Deciding there was no time like the present, Rona lifted the phone and punched in the first number.
Elizabeth Curzon turned as her husband came into the room.
‘The girl Sam told us about has just phoned; she wants to meet us.’
James raised an eyebrow. ‘What girl is that, exactly?’
‘The journalist,’ Elizabeth said impatiently. ‘You know, the one who’s going to write about the firm.’
‘So did you make an appointment?’
‘Yes, for tomorrow morning. That’s all right, isn’t it?’
‘As long as it doesn’t go on too long; I’m playing golf at two. Why does she want to see me, anyway? It’s not as though I’m actively involved any more.’
‘It’s the family history she’s interested in, and memories of the old days.’
‘Well, my memory’s not what it was. Not sure I’ll be much help to her.’
‘That’s nonsense,’ Elizabeth said roundly. ‘You and Charles have a wealth of stories about your father, and the innovations he introduced.’
James glanced at the grandfather clock, which was gearing up to chime midday. ‘Talking of Charles, I wonder how he and Sybil are getting on.’
‘No doubt we’ll get a blow-by-blow account over supper.’
‘Awful upheaval,’ James continued, ‘moving house at their age. So much to sort through and throw away.’
‘Perhaps we should be thinking of doing the same; “down-sizing”, I believe they call it now.’
‘Not on your life!’ James declared. ‘When I leave this house, it will be feet first.’
‘Coppins sounds very pleasant,’ Elizabeth said pensively. ‘And the garden here really is on the large side.’
‘Jackson keeps it trim enough, and you know you’d miss the fresh vegetables. In any case, the last thing we want to do is trot along in Charles’s wake. He wouldn’t thank us for it, mark my words.’
‘There are other places beside Coppins,’ his wife pointed out. ‘I’m not saying there’s any immediate rush, just don’t close your mind to the possibility. If I’m honest, I’m beginning to find the stairs rather a trial. A bungalow or ground-floor flat might be a very sensible move.’
James drew his bushy eyebrows together, uncomfortable at this reminder of time passing. ‘Shouldn’t be surprised if Charles and Sybil have second thoughts in a month or two, and regret the move.’
Elizabeth didn’t reply. She had planted the seed in his mind, and was content for the moment to let it germinate.
Julia was awaiting Rona in the lounge of the Clarendon. Beside her was a small wheeled suitcase and, laid on top of it, two cellophane-wrapped bouquets.
She stood up as Rona walked in, and handed her one. ‘For you, and the other’s for your mother,’ she said. ‘As an expression of my thanks.’
‘Oh, Julia, they’re lovely, but you really shouldn’t have. Thank you very much.’
Julia pulled up the handle of her case. ‘By the way, what’s your mother’s name? I forgot to ask.’
‘The same as mine,’ Rona replied, her nose still buried in the bouquet. ‘Parish is my maiden name, which I use professionally.’ She smiled. ‘In fact, most of the time, to be honest. It’s who I am.’
‘Good for you. So what’s your husband called?’
‘Max Allerdyce.’
Julia frowned. ‘That sounds familiar. Should it?’
‘It depends. He’s an artist, so he’s occasionally mentioned in the press.’
‘Perhaps that’s where I’ve heard it.’
‘I meant to say: you do realize Mum only does bed and breakfast?’
Julia nodded. ‘I bought myself something for supper, in the hope I’ll be able to cook it there.’
‘That’s a relief; I should have warned you. Yes, you’ll have the use of the kitchen till seven. It has a table, so you can eat there too if you prefer, and keep the cooking smells out of your room. OK, let’s go. I parked behind the hotel; I presume that’s where your car is?’
Guild Street was snarled up with rush-hour traffic, and the first part of their journey was frustratingly slow. Rona, anxious that other cars might insert themselves between them, kept an eye on the rear-view mirror in case Julia fell too far behind, and was relieved, as Guild Street turned into Belmont Road and the traffic eased, to see she was still on her tail. From there, they were able to proceed at a more normal speed, and reached Maple Drive a few minutes later.
