Paying Guests

by Claire Rayner

  ‘How do you know he wasn’t?’ Tilly said, wanting to comfort him if she could.

  ‘Euphonia told me, when it all came out – oh, I was so easily led by the nose, I should be shot!’

  ‘No, Duff, don’t you speak so! That is so – if you did not recognize villainy when you saw it, it is because you have a sweet and honest soul yourself. It is a credit to you that he could dupe you as he did, not to your discredit.’ She sounded as passionate as he had, kneeling in front of him now and holding both his hands tightly. ‘If you have been duped by Patrick Paton, then it speaks ill of him, not you.’

  ‘Thank you, Mamma.’ He managed, amazingly, a sort of grin. ‘It is sweet of you to try to comfort me, but I know what I know.’

  ‘You do not,’ she said stoutly. ‘You know only that you set yourself high standards and they do not. So this hateful Patrick wooed Sophie, I take it.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘To – to annoy his father? It seems a childish thing to do.’

  ‘Childish?’ Duff opened his eyes wide at that. ‘How can it be childish to make love to a beautiful girl who is spoken for by someone else? I know of no child who would behave so.’

  ‘Trying to score over your parents sounds childish to me,’ Tilly said. ‘The duke sounds childish in himself, dangling after a girl as young as Sophie. I am sure she scorned him.’ She was sure of nothing of the sort but she knew Duff needed to hear kind words about his beloved. Or thought he did. But she was wrong, for he reddened with anger and snapped at her.

  ‘Of course she did not! I should have seen more clearly from the start. She loved it! She thinks a man who is a duke is wonderful for all he is so disgustingly old, and has a face like a – like – a – so red and veined as to make one quite sick, and yellow teeth and a breath you can smell for half a mile!’

  Tilly couldn’t help it. She laughed at that. ‘Oh, Duff, is he really so dreadful?’

  ‘And worse!’ Duff said passionately. ‘And I hope his son looks the same in less than a twelvemonth and that she has to watch it happen and remember what might have been. For whatever else I am not – like a lord or a duke – I am not smelly and red-faced and disgusting.’

  ‘Oh, of course you are not, darling Duff,’ Tilly cried and hugged him again and wanted to laugh once more for in fact he himself had clearly not washed since his long journey home.

  She leaned back then and stared at him. ‘I am not sure,’ she said carefully, although she was, almost, ‘quite what happened. Are you telling me that Sophie and – and Patrick –’

  ‘Yes,’ Duff said and his voice was grim. ‘They have run away together. Left a set of letters as cool as you please, telling everyone that they have eloped to Paris and will be wed, and when the old duke dies, Patrick says, that will be soon enough to return to Paton, and then he writes to me that – that it is a pity he had no more intention of sending Abner Oakburton away when he succeeds to the title than flying to the moon, for he is an excellent agent who knows all there is to know about the estate, but that I might be able to find a berth as agent elsewhere for I seem to have some small aptitude for the work and might learn how to be an assistant in a few more years if I set my mind to it.’ He clenched his fists then. ‘If I could reach him now, I swear I would kill him!’ he cried and looked at Tilly with tragic eyes.

  ‘So that is why she did not answer my letters,’ she said slowly. ‘She had already decided she was never returning here –’

  ‘What is that?’ he said sharply, and she explained her offer to Sophie. He listened, dully, and then shook his head.

  ‘Patrick made a better offer,’ he said simply. ‘I hate him – I will hate him till I die –’

  She was trying very hard to think sensibly of what to say next; but it was not easy. She was filled – and she had to hide it very carefully – with elation. Sophie, gone out of her darling Duff’s life in a way that must surely mean she would never come back. If she did change her mind and not marry this Lord Patrick – which was clearly highly unlikely, for there could be no question that Sophie would find the prospect of one day becoming a duchess deeply gratifying – even if she did return he would spurn her. He was unhappy now, her secret voice was telling her, almost delirious with joy at the back of her mind, but he would forget that horrid minx soon and be glad he had escaped from her clutches. She felt almost giddy with relief.

