by Pip Granger
Despite her reassurances, I was not at all sure she wouldn’t eat me or keep me a prisoner or something equally awful. Suddenly I wanted my auntie Maggie more than anything else in the world. I stayed put, my ever faithful thumb in my mouth and an arm wound round the neck of one of the greyhounds.
Great-aunt Dodie turned and, seeing my anxiety, retraced her steps and held out her arms to me. ‘Come on, Poppet, no one is going to hurt you.’
I let go of the greyhound, spat out my thumb and wound both arms around her neck as she carried me into the house.
‘Meet my godchild, Rosa. Can we find her some milk and a biscuit, Esther? I’ll explain in a minute.’ She set me down on the hall rug and took my hand.
‘Of course. Wait in the drawing room and I’ll see what I can find. Would you like something, tea perhaps?’ the little old woman asked.
‘That would be most welcome, Esther. We’ll just have a look around. I want Rosa to see my old room and the nursery. I’m sure she’ll like old Dobbin. Perhaps you could bring the refreshments up there?’
Esther smiled and disappeared towards the back of the house, and Great-aunt Dodie and I made our way to a wide, carved, wooden staircase. It was on the staircase that I saw the picture of the house with the wisteria in full bloom. I had gathered a bit more courage by that point and whispered an enquiry as to where the flowers were now.
‘I’m sorry, Rosa, but we’ve missed them. They appear earlier in the summer, I’m afraid. Perhaps you’ll see them another time. Here we are.’ We stopped at a white, panelled door on the first floor. She looked around carefully and bent down and whispered in my ear, ‘If I tell you a secret, can you keep it?’ I nodded solemnly, and she grinned. ‘Good girl,’ she said and flung open the door on to one of the most beautiful rooms I have ever seen, before or since.
‘This was your mother’s room when she was a little girl, and before that it was mine. But you must not mention your mother while we are here. Do you understand? It is to be our secret until we leave. Of course, you may tell your auntie Maggie and uncle Bert about our visit – one would not want you to keep secrets from them – but just for the time being, while we’re here, it is our secret. Except for Esther, and she’ll keep it to herself.’ Great-aunt Dodie stuck out an enormous hand and I shook it gravely.
23
The Perfumed Lady’s old room was in fact two. First there was her bedroom which looked out on to the front of the house. Our windows at home tended to be on the small side, except the cafe windows of course, and this meant that our rooms were rarely blazing with sunlight the way this one was. Sometimes the old currant bun did manage to find just the spot between two rooftops that was in a direct line with one of our windows, but not for long. I was not used to the feeling of space and light and air that was my first impression when Great-aunt Dodie flung open the door. Then there was the colour scheme. I loved it on sight and it remains my favourite to this day. The walls were a rich cream and the furnishings, rugs and curtains were combinations of cream, a warm pink and apple green. The bedspread and the curtains matched exactly, something I’d never seen before. I’m not sure why I was so taken with it – it all sounds very ordinary now – but it was something to do with the mixture of sunlight, the lovely colours and the perfect proportions of the room.
Then there was the decorative plasterwork. We had some at home but nothing as complicated or as beautiful as this. The central rose around the light fitting looked like something from a wedding cake. There were roses and small birds enmeshed in a complicated tracery of foliage. If it had been my room, I’d have spent hours just gazing at that, I think. The cornices, on the other hand, had a beautiful simplicity that acted as a frame for the central glory. There were pictures on the walls. One was of a lovely cottage garden with a path winding towards a greenhouse. A robin was perched on the handle of a fork that had been left in one of the flower beds. Another showed a fairy-like being with a pipe in his mouth and he ws surrounded by small wild creatures. Birds perched everywhere, including on the end of his pipe, and squirrels, foxes, badgers, rabbits and hedgehogs cavorted around him, as if enchanted by the silent music.
I was dragged from my daydream by the sound of Esther coming into the room bearing a tray laden with milk and biscuits for me and a pot of tea for Great-aunt Dodie.
‘Let’s take it into the nursery, Esther. There will be a spare cup in there and perhaps you would care to join me in some tea while we have a jolly good chat?’