Avril seemed the more nervous of the two, Rona thought as she introduced them. It was an odd experience, seeing her mother and the house she’d grown up in through Julia’s eyes, and she felt a stab of fierce protectiveness for them both. Julia, however, seemed delighted with everything, and certainly her presentation of the bouquet eased the situation. At Avril’s invitation, it was Rona who went upstairs with her and showed her the room.
‘I still think of it as Grandma’s,’ Rona admitted, ‘but it’s had a considerable revamp in the last month or two, bringing it much more up to date.’
‘It’s lovely,’ Julia enthused. ‘It feels like home already. I’m sure when your mother’s proper guest arrives, she’ll love it.’
‘I’ll leave you to unpack, then. But bear in mind that it’s almost six o’clock. How long will your supper take?’
‘Don’t worry, I shan’t blot my copybook on my first evening. I purposely chose a quickie for tonight. Goodbye, Rona, and thanks again. I’ll be in touch.’
Rona went downstairs, sought out her mother, and kissed her cheek.
Avril seemed surprised but gratified. ‘What was that for?’
‘To say thanks for having her. She’s sweet, isn’t she?’
‘She seems very nice, and it was kind of her to bring flowers.’
‘As I said, knowing she’s here for only a week or so will break you in gently, and give you a chance to pick up on anything that might need adjusting.’
‘The marmalade pot will be christened tomorrow,’ Avril said with a smile.
‘Good! I’ll think of it as I dig mine out of the jar! I must be going, Mum; I’ve an interview in the morning, and I need to list the things to ask.’
‘The Curzons?’
‘Some of them, yes. James and Elizabeth. Have you met them?’
‘On a couple of occasions, but it was Charles who your father knew best.’
‘What are they like?’
Avril considered. ‘Elizabeth struck me as a bit severe. Tall and thin, with very short grey hair. James, on the other hand, gives rather a bumbling impression, but that’s just a front. Tom said he doesn’t miss a trick.’
‘Fine. Armed with prior knowledge, I’ll know how to approach them. They’re Sam’s parents, aren’t they?’
‘That’s right. According to Sybil, it was a difficult birth, and Elizabeth couldn’t have any more children. It was quite a blow, I believe.’
‘Lucky, in that case, that she had a son,’ Rona commented, still critical of the Curzon criterion. She picked up her handbag. ‘I’ll phone you in a day or two, to see how things are going. And thanks again, Mum, for taking Julia in.’
‘I’m sure we’ll get along fine. In fact, from first impressions, I think I’ll feel more at ease with her than with Sarah Lacey.’
Lying in the familiar bed in a strange room, Sybil felt drained to the point of exhaustion. The move had been a two-day operation, the men having completed a large proportion of the packing the previous day. But complications had arisen, since the contents of the house were to be split between a variety of destinations. Some furniture was to go to Oliver, some to Nicholas, and the pieces they were undecided about to a storage depot. Frederick’s desk and a few other items were earmarked for the museum, and all that remained had come here to Coppins.
Even after such a wide dispersal, Sybil felt the flat was bursting at the seams, and at least a dozen packing cases were stacked in the garage, awaiting her sons’ arrival at the weekend to help unpack them.
Despite her
conviction of the rightness of the move, it had been depressing to see the old house stripped to its bones. The shapes on bare walls where pictures had hung gave it a forlorn air which, as they finally drove away, had brought tears to her eyes. It had, after all, been their home through good times and bad for the last forty years, and she was grateful to it.
She turned her head as Charles came into the room, feeling a stab of worry at his drawn face. She reached out a hand to him.
‘All right, darling?’
‘I shall be,’ he replied, taking it in both his own, ‘once we get settled in.’
‘I hope you haven’t overdone it. There was no need, you know, to help the men as much as you did.’
‘Well, that young lad seemed a bit cack-handed and I didn’t want the family heirlooms spilling out on to the path.’
Sybil smiled. ‘I’m sure he knew what he was doing.’
