” Livinia said and rose first.

  Dining with the family was an added level of discomfort, but Mr. Holmes was helped by two maids Dory had never seen before. It made it somewhat easier. And she was eating Aunt Gladys’ food. She hadn’t had a chance to go downstairs and see her aunt, but she would later once supper was finished.

  “The Times predicts that Labour will win the election,” Cedric said as they sat down.

  “The Times is always wrong,” Lord Wallisford said. “There is too much goodwill toward Churchill to bet on someone unproven. A steady hand at the helm is needed now more than ever.”

  “They say people fear high unemployment.”

  “High unemployment?” Lord Wallisford blustered. “There are more jobs than ever and fewer men to take them. We still cannot find a new estate overseer. There simply aren’t men to be had.”

  “Can we please not talk about something as dreary as politics?” Livinia pleaded.

  Dory was actually quite interested, not that she entirely trusted Lord Wallisford’s opinion, because she remembered a time when he hadn’t been so disparaging of Hitler’s policies. And many of his friends had been downright complimentary about the tyrant. That was before the war. Their tunes had likely changed, but Dory remembered. It seemed such a very long time ago. It had been a different world then, but honestly, very little seemed to have changed at Wallisford Hall.

  The meal was wonderful. The estate had never suffered so much with the constrictions of rations during the war, because they had so much to hunt, grow and rear from the land. Gladys had at times sent parcels of ham, pickles and conserves. The strawberry conserve had been particularly appreciated during the cold, dark months of winter. A generosity they would always be grateful to the family for. Although Dory wasn’t sure how aware the Wallisford family was about this generosity.

  Rhubarb pie was served for dessert and it was heavenly. Always the taste of summer, in Dory’s book.

  “No, we must speak again after you’ve talked to these other two girls,” Lady Pettifer said as they returned to the salon after supper for a digestive.

  “Constance, you really shouldn’t meddle in such things,” Lord Wallisford said, “and let the police handle it. It is their job, after all.”

  It was interesting to Dory that even Lady Pettifer was told such concerns were none of her affair, and that they were wasting everyone’s time.

  “I would, dear brother, if I had any assurance that the police could do it. I’m afraid I don’t. A policeman is hardly going to understand the delicate and nuanced relationship between girls.”

  “Yes, really, daddy. That man is a positive imbecile. And no one deserves what happened to Corny.”

  “The man has better things to do than to chase down every petty squabble between a bunch of girls.”

  “Well, those petty squabbles likely got one of those girls killed,” Lady Pettifer stated.

  The man harrumphed and returned yet again to his paper.

  Dory was presented with a small glass of sherry and nodded her thanks to Mr. Holmes.

  “We’ll go in the morning,” Livinia said and then we’ll see where we are.

  They talked no more about it and Livinia spoke to Cedric about some house party they had coming up. When the conversation veered away from Cornelia Vellsted, Dory made her excuses, but instead of going upstairs, she went to the butler’s pantry and down the stairs to the servants’ area below.

  They had finished their supper and were enjoying the quiet hours of the evening. Mr. Holmes sat smoking his pipe. The maids were stepping outside for a quick evening’s walk, whispering between themselves. They seemed so very young, but Dory supposed they weren’t much younger than she had been when she’d first arrived .

  “Gladys,” she said brightly as she saw her aunt.

  “Mr. Holmes told me you were here, and that you are staying the night.”

  “We are investigating a murder,” Dory said as she sat down at the downstairs table with her aunt, who pulled out a bottle of gin and brought two glasses to the table. It wasn’t the first one Dory had had that day. More than one of these glasses and she would sleep very soundly.


  “You and your investigations,” Gladys said dismissively.

  “I cannot help it that people keep being murdered, but I have learnt that if someone doesn’t do something about it, there’s a good chance the culprit goes unpunished. And with this one, the police have no chance.”

  “That poor girl killed in the wedding dress,” Gladys said.

  “I am sure it was one of the bridesmaids, but the police are utterly ham-handed when it comes to dealing with it. They don’t even speak the same language as these girls.”

  “I’d say,” Mr. Holmes said. Apparently he’d been listening. “Girls like that have their own conventions. They are a force unto themselves. I can imagine them running rings around some flatfooted policeman.”

