‘Matron Lennox told me that she thought you and I would be most compatible, Mrs Bell, and she felt sure that I could handle the job here easily.’ Audra levelled her blue eyes at the other woman, and ventured, ‘But she was vague about it. Perhaps you would be kind enough to give me a few more details, Mrs Bell.’
‘Good Lord, of course! I must fill you in, mustn’t I? Well now, let me see. As you know from Matron, you would be entirely responsible for our youngest child, Theo. Our only son. Our three daughters are almost grown up. The eldest, Pandora, lives at home. The younger two, Felicity and Antonia, are away at boarding school. Let me explain something, Miss Kenton. I go to business every day. I run the woollen mill I inherited from my father, I also have an exclusive ladies’ gown salon in Leeds. Paris Modes. I’m quite certain you must know it.’
Audra shook her head, looking regretful. ‘I’m sorry, I’m afraid I don’t, Mrs Bell. The only store I know in Leeds is Harte’s Emporium. I went there once with my friend Gwen.’
Mrs Bell said, ‘My dress shop is not as large as Emma Harte’s store. But my imported French gowns are beginning to rival those she sells in her Model Room at Harte’s. Even if I do say so myself. But to continue. Obviously, because I am out most of the day, I need a responsible person in charge of the nursery and the baby. A person such as yourself. As to your accommodation here, there is a lovely bedroom, large and comfortable, which overlooks the gardens. It’s on the nursery floor, has its own private bathroom. You would have one day off during the week, and every other Sunday. One week’s holiday a year. I would provide you with three cotton uniforms for summer, plus a summer coat and hat. The same amount of clothing for winter. Now, regarding the wages—’
Mrs Bell broke off at the sound of a knock, and glanced towards the door. It opened to admit a plump young maid, who rushed forward rather too quickly, pushing a laden tea trolley in front of her with great gusto.
‘Ah Cora, there you are at last!’ Mrs Bell exclaimed. ‘Do, please, be careful. Bring the trolley over here by the fire. This is Miss Kenton, Cora. Whom I sincerely hope will be joining us at Calpher House. As the new nanny.’
Cora and the tea trolley came to an abrupt stop with a rattling jolt. She stared at Audra, narrowing her eyes, squinting at her. Then, as if she had decided she liked the look of her, she smiled broadly, bobbed a half-curtsy. ‘Please ter meet yer, Miss,’ she said, and proceeded down the long stretch of Turkey carpet, handling the trolley with a kind of dangerous abandon.
Audra inclined her head graciously, and returned the maid’s smile. ‘Good afternoon, Cora,’ she replied, and cringed as she watched Cora’s perilous progress towards them. She hoped that nothing would go crashing to the floor, for the maid’s sake.
After coming to a shuddering halt, Cora positioned the trolley next to Mrs Bell, gave it a final little jiggle to straighten it, asked, ‘Do yer want me ter pour the ’ot chocolate then, ma’am?’
‘No, no, Cora, that’s all right, I can manage,’ Irène Bell replied swiftly, wincing at the thought. She dismissed Cora with a smile and a nod, lifted the silver jug and carefully filled two large breakfast cups, remarking, ‘We have a wonderful cook, Mrs Jackson, and the butler is Mr Agiter. I believe you saw Dodie, the other housemaid, when you arrived? Did she not open the door to you?’
‘Yes, she did, Mrs Bell.’ Audra rose and went over to the tea trolley, took the cup of hot chocolate which was being offered to her.
Irène Bell exclaimed, ‘Do, but do, try one of Cook’s hot Cornish pasties, Miss Kenton. They’re delicious. And quite renowned hereabouts.’
‘Thank you.’ Audra placed the cup of steamy, frothing chocolate on the antique mahogany table next to the sofa, put one of the meat turnovers on a plate and returned to her place.
Taking a sip of chocolate, Mrs Bell continued, ‘As I was about to say when Cora came in, your wages would be sixty pounds a year. This is an increase of ten pounds above what I paid the last nanny. Matron Lennox said it would not be fair of me to offer you anything less than sixty pounds. In view of your superior training at the hospital.’ Irène Bell now leaned forward intently. ‘Well, Miss Kenton, are you interested in taking the position, do you think?’ A perfect, pencilled brow lifted eloquently.
