Songbird

by Bell, Julia

  Emily regained consciousness and started to whimper. Soaked and shaking uncontrollably I clung to my children, holding them as if we were still bound together in a life and death struggle, kissing the mud-spattered hair plastered to their heads. All the household had come running to help, lords, ladies and servants alike and blankets were put round us.

  I heard Abigail’s hysterical crying and looking up I saw her clinging to her mother’s skirt. Her ladyship was trying to comfort her.

  “It was all my fault, Mama. I swung on the rope and knocked them into the river and Mrs Asquith had to jump in and save them.” Tears were streaming down her cheeks. “Please don’t be cross with me. I’m so…sorry.”

  Brett shook his head in despair at her behaviour and then took charge of the situation. “Come on, let’s get you indoors.” He gathered his daughter in his arms and shouted to Nelly. “Run on ahead and prepare hot baths. They need to get warmed as soon as possible.”

  I saw her scamper towards the house as if her life depended on it.

  Eloise put her arm round me. “Take it steady,” she said gently. “You weren’t in the water too long, so feeling should return very soon.”

  Lord Waltham helped Danny to his feet, but I held onto my son’s hand, reluctant to let him go for a moment.

  It was absolute bliss being in the warmth of the house and even better when I immersed myself in a tub of steaming water by the blazing fire. I felt pain for a short time as the cold in my skin slowly dispersed, but then it was sheer enjoyment.

  Nelly fussed about me as usual. “Nanny Pearson is sorting out the children,” she told me. “But I think they’ll recover very quickly. Doctor is coming out to see you all.” She frowned at me. “It’s best that he gives you the once over. Especially Lady Emily.”

  I suddenly remembered. “How is she? Is it a serious injury?”

  “No. She has a gash on her forehead, but it’ll heal, no doubt.”

  I remembered my desperate thoughts while in the icy water. My terrible decision to let her go, to let her slip below the water to her death. How could the idea have entered my head? How could I have ever contemplated letting my little girl die? What a dreadful mother I must be. An overwhelming feeling of guilt swept over me and I couldn’t hold back the tears. They trickled down my face, salty tears falling into scented water.

  “We could have died,” I sobbed. “My…the children could have died.”

  Nelly fetched the towel and I stood while she wrapped it round me. “Don’t go fretting over it, ma’am. It turned out all right. Lady Abigail came running back to the house and ran screaming into the billiard room for her papa. The gentlemen jumped into action immediately. You must have been in the water only ten minutes if that.”

  “It’s still long enough to drown.”

  “But you didn’t and we must thank God for it.”

  Twenty minutes later the doctor arrived and gave me a cursory examination. He asked if I had swallowed any water, but I had to admit I couldn’t remember. He listened to my lungs and pronounced them clear. After he had left, I dressed, left my room and immediately collided with Danny who had taken his bath in the nursery under the direction of Nanny Pearson.

  I caught him by the shoulders. “Are you all right? Has the doctor seen you?” I asked, studying him from head to toe.

  “Yes, Mama. The doctor said I was all right, but Emily has been put to bed and she wants to see you.”

  I walked with him to Emily’s room and was pleased to see her tucked under the covers, her face bright and cheerful, despite the dressing on her forehead. Brett and Angelique stood by her bedside and their eyes turned in my direction as I entered the room. He smiled sadly, she stared at me as though in a daze. Nanny Pearson stood nearby.

  Emily held out her arms to me. “I don’t remember falling in the water, but Danny said you hung onto me. Oh, thank you for saving me.”

  I knelt down by the side of the bed and took her in my arms. “I was trying to save us all. Thank goodness your papa and the other brave gentlemen came to help us. But you must get yourself better.” I glanced up at Brett’s tender expression.

  “The doctor says she’ll be up and about in no time,” he smiled.

  “It’s all too much to bear,” said Lady Shelbrook, placing her hand over her brow. “I’ll have nightmares for weeks to come.”

  I didn’t answer because I couldn’t.