Her eyes moved critically round the new room. Their bedroom furniture looked over-large in these surroundings, and it might well be necessary to replace it with smaller pieces. Time enough for that, though.
‘Thank God for James and Elizabeth,’ she said. ‘That meal was our salvation. I couldn’t even have found the pans, let alone cook.’
‘Things will sort themselves out in the morning. But yes, it was good of them. Quite apart from the meal, it was a relief to be able to relax in a room where everything was in place and there was a conspicuous lack of packing cases.’
‘You’re not going to do any more tonight, are you?’
‘No. I intend to have a long, hot bath, in the hope of forestalling any aches and pains tomorrow.’
‘I was too tired even for that. I’ll have mine in the morning.’
‘Well, the worst is over, and at least we’re here.’ He bent over and kissed her. ‘Goodnight, my love. Sleep well in your new home.’
‘And you,’ she murmured. But her eyes were already closing.
Seven
By the time the Trents arrived for supper on Friday evening, Rona felt she’d had enough of the Curzons for one week.
‘I’m building up a comprehensive file on them,’ she told Barnie and Dinah, as they sat over drinks while Max put the final touches to the meal. ‘I went on a factory tour last week, and had lunch with the present generation. Since then, I’ve been immersed in old family albums. Some of them go back to the eighteen hundreds, but they came to a dead halt around nineteen-sixty.’
‘Any worth reproducing?’ Barnie asked.
‘A few, yes; principally one of Samuel, the founder, looking very solid and prosperous in his frock coat. Then today, to round off the week, I went to Nettleton, to meet the James Curzons.’
‘Were they amenable to your questions?’
‘Yes, despite first impressions, they were quite forthcoming.’
Dinah laughed. ‘Despite first impressions?’
‘Well, they both looked rather fierce. James has thick, beetle eyebrows and a disconcerting habit of peering at you from underneath them, and when he speaks it’s like a machine gun being rattled off.’
‘Good heavens! And his wife?’
‘Tall and thin, with a very lined face and severely short grey hair. However, she was much nicer than she appeared, especially when she discovered I was Tom Parish’s daughter. She dug out a few photos of her own to show me, and once I’d persuaded them to open up, they’d lots of stories about James’s father, Frederick, and Frederick’s brother Spencer. Just the kind of thing I was hoping for. And on Tuesday, I’m seeing Mrs Hester and her daughter.’ Finlay’s mother and sister.
‘And you want to earmark this article for September?’ Barnie confirmed.
‘There might well be two, as I warned you, so either August and September, or September and October would be fine. It seems sensible to tie in with the celebrations. They’re bringing out a new line to coincide with them, but it’s all very hush-hush.’
Barnie leaned back, staring reflectively into his glass. ‘You know, ever since you mentioned the Curzons, I’ve had this niggling feeling at the back of my mind.’
‘Niggling how?’
‘Something I seem to remember hearing, way back, about rumours that were circulating at the turn of the last century.’
Rona leaned forward excitedly. ‘What kind of rumours?’
‘That’s what’s niggling me.’
‘Finlay did say one of his ancestors had been a rake. Could they concern him?’
‘Possibly, but I might be mixing them up with another family.’
‘Do try to remember, Barnie. It could be useful.’
He nodded. ‘I’ll give it some thought, and let you know if I come up with anything.’
‘Will we be dining off Curzon this evening?’ Dinah enquired, with lifted eyebrow.
Rona shook her head ruefully. ‘We leave that to my future stepmother.’
‘That reminds me, how are your parents? I’ve been wondering how they’re getting along.’
‘They’re fine; Pops is happily settled in his flat, and Mum has started taking in lodgers. In fact, I’ve just slipped her an extra one; someone who’s in town for a week or so, and hates hotels.’
Max appeared in the doorway, his face flushed from the stove. ‘Ladies and gentleman,’ he announced, ‘dinner is served.’
Despite their lack of dining room, the kitchen table, with its white cloth, crystal and candles, was worthy of the highest cuisine, and with the lights at the other, business end of the room extinguished, an intimate atmosphere prevailed. Reflections of the candle flames flickered in the glass of the door like a host of fireflies, and outside, in the giant urns, the first spring bulbs were beginning to appear.