Audra was both startled and delighted at the amount of money she would be paid. She said, ‘I am interested, Mrs Bell, very much so. However, I would like to meet your little boy before I finally say yes.’ Audra gave her a forthright look, and her sudden smile was one of sweetness and sincerity. ‘I’m quite positive I will like him, but I do want to be sure he likes me.’
‘What a lovely sentiment, Miss Kenton. And I’m overjoyed, simply overjoyed, that you’re going to join our little family.’ Irène Bell’s face, always mobile and expressive, now filled with a mixture of relief and pleasure. Her merry laugh echoed around the room. ‘I know the baby will take to you. How could he not? He’s having his afternoon nap at the moment, but you shall meet him later. And before you leave I shall show you around Calpher House. And introduce you to the staff.’
***
The motor car slid to a standstill in front of the General Post Office in City Square.
A moment later the uniformed chauffeur was opening the rear door and helping Audra to alight. ‘Thank you so much, Robertson,’ she said, giving him an appreciative little smile.
‘It’s a pleasure, Miss. Good afternoon, Miss.’ He touched the neb of his peaked cap and hurried back to the driver’s seat.
Audra swung around and took a step towards Gwen, who was standing near the steps of the Post Office where they had arranged to meet.
Gwen’s eyes were out on stalks. Instantly recovering herself, she rushed forward to meet Audra. Grasping hold of her hands, she cried in a shrill, excited voice, ‘Well, aren’t we posh then! Rolling up in a fancy motor car. Imagine that!’
Audra could not help laughing at Gwen’s incredulity. Then she explained, ‘Mrs Bell kept me at Calpher House rather longer than I expected. I started to get a little nervous in the end. I didn’t want to be late, to have you standing waiting outside in the cold. So she sent me in the car.’
‘That was nice of her!’ Gwen exclaimed, obviously impressed not only by the car but by Mrs Bell as well. She peered into Audra’s face, and demanded, ‘Well, did you take the job then?’
‘Yes, Gwen, I did.’
‘Oh, lovey, I am glad!’ Gwen threw her arms around Audra, hugged her tightly. Audra hugged her back and the two of them clung to each other, did a happy little jig, and then began to laugh uproariously.
Their frivolity was interrupted by a masculine voice, which said, ‘They’ll be sending the wagon for you two next, the way you’re carrying on like a couple of lunatics, and in the middle of City Square, no less.’
‘Oh hello, Charlie,’ Gwen said, pulling away from Audra, looking up at her brother, who stood with his hands in his pockets, towering over them both, surveying them through amused eyes. ‘You’re right on time, I see.’
‘Aren’t I always?’ Charles Thornton grinned at his sister, then gave Audra a shy smile. ‘Hello, Audra,’ he said, unable to keep the look of adoration off his face. He thrust his hand at her.
Audra’s heart sank at the sight of Charlie, whom she had not expected to join them for the evening, as he no doubt had. She had wanted to be alone with Gwen. They hadn’t seen each other for several weeks and they had a number of things to talk about, especially now that she had taken the job with the Bells.
‘Hello,’ Audra responded in her quiet way, taking his hand, glad she was wearing her gloves. Charlie always had such clammy hands, even in the cold weather. Audra found this unfortunate physical trait dismaying and distasteful. She liked Charlie well enough as a person but she had no wish to have him as her boyfriend. This was Gwen’s hope though, and she was forever pushing Charlie at her. Audra fervently wished she would stop doing it. Charlie Thornton was not her type at all. It was not that he was unattractive, because he wasn’t. He was
tall, well built, with broad shoulders, very masculine really, although Audra suspected he would become flabby as he grew older. He had blond hair, a fair complexion and friendly grey eyes. His face, like his personality, was bland. Audra could not help thinking that he was soppy in certain ways, and most of the time she found him dreadfully dull. She supposed he was a good person, very worthy, and yet instinctively she knew he was a weak man.
Gwen volunteered, ‘Charlie’s taking us to the pictures later, Audra. He’s treating us. We’re going to the Rialto in Briggate to see the new Mary Pickford picture. Isn’t that nice of him?’