  Three days later we left for home. It was a sad farewell and yet I was happy to be on our way. Eloise accompanied us to the station in Basingstoke and waved us off, promising that she would keep in touch and we would receive an invitation for a summer visit to Claythorpe House. I made no comment about that.

  We had managed a trip to the Christmas fair since Emily’s recovery had been swift. It was a very enjoyable afternoon and seeing the children screaming with delight on the roundabout and swings, assured us that all was well. And as for Lady Abigail? Never had I seen such a rapid change in a child. The utter shock of realising that her wilful behaviour might have cost the lives of an adult and two children had caused a complete change in her character. She was no longer the sullen, arrogant, almost spiteful little girl she had been. By the time we left, she was a pleasant, smiling child, who was strangely obedient. I wondered if it would last. I didn’t think it would. But I strongly believed that it would be a shame for her to lose her feisty nature or her resolute willpower.

  Many years later, I was to be very grateful for them.

  I said goodbye to everyone with a sad heart, my only solace was that I needed to go home, for I yearned to see Nan and Diamond again. And I longed to be back in the theatre, singing on the stage for Andrew Perry. The activity outside the house made it appear like a coaching tavern, with many travellers setting off on their various journeys and as our trunks and bags were loaded Brett searched me out, holding Emily’s hand.

  “May I visit you when I’m in London?”

  “Maybe,” I answered, kneeling to give my daughter one final kiss and hug.

  “Only maybe? Then will you write?”

  His wife came towards us and I rose to my feet quickly, while Brett moved away to talk to the other departing guests.

  “It’s been a very fraught time, Mrs Asquith. To think that our little Emily could have been drowned in that icy river.” She shivered to emphasise the point. “I do hope your son finds great pleasure in Lord Shelbrook’s gift of the foal,” her ladyship continued. “I think my husband can be the most generous of men at times.” I was stunned. Brett had gifted the foal! I looked at Brett but he was saying his farewells to Lord and Lady Waltham. “Oui, I’ll get your address from Mrs Babbington if I may and I would like to invite you to Standford Park in the summer. You must come, I won’t accept any excuses.”

  “I’d like that,” I stuttered, knowing it was completely out of the question.

  On the train journey home I was happy that Danny became absorbed in his book and left me to my thoughts. Brett had been very generous with the gift of an expensive foal. I must thank him. Even though he had wanted to remain anonymous, his wife had spilt the beans, so I should write to him. Yes, I should, but I knew I wouldn’t.

  When we arrived home, the welcome from Nan and Diamond was overwhelming. Had it been only seven days? It seemed impossible to believe, but sitting round the kitchen table, I told them about my visit, leaving out certain details that I thought necessary. Danny beamed as he told them about his new foal and Nan and Diamond, their eyes wide in astonishment, thought it a truly wonderful gift. Their news was more mundane. Nan had received three more commissions for wedding gowns in the spring and Diamond was ready for her opening night in the first week of January. She had enjoyed the rehearsals and when I tentatively asked about a certain person in the role of the mikado, she just winked and gave me a superior smile.

  The following day I caught a cab to Covent Garden. It was strange to be in the theatre again and as I walked through the building I nodded to the people who greeted me. Familia
r faces and familiar objects made me feel I was back where I belonged.

  Martha was delighted to see me. “Oh, Miss Barri. It’s wonderful to have you back.”

  “Have you missed me?”

  “Miss Gregson is all very well up to a point. But she can be quite vexing at times.”

  I knew that Simone Gregson, my understudy, could be irritable especially when she was feeling the pressure. But she had a good voice and would make an excellent opera diva some day. I sat at the dressing table and put on my makeup and then the wig. Martha helped me into my costume. Noise from outside made me turn round. Andrew burst through the door.

  “One day you’ll take that door off its hinges,” I said laughing.

  His grin spread from ear to ear. “I’ve waited all week to see your lovely face.” I gave him a withering look. He ignored me. “How was your short trip to the country?”

  “Very enjoyable.”