Life, Rona decided, was good. She always enjoyed evenings spent with the Trents; though they were older than herself and Max, she felt more relaxed with them than with some friends their own age. Barnie was known at Chiltern Life for his short fuse, and was rumoured to rant and rave when copy was late, though Rona had never witnessed such tantrums. Over six feet, he towered above his diminutive wife, but what Dinah lacked in inches she made up for in personality; her wiry black hair was untameable, and her deep voice and rich laugh were a constant surprise, emanating as they did from so small a frame.
‘I had an email from Melissa this morning,’ she was saying. ‘Sam’s due to start playschool next term, and can hardly wait. He asks every morning if it’s time to go.’
‘Let’s hope such enthusiasm lasts throughout his schooldays,’ Max commented.
‘I bet Mitch is glad his stint in the Gulf is over,’ Rona said.
‘Actually, apart from missing the family, he enjoyed it,’ Dinah told her. ‘He might well have to go back, and provided the children are a bit older when that happens, I think they’d all go with him. Mel liked it very much when she went out to visit. There’s a good social life, and wall-to-wall sunshine can’t be bad.’
‘Except when it reaches the forties,’ Barnie put in. ‘But Mel and the kids would go home during the hottest months. However, that’s pure speculation. As of now, they’re all back in the U S of A, and glad to be together again.’
Talk continued as the wine was finished, the coffee drunk, and the candles guttered out.
When the Trents finally rose to go, Rona reminded Barnie of his promise about the Curzons.
‘He thinks there were rumours about them, in the early nineteen hundreds,’ Rona explained to Max.
‘You’d better be careful, my girl,’ Max warned her. ‘If you uncover dark secrets about every family you interview, you’ll soon run out of takers.’
Barnie laughed. ‘He’s got a point, Rona. Perhaps you shouldn’t dig too deep.’
‘Oh, nonsense! As you know, readers are all for a bit of spice, and anything that happened so long ago must have lost its sting. Perhaps the newspaper archives would have something.’
Barnie shook his head. ‘Very doubtful. In those days, personal peccadilloes were respected as such, and the gentlemen of the press di
dn’t intrude.’
‘Well, I might have a look anyway, on the principle of leaving no stone unturned.’
‘I was serious, you know,’ Max said, as they went down to clear the table. ‘You’ve created quite a few upsets, one way or the other, over the last year or so. You don’t want to get a name for investigative journalism.’
‘Nothing could be further from my thoughts,’ Rona said lightly, opening the door for Gus to go out on the patio. ‘Sorry, boy, that’s the best we can offer this evening.’
Max shrugged. ‘Don’t say I didn’t warn you,’ he said.
The following morning, Rona phoned her mother.
‘Just wondering how you’re getting on with Julia?’
‘Oh, she’s a delight, Rona – a pleasure to have in the house. I’m trying to keep things on a formal footing, but it’s difficult with someone so bubbly. She’s always wanting to chat, and to be honest, I enjoy her company.’
‘I thought you’d get along. Since you’re relishing the experience, perhaps you should revamp my room for another guest!’
‘Hold on, now. One at a time is quite enough, and Sarah looks like being long-term.’
‘Glad all’s going so well, anyway. Tell Julia I’ll give her a buzz next week, and perhaps we can meet for lunch.’
As Rona replaced the phone, she marvelled yet again at the change in her mother. This time last year, such a conversation would have been unimaginable. And Pops was so obviously happier than he’d been for years. All in all, it seemed that the effects of the dreaded split had been more beneficial than otherwise.
At nine o’clock, as promised, Oliver and Nick Curzon arrived at Coppins to assist their parents in sorting out their possessions. Fortunately, the garage allocated to the flat, and in which the storage boxes were stacked, was only yards from their front door. It was also fortunate that the strong, cold wind of the last few weeks had mitigated, and the air was warm enough for both doors to be left open while the unpacking was in progress.
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