Esther grinned and carefully placed the tray on the dressing table for a moment. She fished about for a second and whisked a cup out of one spacious pocket and a saucer out of the other. She placed them beside an identical set already on the tray.
‘Funny you should mention that, Miss Dodie, but I took the liberty of anticipating you.’
My great-aunt threw back her white head and let out a loud hoot of laughter. ‘Good old Esther, you always could read my mind, even when I was a gal and you were the tweenie. Some Eastern fellows would say we must have been sisters or some such in a previous life and I would not be surprised at that.’
She grabbed the tray and made her way to a door opposite the one we’d come in by. ‘Rosa dear, could you do the honours and open the door for me? There’s a good girl. Now, what do you think of that?’
I knew exactly what she was referring to as my eyes were already glued to the rocking horse that stood in front of the window. It was a dappled grey with a silky mane and tail and a lovely scarlet bridle and saddle. It was just like the one the Perfumed Lady had sent for my doll’s house, only much bigger.
‘Have a go if you want to, Rosa, while Esther and I exchange news. When and if you get bored with that, there are plenty more toys for you to have a look at.’
Pretty soon I was rocking fit to bust and Great-aunt Dodie and Esther were chatting about someone called ‘Mr Charles’. It seemed he was no nearer getting married and was displaying a certain fecklessness that worried Esther, but Great-aunt Dodie kept on about something called ‘wild oats’ and having to sow them. I couldn’t make head nor tail of it myself and anyway the rocking was beginning to hypnotize me. I didn’t come back to myself until I heard my mother’s name. It was Esther who was speaking.
‘And have you heard any news of Miss Cassandra, Miss Dodie? I know Mr Charles worries about her in his own way.’
‘Well, actually, Esther, that is what I wished to talk to you about. But first, you must swear to keep anything I tell you a secret.’
Esther sounded huffy. ‘You know you can trust me, Miss Dodie. I have never breathed a word to anyone about you and Mr Herbert and how long has that been going on, may I ask? Thirty years to my knowledge. How is Mr Herbert, by the way? Well, I hope?’
‘Fine, thank you, Esther. Of course you can keep a secret. Silly of me, and I apologize. It is just that I have a feeling someone other than myself should know about this. One day we may need a witness and it is possible that I shall not be in the position to do much myself.’
‘Now don’t you go talking like that, Miss Dodie. By rights I should be laid to rest years before you.’
‘Let us not get morbid, Esther. What I wanted to tell you is that Rosa here is my godchild, as I’ve already mentioned, but what I did not tell you is that Cassandra is her mother. Which makes Mr Charles her uncle.’
Esther did not bat an eyelid at this news. ‘I thought as much as soon as I laid eyes on her,’ she muttered. ‘She has the look of Miss Cassandra. It’s the eyes and that chin. But why are you telling me, Miss Dodie?’
‘It is possible, Esther, that there may come a day when it is important that you were told this now, in cold blood as it were. She could be Charles’s only heir, for example, if everyone else dies and he has no issue. Things could get heated. Accusations and denials may be flying about in all directions – you know what those cousins are. They’ve been itching to get a toe in the door for years. One would hate to think they would manage it by default. It never does to be too sloppy
about these things.’
‘Can the … er … illegitimate line inherit, Miss Dodie? I didn’t think that it could.’
‘I am no lawyer, Esther, but I think in certain circumstances it can. But whatever the law is now, it may be important later on to have a witness who has nothing to gain and nothing to lose. I should like you to be that witness.’
She went on to suggest that she and Esther should discuss this next door while I had a good play. Of course, Great-aunt Dodie had not had a lot to do with children and didn’t realize what nosy little so-and-sos they can be. I learned a lot that afternoon. First, I found out that Charlie Fluck had nicked a letter the Perfumed Lady had written to Great-aunt Dodie. He took it out of her handbag when she wasn’t looking and that was why he had come sniffing around the cafe.
‘Fluck would have shown the letter to that ghastly creature Godfrey, you may be sure of that, and I expect that it was he who sent the wretched little man to check up on Cassandra in London.’ Great-aunt Dodie’s voice boomed loud and clear through the closed door.