  ‘I know what you are thinking, Ma,’ he said with a prescience that made her flush with embarrassment. ‘That you are glad and that we were too young and that Sophie is a bad person. But she is not bad. She is a little silly, I grant you. But I knew that. She is greedy, but I knew that too, and at least she is very honest about it. I prefer her clear delight in things and clothes and money and titles to the pretence some people make of being above such things. In time I would have taught her to be happy enough with what I had to offer. But Patrick has stolen my time from me and it is that which makes me so angry. But one day – you will see, Mamma. One day she’ll come back to me. She’ll have to. She belongs to me, you see. She has done since we were children.’

  He said it with a simplicity that made Tilly’s face burn hotly and she touched his cheek with one hand and said as carefully as she could, ‘I am sorry, dear one. Sorry that you are unhappy. I will not lie to you and say that I am sorry that – that there can be no wedding at present. I still believe that you are much too young to have made so important a decision, and have to find your way in the world first. But I am wretched to see you so sad and will do all I can to help you be happier.’

  ‘All I ask of you is that you do not – do not force me, Mamma. I will decide in my own time what career I wish to follow. In the meantime I ask only that you let me live here and help you in whatever way I may, and not to speak of what has passed. I will heal my own heart in my own way. I cannot – could not – bear a great deal of prosing in the matter.’

  He looked at her sternly and she wanted to laugh again for he looked so like his infant self, so much the four-year-old Duff telling her solemnly of his plans to make a lake in the garden which she must not on any account prevent.

  ‘Not a word, dear one. I shall have to explain to the others that Sophie will not be returning, but I dare say we shall think of some tale to satisfy them and keep them quiet.’

  ‘Say she has gone away to join a new dance company somewhere, and that I am lonely and so they must not speak to me of her,’ he said. ‘That much I can tolerate. But after that, I beg you, do not speak of me or of her to anyone here. They are but your customers after all.’

  She sat back on her heels again, a little chilled. ‘Customers? That sounds very – that does not sound at all agreeable.’

  ‘It’s what they are, though, isn’t it? Customers? We are in the trade of providing board and lodging here, are we not?’ He spoke harshly and some of her satisfaction evaporated. Clearly he had picked up more than pain at Paton. He had entrenched his notion of their own lowliness. And that would have to be put right, indeed it would. But all she said now, as she got to her feet and shook out her sadly creased gown, was, ‘Well, to me they will always be my guests. Paying guests, undeniably, but my guests all the same. I think I shall see where the maids are and arrange for a bath to be fetched up to your room. When you are washed and shaved and changed you will feel much more agreeable.’

  ‘Yes,’ he said wearily, ‘I dropped my baggage in the hall, and came straight here in search of you, since you were not in your morning room, and got no further.’ But he made no move to get up, still sitting staring at the flames. It was as though the spirit of him had suddenly left the room, leaving only his body behind. She looked down at him for a long moment and then went to the stairs.

  In the hall there was clear evidence that Polly had been hard at work, for the bannisters on the staircase shone particularly brightly and she thought inconsequentially, Oh dear! I promised to take her to the country again this week to see her brothers. We stayed so short a time when we last went, and this t
ime it must be for the whole day that we go, and now Duff is home and I wish I did not have to go.

  I’ll take him with me, she thought then. Yes, that will serve very well – give him something to think of; he can look after us on the train. And she reached for the bell to ring it.

  She heard it peal above stairs, on the maids’ floor high in the attics as well as down in the kitchen and waited and after a few moments there was a rattling of footsteps on the stairs and Polly peered down at her.

  ‘Oh, Missus,’ she said. ‘I di’n’t know you was back. Mrs Horace, she said to tell you as she wasn’t feeling the ticket and was havin’ a lie down and all was in hand for dinner and not to fret none.’

  ‘Eliza, not well?’ Tilly was immediately anxious. ‘She is in her room?’

  ‘Yes, Missus.’

  ‘I shall go and see her. But now, you go up to Lucy or Rosie, I don’t care which, and tell them Mr Duff has come home and wants a bath in his room and they are to help him unpack. At once – away with you now.’

  ‘Yes, Missus,’ Polly said and her head vanished and Tilly called, as an afterthought, ‘And we shall ask Mr Duff to come with us to see your brothers.’

  The rumpled head reappeared, the face this time split into a huge grin. ‘Cor!’ said Polly. That’ll be ‘andsome, that will!’ And vanished again.