‘Oh yes it is,’ Audra was quick to agree and forced a smile.
Taking charge as usual, Gwen rushed on, ‘Well, don’t let’s stand here like three sucking ducks gawping at each other. We’ve an hour to waste before we go to the pictures, so let’s toddle along to Betty’s and have a nice cup of tea.’
Audra and Charlie readily agreed.
It had turned even chillier and the snow that had threatened throughout the day began to fall in small fluttering flakes, settling on the ground. The light was being squeezed out of the lowering sky as dusk descended rapidly. Charlie took hold of the girls’ arms and hurried them across City Square in the direction of Commercial Street where the café was located. As they turned into the street they all three stopped abruptly, staring into the windows of Harte’s department store, captivated by what they saw. The windows had been dressed for Christmas and they were dazzling in the gathering twilight, filled with twinkling coloured lights and glittering scenes depicting different fairy tales. One window was devoted to Cinderella, showed her arriving at the ball in her shimmering glass coach, another to Hansel and Gretel, who stood outside the gingerbread house, and yet a third paid tribute to The Snow Queen in all her icy glory.
‘How beautiful they are,’ Audra murmured, lingering a moment longer than the other two, thinking of High Cleugh and the glorious Christmases of her childhood.
‘Yes, aren’t they just,’ Gwen said, tugging at her. ‘Come on, lovey, the snow’s really coming down now. We’re going to be soaked before we know it.’
Gwen tucked her arm through Audra’s and kept up a continual stream of conversation as they walked down Commercial Street, living up to her reputation as a chatterbox. Charlie, trudging along on the other side of Audra, interjected a few comments, but Audra remained silent—and reflective.
She was suddenly feeling mean and uncharitable for having had such unkind thoughts about Charlie, who was harmless really, and meant well. All of the Thorntons meant well, and they had all been very good to her. Mrs Thornton was forever telling her to consider The Meadow her home, and she had even turned the little box room at the end of the second-floor landing into a bedroom for her. Mrs Thornton had insisted she keep a few clothes there, and when she had visited Gwen in November she had left behind some toilet articles and a nightgown, which she would be able to use tonight.
Next week she was coming back to Horsforth to spend Christmas with Gwen, and she was well aware that the Thorntons would make her feel like a part of the family, truly one of them, as they always did. They had such a wealth of generosity and kindness in them. And I’m very ungrateful, Audra chastised herself. She knew how much it would please Gwen if she were nice to Charlie, and so she resolved to be pleasant to him, but without leading him on, giving him the wrong impression. He must not misunderstand. That would be disastrous. And after the holidays she was going to explain to Gwen, in the gentlest and kindest possible way, that she was not looking for a husband.
CHAPTER 8
It was a very cold morning. Icy.
Perhaps it would turn out to be the coldest day of the winter after all, Audra thought, just as the gardener had warned yesterday when she had been returning from her walk. He had put down his wheelbarrow and looked up at the sky, narrowing his eyes and sniffing, as if he had a way of divining such things in this arcane manner.
And then he had made his prediction. ‘Yer’ll be nithered ter death termorra, Miss Audra. T’weather’s coming in bad from t’North Sea. Arctic weather, mark my words, lass.’
She had never been to the Arctic Circle, but she did not imagine it could be any colder than her bedroom at this moment. It was freezing, and it seemed to Audra that her nose, peeping over the bedcovers, had turned into an icicle. An Arctic icicle.
She slithered further down in the bed, hunching the covers up over her shoulders, almost obscuring her face entirely, revelling in the warmth of the quilt. It was filled with the down of the eider duck; Mr and Mrs Bell had purchased a baker’s dozen of these quilts when they had been on holiday in Munich several years before.
Mrs Bell had told Audra this when she had come to work at Calpher House, had gone on to explain that the sheet under the quilt was the only other piece of bed linen required. Irène Bell had also cautioned Audra not to wear her thick flannel nightgown, but to discard it in favour of a cotton garment. Although she had nodded her understanding, she had not been absolutely certain that she really understood at all. But later that night, at bed time, she had done as she had been bidden earlier in the day, and within ten minutes of being in bed she had begun to feel a lovely sensation of warmth permeating her whole body. The heat generated by the quilt was extraordinary, something quite amazing to Audra, and she realized that Mrs Bell had been correct about the cotton nightie. Anything else would have been far too hot.