Esther’s voice, on the other hand, was almost too soft to hear. ‘But why would he want to do that, Miss Dodie? He washed his hands of Miss Cassandra the day she left and ordered everyone else to do the same, even her own mother. I would have thought the child would have made him even more determined to get rid of her – you know how people are about unmarried mothers. They don’t want their friends to know. I’d’ve thought he’d have let sleeping dogs lie good and quiet myself.’
‘That’d be true of most people, but not of Godfrey. The possibility that Cassandra has a child would be too good an opportunity for him to miss. That man could hide behind a corkscrew he’s so twisted. He’s wanted sole control of Loveday Engineering for years, ever since poor Percy died and he married that vapid half-wit Evelyn. So far we’ve managed to keep the blighter in check between us, but if he can think of a way to use Rosa for his own ends then he will, take my word for it. We’ve got to keep him and his lackeys away from her and her family. They’re good people, Esther. Far too good to be interfered with by the likes of Godfrey. The trouble is, poor Rosa could prove to be a very useful bargaining chip.’
I heard someone get to her feet and head towards the door that had my great lug pressed up against it. I only just got back to Dobbin in time, my heart hammering and my brains scrambled. What had chips got to do with anything? As you know, I’m very partial to chips but I had a feeling that ‘bargaining’ chips were something entirely different and not at all nice, and I certainly didn’t fancy being one. It was all very confusing and more than a little frightening. At that moment I wanted my auntie Maggie and uncle Bert very badly indeed.
I must have looked stricken because when Great-aunt Dodie came in she asked if anything was the matter.
‘Who is Godfrey and why would he want to turn me into chips?’ I blurted, not caring at all that the question showed I’d been earwigging.
My great-aunt obviously decided some explanations were necessary. That’s how I discovered that she had not long known about me, which is why we hadn’t met up before. At least, she’d known I was expected but had thought that either my mother had had me adopted or that the pregnancy had been a false alarm and there was no baby. She had been in Delhi when I was born and when she got back there was no sign of me. It was only when I met Mr Herbert that she found out I really did exist, and she’d been angling to meet me ever since.
Far more interesting, though, was that I found out that my mum’s dad, Percy, had been Great-aunt Dodie’s younger brother. He’d been married to Evelyn, my grandmother, and they had had two children, Charles and Cassandra. Then Percy had died and Evelyn had married ‘that ghastly Godfrey’ almost before my grandfather was cold, according to Great-aunt Dodie. Evelyn and my mum and my uncle Charles had had to move out of the house when she married again and Great-aunt Dodie had cared for it until Uncle Charles had come of age, just before I was born.
By the time she’d finished telling me this potted version of the family history, I was still thoroughly confused but soothed considerably. She then suggested that we pop into the stables for a look at the horses. It was only when I was getting a handful of soft muzzle and nostrils full of essence of warm horse that I realized I’d never found out what a bargaining chip was and how I could become one. Somehow Great-aunt Dodie managed to keep dodging that question, and in the end I gave up asking it and enjoyed the horses instead.
I shall never forget the stables because that was the very first time I ever sat on a proper horse’s back. Soon I was hooked. We spent a happy hour plodding around a field with me on Sadie’s back and Great-aunt Dodie leading me. She said I was a natural and already had a good ‘seat’, whatever that was. She told me that I had inherited it from her and she was as pleased as Punch.
The journey back to Weston-super-Mare was fast and uneventful. Great-aunt Dodie was thoughtful and I was both thoughtful and knackered. It had been a long day with lots of new information and experiences to sort out in my mind.
When we were back at Dunroamin, I told everyone about Dobbin and Sadie but kept quiet about Esther, all the new relatives and the big posh house. I saved all that until I was safely tucked in bed with my beloved auntie Maggie sitting beside me. Then I told her everything, although she seemed to know most of it already. By the time she’d finished reassuring me, I was able to settle down to sleep safe in the knowledge that my real family were all around me.