  Tilly, still in a turmoil over her son, was now filled up with even more anxiety as she hurried back to Eliza’s room alongside the kitchen to see what was wrong with her. She was past the time of her pregnancy when there was any risk to her or to her child, surely? Tilly’s memory was hazy on such matters, but she seemed to recall that the first three months were the hazardous ones, and once past that no one need fret unduly, unless the mother got severely enlarged or had fits, in which case there was very good cause for anxiety. Had Eliza had a fit? Certainly she had been looking more and more enlarged for some time now.

  And she scratched on Eliza’s door and waited anxiously, her ear to the panels, for an answer.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  IT CAME SLOWLY. She had to scratch on the panels twice more and then at last heard a drowsy ‘Mmm?’ and, waiting no longer, turned the door handle and walked in.

  Eliza was lying on her bed fully dressed, but for her boots which were on the floor beside her. She looked blowzy and heavy-eyed as she stared at Tilly, clearly still befuddled with sleep, and then seemed to come to her senses fully and almost leapt off the bed.

  ‘Oh, bless my soul, what time is it? I only laid my head down for a minute or so and then – oh.’ She stood for a moment swaying, and then sat down hard again on her bed, and stared at Tilly with an expression of surprise on her face.

  ‘My dear Eliza, what is it?’ Tilly cried, thoroughly alarmed, and Eliza shook her head as if to clear it and then did so again before speaking carefully.

  ‘I’m all right, Mum, I think. I just felt a bit light-headed there for a moment or two. Stood up too fast, I shouldn’t wonder.’

  ‘Then lie down again at once!’ Tilly instructed, but Eliza waved a hand in refusal.

  ‘I’ll get over it the sooner if I sit up, Mum. Give me just a second or two.’

  Tilly came further into the room, leaving the door open behind her. The kitchen was empty, for Duff had obediently gone upstairs to his room, and there was just the two of them.

  ‘Are you all right, Eliza?’ Tilly said sharply. ‘You are not suffering from any bleeding or anything that might make us fear?’

  Eliza, still sitting with her head held in the awkward manner of one who perceives the world as spinning round her, managed a smile. ‘No need to fear for the baby, Mum,’ she said and managed to set one hand protectively on her belly. ‘That’s as firm as a rock. It’s my own fault really –’ She took a deep breath, seeming to begin to regain her balance. ‘I been worryin’ too much, and lyin’ awake o’ nights in consequence. I should have more sense –’

  ‘Worrying?’

  ‘About next door, to tell the truth, Mum. I try to keep a brave front just like you do, I’m sure, but I can’t help it. One minute I think it’ll all be all right, stop fussing, woman, I says to myself, and the next, well, I keep imagining all sorts goin’ on there to spoil our life here. It’s all so good, ‘n’t it, Mum? Us and our guests and all so happy – and there she sits like – like some sort of spider just waitin’ and us not knowin’ what way she’ll jump.’

  ‘Do spiders jump, Eliza?’ Tilly said absurdly and came to sit down on the bed beside her. ‘You see how foolish you are? She is not, in fact, there in the house, but away somewhere, perhaps even abroad – or so she told me in her letter. I cannot see why you should think of her in such a manner. There is no sense in worrying yourself into illness, now is there?’

  ‘That’s as may be,’ Eliza said. ‘But you do it – I’ve watched your face and I know what you’re thinkin’ and it’s not possible for me not to worry when you do. We’ve got all our lovely plans for us and the future and – and this woman and her house – oh, if only somethin’ would happen to scare her away! I keep havin’ these imaginings, you know? I think – suppose the house was spoiled in some way and made impossible for her to fix up. Wouldn’t she be glad to sell it to you then at a low price just to be rid of it? I know you’ve been careful with money this long time, and we have such good reliable guests, you’d have no problems, I’m sure, in finding the money. Then you could fix it up as part of Quentin’s, couldn’t you? If you was to buy it as it is, you’d have to pull out the heart of it anyway to make it fit in with us here as we are, wouldn’t you? So it wouldn’t be a difficulty for you if it was to catch fire inside like, would it? I think about that –’ She brooded for a moment. ‘I think about that a lot.’