  “Unfortunately it’s true. Even I can barely make heads or tails of what they mean when they speak. It is really Livinia who is investigating.”

  “She’d be the best one for it in this case,” Mr. Holmes said. “Provided she doesn’t lose interest.” Both Glady and Mr. Holmes had known all the Wallisford children since the time they were born. Maybe. Dory wasn’t entirely sure, but she assumed so. Either way, they knew a great deal about the people who lived in this house and the guests who came to stay. One picked up all sorts of things when one tended their fires, brought them whatever they wanted and cleaned up after them.

  “Anyway, we will go speak to the other two girls and see what they say. If nothing else, we might be able to discover a direction to guide the police toward. Although he seemed a rude and unreasonable man. DI Capshaw his name is. Ridley seems to think he is a skilled investigator, but these girls, they don’t always mean what they say and the other way around.”

  “The best way to understand these girls is to understand what it is they want,” Mr. Holmes said. “Irrespective of that. Provide them with what they want and they’re happy.”

  “And what brings one of them to murder?” Dory asked.

  “Hell if I know, Dory. I didn’t even suspect Lady Wallisford could have done what she did to Miss Sands.” Mr. Holmes was rarely that informal with her, but it seemed their relationship was changing.

  “She was protecting Cedric at the end of the day,” Gladys said. “In a very unreasonable way.”

  “It is that base want that you need to find if you wish to solve this murder,” Mr. Holmes added. “What it was this person wished to achieve. These girls are not raised to be impulsive.”

  Dory considered the words, trying to make them fit. In her gut, she felt it was sage advice. They had been searching for tensions, but maybe they needed to look deeper.

  Chapter 14

  IN THE END, DORY COULD have gone home, because they traced Prudence Marsh down to her London apartment.

  “I wonder why she’s staying here,” Livinia said, looking up at the red brick apartment building. The façade was ornate, but Dory couldn’t tell when it had been built. “Why stay in London over the summer?”

  Even Dory knew that London was a no-go zone in summer. Hot and dirty, when a refreshing summer’s day in the country was the normal choice. A nice summers day in Swanley was infinitely preferred to a hot, smelly day in London.

  “Alright let’s go speak to her,” Livinia said.

  “Is she expecting us?”

  “Yes, I spoke to her this morning.”

  The door was black and heavily lacquered. Dory could barely hold it open it was so heavy, leading into a marble staircase. It was a nice building. They took the stairs up to the first floor and Livinia rang the bell.

  Prue opened the door. Dory remembered what she looked like from the atelier, but she looked quite different when not pale and drawn as she had been. “Livinia, darling,” she said. “Oh and... what was your name again?”

  “Dorothy.” Dory smiled as they were led in. It was surprisingly cool in there. Perhaps it was all the marble and brick that made it cool. And the open, large windows.

  “Marvelous apartment,” Livinia said. Black and white seemed to be the predominant color scheme.

  “Yes, Father bought it a few years ago. Just before the war, actually. Would you like some tea?”

  “Tea would be nice,” Livinia said as she sat down in the plush sofa Prue indicated to. Dory joined her. “We saw Freddy the other day. Such courage in face of this adversity.”

  Prue didn’t seem to engage her facial expressions for a moment. “It has been hard for everyone. Freddy is very brave.”

  A lush curl fell across her face and she flung it back. They had entirely different hairstyles from what Dory was used to seeing—softer and less pinned. Shorter too. Normally, these girls engaged with an entirely different fashion sense. They truly lived in a different world. She was very pretty, Dory had to concede. Although perhaps less noticeably so than Cornelia Vellsted.

  “It is such an awful thing that happened,” Livinia said.

  The tea arrived and Dory hadn’t even remembered them asking for it. Prudence served. “Yes, quite the shock for everyone involved.”

  “I understand Cornelia and Fredrick were engaged for quite a long time. Do you know why they took so long to marry?” Dory asked and Prudence stared at her for a moment.

  “Well, perhaps they weren’t sure,” Prudence said.

  “Sure about what, exactly?” Livinia asked.

  Prudence shrugged and took her tea. “It is a big commitment after all, isn’t it?”

  “Do you think it was more Fredrick or Cornelia that was reticent?” Dory asked.