She smiled to herself now, remembering her first night here, and then swivelled her eyes to the clock on the mahogany chest as it began to chime. It was only six but this did not surprise her in the least. She was accustomed to awakening at this hour. It was an old habit left over from her years at the hospital in Ripon. Fortunately the routine was not so rigorous here at Calpher House, and she could stay in bed until seven, even a bit later if she wished.
Audra had truly come to cherish this dawn hour when all the family were asleep and no one was about except for the servants downstairs. She thought of it as her own special and private time, enjoyed the luxury of lingering in her downy cocoon, without having the need to rush, idly drifting with her diverse thoughts… and sometimes day-dreaming about the future.
And the future seemed decidedly rosy to Audra on this December morning of 1927.
Certainly the years stretching ahead could not be any worse than the five years which had preceded her arrival at Calpher House, she frequently told herself these days. Naturally optimistic, she always looked at things in the most positive way, anticipating the best. She also expected the best from people, despite her distressing experiences with her Aunt Alicia Drummond. Burying the dreadful hurt she had suffered at the hands of that inhuman woman, she would remind herself that not everyone was cruel, selfish or dishonest, that the world did have its ample share of kindly folk. And the Bells and their staff at Calpher House had helped to reinforce this belief in Audra. She had been made to feel welcome from the very first day, and she never once forgot how fortunate she had been to find such a congenial place to work.
It was exactly one year ago today that she had started here as the nanny.
From the first moment she had stepped into this house Audra had felt as if she belonged here. It was as if she had returned after a long journey to a place she had always known. In a way it had been like coming home… home to High Cleugh. It was not that Calpher House resembled her beloved former home; as houses they were entirely different in architecture and furnishings. What she had found so familiar, had recognized with such clarity, was the presence of love within these walls.
For the most part, it was the happiest year that Audra had spent since her mother had died and tragedy had struck their little family.
She fitted in well at Calpher House.
Because of her upbringing, her disposition and personality, everyone found her a pleasure to be around, and she was popular upstairs and downstairs. The Bells were kind and considerate; the servants treated her with a deference and respect that was marked
by friendliness.
After years of frugality and spartan living at the hospital, she was now surrounded by enormous luxury and comfort, the likes of which she had never known even at High Cleugh, where money for anything other than the real essentials had been fairly scarce most of the time. All of their pleasant little extras had come from Uncle Peter.
The Bells were successful, affluent people and they could afford the very best. And because of Mrs Bell’s generous nature there was an overabundance of everything.
Wonderfully delicious meals emerged from Mrs Jackson’s amazing kitchen. She was a gourmet cook, and Audra also got a chance to taste such delicacies as pâté de foie gras, caviar and smoked salmon. Crystal dishes of bon-bons and nuts and Turkish Delight were scattered across small occasional tables in the elegant blue living room, for anyone to nibble on who wished, and even the everyday nursery meals could hardly be called everyday because of the way they tasted. Such things as steak-and-kidney pudding, apple dumplings, bacon-and-egg pie, Irish stew, and pork, beef and lamb roasts all had the most distinctive, mouth-watering flavours. As far as Audra was concerned, Cook was the first person to rival her mother in a kitchen; Mrs Jackson was forever coming up with something extra-special to tempt their palates. Audra’s favourites were Little Pigs of Heaven, a warm chocolate dessert that literally melted in the mouth, and Bandit’s Joy, a hot potato dish flavoured with honey and nutmeg that made a perfect accompaniment to saddle of mutton, and she had asked Mrs Jackson for the recipes for these dishes. On very special occasions, Mr Agiter, the butler, had been instructed by Mr Bell to serve her a glass of sparkling, ice-cold champagne. But she was already familiar with this wine, since it had not been out of the ordinary for her Uncle Peter to bring a bottle to celebrate her mother’s birthday, or for Christmas Day at High Cleugh. She and Frederick and William had always been allowed one small glass by their mother.
Act of Will Page 8