24
Great-aunt Dodie and Mr Herbert were still in residence when I woke up on the Saturday morning. We were due to leave Aggie on Horseback on Sunday so that we would be ready to open the cafe bright and early on Monday morning. No one wanted to break up the party before we had to, especially as everyone had taken to my great-aunt and Mr Herbert in a big way. Mr Herbert had become Archie to all, except me that is. He had asked me to call him ‘Uncle Archie’ but it didn’t seem right somehow, and anyway I was up to my eyebrows in new relatives and wasn’t about to add yet another uncle, real or otherwise.
I was still trying to work out the relationships between me and Mr Charles, that vapid half-wit Evelyn, poor Percy, the revolting cousins and the ghastly Godfrey. Auntie Maggie had explained it all to me in bed the night before, but I was still having trouble sorting them out in my mind. It’s not easy to have a whole new ready-made family foisted on you out of the clear blue, and even worse if you have absolutely no idea what any of them look like. I was heartily relieved to be back in the bosom of my real family and was quite looking forward to going home. I’d miss Daisy, Hazel, Midge, Madge, Smudge and Budge of course, and Auntie Flo and Uncle Sid, but I was aching for the cafe, Luigi, Mamma and Papa Campanini, Mrs Wong and all. I was particularly looking forward to seeing our battered old Tom again.
Everyone had been busy while Great-aunt Dodie and I had been gallivanting around the countryside the day before. Mr Herbert had been hunting books in second-hand bookshops and had made one or two new acquaintances, and Auntie Maggie and Uncle Bert had been out and about with Auntie Flo and Uncle Sid and had enjoyed meeting Uncle Sid’s cousin ‘from Blagdon way’. Auntie Maggie was full of what a nice bloke Uncle Sid was and how lucky her Flo had been the second time around. They were almost as impressed with Uncle Sid’s cousin and concluded that it must run in the family.
Madame Zelda and Paulette had spent a happy day haunting junk shops and Paulette had managed to find some additions for her famous jungle. Madame Zelda pretended to be exasperated with her. She said that pretty soon she’d be sleeping on the window ledge because there’d be no room for her, but she was smiling.
We all agreed that our holiday had been a resounding success. Auntie Flo and Uncle Sid said they’d been delighted to have us all and that we would have to come again, but in the low season, whenever that was. The sea air, sunshine and wide open spaces had put roses in all our cheeks and freckles on some of our noses, chiefly mine, although Paulette had some too.
Talking of Paulette, she positive
ly glowed with happiness and health. She had gone from strength to strength since she had left Dave – or rather since she’d given Dave the giant elbow. She’d always had a sort of pinched, frightened look before, but now she was a different person. She had allowed her hair to return to its normal brown and she no longer tottered around on heels so high there was a serious risk of broken ankles. Gone were the tight tops with the neckline around her knees somewhere. Her new look made her seem much younger. Auntie Maggie and Auntie Flo agreed that it was a jolly good thing, and that it was about time she was allowed to be a girl again.
‘She was made to grow up too fast, if you ask me, Flo,’ I overheard Auntie Maggie say. ‘Seems to me she never was a kid. Her mother buggered off with a GI, you know.’
‘What d’you mean she buggered off with a GI? Was she one of them GI brides? Wouldn’t the Yanks have ’em both or what?’
‘All I know is that Paulette had just started work at Woolworth’s and the poor little sod came home one day and found they’d left a note saying they’d gone to South Dakota, wherever the hell that is, and she could keep the flat if she liked. Big of ’em. Didn’t even leave her a few bob. She was only fifteen and not even earning enough to pay the rent, let alone eat and everything.’
Auntie Flo clucked and shook her head sympathetically. ‘Don’t tell me – the landlord slung her out and she headed up West. It’s the old, old story, innit?’
‘You got it in one, Flo. That’s how that Dave got his mitts on her. Picked her up at the station, offered her a bed for a night and had her whoring within the month. Gawd, he’s a bastard, that one. How many times have we seen it? I bet the poor, grateful little cow was just going to do it the once to pay off his gambling debts. He never even bothers to change the story.’
‘Madame Zelda’s got a new spring in her step and all. What brought that on? She looks ten years younger!’