  ‘Well, it isn’t going to catch fire or be spoiled inside,’ Tilly said firmly. ‘So stop thinking such stuff. And even if it were, it is no doubt insured as is this establishment, so it would make no difference to Dorcas, so it is all a nonsense, a childish dream. You are having notions because of your condition, that’s all there is to it. I remember when I was heavy with Duff I was much the same. And here’s Duff home again and –’

  Eliza lifted her head and stared at her, her eyes huge with surprise. ‘Mr Duff here? Oh, Mum, has he come home? Why didn’t you say? Where is he then? Do let me see him.’ She struggled to her feet and pulled at her hair with slightly shaky fingers to smooth it and then scrabbled for her boots. ‘Here’s me lying here in a foolish megrim and Mr Duff home, what will he think of me? And so much to do for dinner, oh dear, oh dear.’

  ‘Eliza!’ Tilly protested as the other made for the door, pulling her skirts neatly in place and shooting her cuffs. ‘Please do rest! You’re in no state to –’

  ‘I’m very well indeed, thank you, Mum,’ Eliza said firmly. ‘It was just a momentary thing on account of I let myself fall asleep and ashamed indeed I am of it. I’m well rested now and feeling very bobbish indeed, thank you. And all the better for knowing Mr Duff is here.’

  Tilly followed her out into the short corridor that led to the kitchen proper and pulled the door closed behind her. Eliza went ahead of her into the kitchen to check her fire, and as Tilly reached her, was standing with her arms akimbo staring at the grate, which was burning merrily, as Polly crouched beside it, sweeping the hearth with a short brush. Tilly was surprised to see her, too; she had not heard her come into the kitchen.

  ‘Well, Miss, and what are you about?’ Eliza demanded. ‘Aren’t you supposed to be with that young imp o’ Satan o’ yours? Who’s looking to him, I’d like to know?’

  ‘Oh, he’s asleep, Mrs Horace,’ Polly said and looked over her shoulder and grinned cheekily. ‘Just like you was.’

  ‘Mind your tongue, minx,’ Eliza said but there was no malice in it. The two of them had, over the weeks, drifted into a comfortable sort of relationship which was marked by such sprightly exchanges. ‘You be away to him and see he’s all right, now. He’s your task, not my fires – where’s Lucy as oug
ht to be tending them?’

  ‘Missus sent her to help Mr Duff to unpack,’ Polly said and stood up and dusted her hands together. ‘I got to fetch up some hot water for ‘im, and I was just setting the fire ‘igher to get the kettle to boil the faster – ah! There we goes.’ And she hauled the kettle, which had begun to rattle its lid energetically, to the hot water jug standing on the hearth and filled it. She went into the kitchen then to refill the kettle from the pump, set it back on the fire and then picked up the steaming copper jug, which looked almost as tall as she was.

  ‘Now, don’t you go spilling that,’ Eliza said scoldingly. ‘Give it here – I’ll take it up to him.’

  ‘You’ll do nothing of the sort, Eliza,’ Tilly said sharply. ‘If Polly can’t manage it, then she shall go and fetch Rosie or Lucy to help her.’

  ‘I can manage well enough,’ Polly said and, indeed, seemed to have no trouble carrying the jug. She had set a folded towel over the top to hold the steam in and was already on her way to the stairs and the upper floors with it. ‘I’ll be back for another lot as soon as it’s boiled.’ And she went toiling away up the stairs leaving them both in the kitchen.

  ‘I’ll have to wait till he comes down to see him then,’ Eliza said, disappointed. ‘Is he well, Mum?’

  ‘Not as well as he might be,’ Tilly said after a moment, and then went on and told her, as briefly as she could, what had happened. Eliza listened, her face growing darker with every sentence.

  ‘That nasty madam!’ she burst out when Tilly had finished. ‘And to think she had once so beguiled me with her pretty ways. I thought her a dear, good girl, I did, and now she’s gone and done that to our Mr Duff? Well, I hope she may rot in hell for it. As good and loving a boy as our Duff, to be treated so. It’s the outside of enough! Oh, is it any wonder,’ she went on with sublime illogicality. ‘That there Dorcas is such a dreadful, wicked woman as to frighten us so when she’s got such a daughter as this one? I hope they both rot, that I do.’