  “And how was Alastair and his short, dumpy wife?”

  “Don’t be so cruel,” I said, smacking his hand. “They were lovely and made me very welcome.”

  He pulled a comical face. “Did you give him my regards?”

  “Yes, I did. And I think he wants to get in touch.”

  “Oh, Lord!” He looked me up and down. “You look rather pale. Are you all right about tonight?”

  “I’m perfectly well and I’m looking forward to it.”

  “How about supper tonight?”

  “I don’t think so. I don’t want a conversation about a church, a ring and a honeymoon.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “The church and ring I like. But the honeymoon sounds…”

  Someone shouting his name, made him spin on his heels and then he was gone.

  Martha chuckled. “Miss Barri, you seem to be learning.”

  “About time,” I murmured, as a knock on the door told me that the curtain went up in five minutes and I must take my place.

  I glanced in the mirror, adjusted my wig and straightened my gown. I left the dressing room. My public awaited. It was time to earn my wages.

  It was the week after Danny’s ninth birthday. The weather was a little chilly as a cold wind blew from the north-east, but when the sun managed to put in an appearance, it was warm and comforting on our faces. Diamond had planted daffodils and tulips in our small back garden and the cascade of yellow and red petals nodded and danced in the breeze.

  Danny needed some new boots and so I decided to take advantage of the sunshine and go shopping with him. He always seemed to need new boots; he grew out of them so fast. We were gone for most of the morning and returned home just before luncheon. The trip had taken longer than necessary as we had travelled on the omnibus. Danny loved climbing the stairs to the top deck and sitting at the front where he could see the horses and pretend he was the driver, holding imaginary reins. My entreaties to go on the lower deck where it was more sheltered went unheeded.

  I was surprised to see a hansom cab waiting outside the front door of the house and as I put my key in the lock, the driver raised his hand to the brim of his hat and smiled. Visitors had obviously arrived and I wondered for whom.

  Diamond met us in the hallway, while we hung up our coats and put hats and gloves on the hall table. “Two gentlemen have come to see you, Issy. I’ve put them in the dining room.”

  “For me? Did they say what they wanted?”

  She shook her head and took Danny’s hand. “Come on, young man. Time for your luncheon.”

  I glanced in the mirror making sure my hair was neat, my dress tidy. I turned the door handle and stepped into the room. To my surprise, the first person I saw was Brett. He was standing by the window and a shock wave surged through me as he turned and smiled. Suddenly, I felt very self-conscious that he should be in my home.

  He came towards me. “My dear Isabelle. You look very well,” he said, taking my hand.

  “Thank you. I feel well.”

  Then I realised that someone else was in the room. He was standing to one side, a small, rather overweight man with a round face and many chins. His complexion was ruddy and his nose and cheeks were tinged blue. Oh dear, I thought, a man who likes his drink.

  He came forward and held out his hand. Brett made the introductions. “This is Mrs Isabelle Asquith, the lady I’ve told you so much about. Isabelle, this is Mr Ryder from Ryder and Son, Solicitors.”

  I felt bewildered. “Solicitors. Are you planning on suing me?”

  Brett grinned. “No, nothing like that.” His smile faded. “But we have come on a serious matter. Perhaps you’d better sit down.”

  He pulled out a chair and I made myself comfortable. They also took seats and Mr Ryder thrust his hand into a leather bag and pulled out a small stack of papers, tied with ribbon. My heart lurched in my chest. It must be about Emily. Now that I had met her, her father wanted me to sign a document confirming I had no rights over her and that I wouldn’t interfere in her life or demand contact with her. I looked at him and my eyes must have shown my distress. He understood, gave a slight smile and the merest shake of his head.

  “Perhaps you’d like to tell her, my lord?” said the solicitor solemnly. “And then I can take up the legal details.”

  Brett nodded and took my hand. “Isabelle, I’m sorry to have to tell you that Mrs Holland died ten days ago.” I let out a cry of pained surprise and he squeezed my hand. “I received a telegram from her maid, Jane, telling me that she had taken ill with diabetes. She wasn’t ill for long I’m relieved to say and I was at her bedside when she passed away.”