  “Well, it’s always the man, isn’t it? Men are always more timid when it comes to marriage.”

  Ridley hadn’t been. After making his mind up, he hadn’t wasted any time asking her. “So Fredrick was perhaps a little hesitant,” Dory said.

  “I don’t know if he was hesitant as such,” Prudence said with a smile. “I just don’t think he saw a particular hurry. Who’s in a hurry these days?”

  “They were sleeping together?” Livinia asked.

  Prudence shrugged. “Of course,” she said awkwardly.

  “Do you think there was a chance she was pregnant?” Dory asked.

  “No, not really. Fredrick was always very careful.”

  “Someone mentioned there was tension between Rose and Corny,” Livinia said and Dory knew no one had said so exactly.

  “Well, Rose was always jealous of Corny,” Prue admitted. “It’s no secret. Corny had that force of personality that Rose didn’t. Everyone who knows her, knows that.”

  Dory didn’t know if that was supposed to be a dig at Livinia. It was so hard to tell, but Livinia didn’t seem offended.

  “Corny got what Corny wanted,” Prudence finished.

  “And by that you mean Freddy,” Livinia said. “And a spectacular wedding. That was some dress she was wearing. It would have been the wedding of the year. Freddy Summerfield and Cornelia Vellsted.”

  “Yes,” was all Prudence said and she looked away. For a moment, it seemed as if sadness overcame her.

  “Did she design the dress?” Dory asked.

  “Oh, yes, she’d been planning that dress for years.”

  “Huh,” Livinia said. “Rose more or less took credit for it.”

  “Rose?” Prudence said with a snort. “That dress isn’t Rose’s taste at all.”

  “In fact, Rose said Corny had the most horrendous fashion sense and that she only looked good because she threw money at the best designers in London. Honestly, I think it sounded a little like sour grapes.”

  “You know that Rose was always jealous of Corny,” Prudence finally said. “Even back at school. She would find little ways of sabotaging Cornelia’s things. One time, she poured paraffin in Corny’s perfume. It literally stunk to high heaven. Corny thought it had gone off, of course.”

  In no way did Dory understand this behavior, or the jealousy that drove it. She’d certainly admired other people’s new clothes, but never to the point where she wished to sabotage another person.

  “It was a prank, of course,” Pruden
ce continued, as if changing her mind about the confession. “We laughed about it.”

  “But Corny never found out?”

  “No, of course not. She would have been livid. That perfume had been bought in Paris before the war. Honestly, I don’t think the perfumery exists anymore.”

  “Now Annabelle and Freddy were seeing each other a while back,” Livinia said.

  “That was ages ago. Annabelle simply doesn’t have what it takes to keep Freddy’s attention. She is such a sweet girl, but so ill-suited to someone like him.”

  “Cornelia suited him better?” Dory asked.

  Prudence turned her head to look at her. For a moment, it looked as if she didn’t know what to say. “Yes,” she finally said. “Corny had her shortcomings, but nothing Freddy couldn’t overlook.” She checked her delicate gold wristwatch. “Oh dear, look at the time. I must go.”

  “It’s unusual you being in London this time of year,” Livinia said.

  “Oh, I am heading out to Hargraves tomorrow,” Prudence said. “Just had some things I need to do. You know how it is.”

  “Of course,” Livinia said. “It was so nice to see you.” They kissed on the cheek as they rose.

  “And it was a pleasure to see you again, Miss…”

  “Sparks,” Dory filled in.

  “I take it you are marrying soon as well.”

  “Yes. Quite soon.”

  “A dashing policeman,” Livinia added.

  Dory hadn’t known Livinia thought Ridley dashing, but then she didn’t really know what was true of what Livinia said. Even less so for Prudence.

  Saying goodbye, they left, their steps echoing off the marble of the stairway down. Prudence was watching them from the window above as they got in the car.

  “What could she possibly have to do in London this time of year? No one is here,” Livinia said.

  “Was it just me or did there seem to be some animosity between Prue and Rose?”

  “She wasn’t exactly singing Corny’s praises either,” Livinia said as she pulled sharply away from the curb.

  Something about what Prudence had said bothered Dory, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. “Other than saying she had a forceful personality, she didn’t say anything much complimentary about Cornelia Vellsted, did she?”