  I leaned my elbows on the table forcing back tears.

  “The poor lady.”

  The man sitting opposite us shuffled the papers, eager to get on with the business in hand.

  He cleared his throat. “Yes, very sad. Very sad, indeed.”

  “I’d like to attend her funeral. When is it and where?” I asked.

  Brett shook his head. “She’s already buried. Three days ago in the churchyard of St Peter’s. She didn’t want you to know about her illness or attend her funeral.”

  I felt horrified that I had missed saying farewell to a woman who had shown me such kindness.

  “But why not?” I almost lost my voice with the hurt I felt.

  “She didn’t want you to be distressed.” He sent a quick glance towards the solicitor and then bent his head closer to mine. “Perhaps we can talk about it later?” he whispered.

  I swallowed and didn’t know how to answer.

  “I think it better if we deal with the legal matters now,” said Mr Ryder. He seemed uneasy in my presence and fiddled with his collar and tie. “That’s if you feel up to it, Mrs Asquith?” I nodded, knowing I had no alternative but to hear what he had to say. He sifted through the documents. “Now then, as Mrs Holland’s solicitor and the joint executor of her estate, along with Lord Shelbrook here, I have to inform you that the dear, departed lady has left you her house and all chattels and furniture that go with the said property.”

  I stared at him in disbelief. “She’s left me her house?”

  Brett nodded. “She left bequests to friends and some charities she admired. Jane, her maid, also received a small legacy. But she felt the house should go to you.”

  “Why?”

  “Something else to talk about later,” he whispered.

  I stared at him and wondered why all this secrecy.

  Mr Ryder gave a gentle cough. “All I need is your signature on these papers transferring the ownership to you. It’s quite straightforward. His lordship says he’ll be happy to witness everything.” He sifted through the documents and passed one to me.

  I smiled at Brett; grateful he was there to help me. He smiled back. “Yes, of course,” I murmured.

  I spread the document on the table and read it carefully. And there it was in legal terms, stating that the property known as number fifteen Gibson Place, Ealing and owned by the late Mrs Rachel Holland…Rachel, I thought, I had never known her Christian name…was
now the legal property of Mrs Isabelle Asquith. I took the pen offered by Mr Ryder and signed my name and then Brett signed his alongside mine. We had to do the same with the copy that was then given to me.

  “There you are, my dear Mrs Asquith,” said the solicitor briskly. He pulled a large, silver watch from his pocket. “Goodness me, is it that time already? We must be going.” He collected his papers together and took a calling-card from his pocket. “This is my address, so if you need my services then please call at my offices. If you decide to let the property or sell it, I’ll be delighted to act for you.”

  “What about the keys to the house?” I asked timidly. For some reason, I felt embarrassed that Mrs Holland’s beautiful house now belonged to me.

  “Jane is still living there,” said Brett. “It might be a good idea to let her know your plans as soon as possible.”

  Mr Ryder eased his corpulent frame out of the chair and stood and Brett and I stood also. I showed them out to the hallway where they put on their coats and collected their hats and gloves. The solicitor gave me a hearty handshake and Brett raised my hand to his lips and kissed my fingers. And then they were through the door and climbing aboard the waiting cab. I stood on the doorstep and watched it roll over the cobblestones and down the street.

  I stayed in the hallway for a while, my back against the front door. Mrs Holland had died. How I wished I had been to visit her again. Why had I delayed? Now it was too late. An envelope on the hall table caught my attention. I picked it up and read Mrs Isabelle Asquith in bold letters on the front. I carried it into the dining room and tore it open.

  It was from Brett.

  My dear, sweet Isabelle,

  How I have missed you and how I have longed for a letter from you. Your silence saddened me but I accepted it in the full knowledge that I promised I would ask nothing of you. But now circumstances have forced my hand and I find I must call on you at your home.