by Mary Wood
‘How is it that you’re all wet, Ada?’
Paddy’s voice had a soft tone, and an almost ashamed note to it.
‘I ran into the water. I don’t know why, but me and the lads used to come here and . . .’
‘Aye, I know. Well, let’s go home. We’ll not find our lads here, or anywhere we look. We need to start to pick up the pieces.’
‘You’ve to change, Paddy. If I’m to stay, you’ve to change.’
‘Don’t you think I know that, Ada? Me ways are not how things should be, but it is as if I am driven. But I will try. I promise, I will try.’
‘There’s to be no going off with others and putting it about. You’ve to think on about doing sommat in the way of working for the war effort, instead of living in the bookie’s pocket. And the beatings and the rape have to stop.’
‘Are you accusing me of raping me own wife again? Huh! I’m entitled to have you when I want you, and no court in the land will have it otherwise, so think on. You give willingly to me, and stop making it that I have to force you. That sin is yours, Ada, and it is one as leads me to look elsewhere. But the beating of you – well, that isn’t something I like doing. I will swear on me lad’s deathbeds—’
‘Don’t!’ Shivering as if she would never stop, Ada looked up at him. ‘Don’t ever use our lads’ names to swear owt. I can’t bear it.’
‘I’m sorry, that wasn’t what I should have done. Damn it, woman! How many concessions do you want from me? Let’s go home, Ada. Come on, me wee lass, let’s go home.’
Taking his hand felt right, but the action deepened her confusion. A big part of her wanted rid of this man, but there was still a small part of her that couldn’t give up on him.
10
Eloise
London and Leicestershire, mid-August 1916
Loss and revelations
‘Daddy?’ Eloise’s tentative address to her father reflected the morose mood the family had fallen into, since the reality of Andrina’s passing, four weeks ago, had hit them. Unable to stay at their country home with the memory of the tragedy so raw, they had returned to London, but the move hadn’t helped.
Her father was leaning over his desk reading a letter. Looking up, he glanced over his half-glasses at her, but didn’t speak. This unnerved her more than she was already.
‘Daddy, can I talk to you? I want to do something. Being idle is driving me mad!’
‘D – don’t ask me to let you go to France, my dear, I – I cannot.’
‘No, I know, but what about helping with something here? Hospital work, or something at the War Office; anything really. I have a conscience, Daddy, and feel as though I am letting the side down. There isn’t a family we know that hasn’t got somebody – son, daughter, father or even mother – helping the war effort, except us.’
‘I don’t think you can say that. I am involved, as far as I can be, with strategies that have to be discussed in the House of Lords. And of course, your cousins . . . Look, my dear, we will talk about this later. I have news. It – it isn’t good, and I don’t know how to tell your mama. I’m sorry, but I can’t give my attention to your needs at the moment, though there is something I have to discuss that concerns you.’
‘What is it, Father? I mean, the bad news. Oh God, cousins Christian and Douglas are all right, aren’t they?’
‘As far as I know, my dear, but poor Edith isn’t. I haven’t wanted to tell you and your mother before, it was all too much for you, but Uncle Christopher and Aunt Muriel are coming down from the country where they have been since Andrina . . . Well, you see, my dear, it happened on the same day . . . I – I couldn’t tell you, and your aunt and uncle understood, but now, with them being just down the road, I have to. They are distraught, and more so as time goes on.’
‘Oh God! Edith? Why? How?’
Listening to her father shocked and frightened her. Edith dragged off by a demented corporal, who had beaten his superior to death and shot two officers and his fellow soldiers! It all sounded preposterous, but there was no doubt. The corporal had ridden away from the scene of his terrible crimes on a bike. That bike had been found outside Edith’s dormitory tent. Deep ruts in the mud showed that Edith had been dragged. No one knew why she’d dressed and gone out in the rain to him, but she had, and now . . . ‘Oh, Daddy, the world has gone mad. Poor Edith. Is there no news of where she is?’
‘No, I’m afraid there isn’t. I am, of course, doing all I can. I put in a request to get the boys back on leave, and think it may be granted.’
‘Oh, Daddy, I can’t bear it.’
She slumped in the chair just inside her father’s office. Every limb shook, and her stomach churned till she felt she would be sick. This was all impossible. It hadn’t happened. Things like kidnap happened to other people. But one look at her father’s face told her that it was true. Oh God help us, and please help my darling Edith!
‘I asked this of you just four weeks ago, my darling girl, but I have to ask again. Please try to be strong for your mother and, more than anything, for Aunt Muriel and Uncle Christopher. I will do all I can to get Christian and Douglas home for them – well, for us all, really. Don’t cry, darling.’ But as he said the words and rose and came over to her, to hold her in his arms, he too was crying.
Tears seemed so futile and didn’t release the grief and sadness trapped inside Eloise. To her, they only increased the pain, as the loss of her darling sister was still very raw in her heart. The news about Edith only compounded her grief. It seemed the only thing to do was to give up altogether or soldier on. Her father had asked her to do the latter, and she had to, for his sake. He needed help, as he had to be the strong pin that held them all from falling apart. She would give all she had and would stand by him in that.
She released herself from her sobbing father’s arms. ‘We can get through it, Daddy. With your help, we can all get through. I will be there for you and Mama, and my dear aunt and uncle.’ And as she said this, she knew that she had undergone a profound change. She didn’t know when it had happened, but she was a million miles from the girl she used to be, whose head had been full of nothing more than the pursuit of fun, fashion and a marriage partner.
None of those things mattered to her now. Her youth had been peeled from her, layer by painful layer. She was now a woman. A strong woman.
‘Daddy, you said there was something else concerning me?’
‘Yes, dear. It is about Jay.’
She shuddered, and her father said, ‘I know, I hated hearing his name, but I don’t think we can let him shoulder all the blame for what happened. As appalling as it is to acknowledge, it appears Jay and Andrina were in love.’
‘I can’t accept that, Daddy. Andrina was bored; she hated the country life and wanted a distraction. She had a silly crush on Jay. He used that to lure her in deeper than she should have gone. He knew what he was doing. And he must have known Florrie was in love with him, and what she was really like. He must have known what Florrie was capable of. He killed Andrina, just as surely as Florrie did, and he should hang!’
‘My dear, I had no idea you felt like this. You’re wrong – you have to see. Andrina was a headstrong girl. If she set her heart on something, she usually got it. Look, Mama found her diary. It seems she was deeply in love with Jay, but knew it was wrong and hadn’t . . . Well, anyway, it seems that Jay had respected her wishes not to do anything other than meet up and hope, I suppose. Poor d – darling Andrina.’ His voice broke once more.
She resisted the urge to go to him. ‘What do you want me to do, Daddy?’
‘Jay is asking for you. He is very fragile and could still die from his injuries, but this letter from Doctor Jacques, whom I have asked to continue to treat Jay at my expense, says that Jay’s agitation is holding back his recovery. He is very distressed and constantly asks for you.’
‘Do you want me to go to him? What about all that is going on here?’
‘Once Mama sees how strong you are, that wi
ll help her. But at the moment there is nothing you can do for your uncle and aunt. I don’t know why, but I can’t bear the thought of Jay dying. It is as if he is family – well, servant family, if you know what I mean. No, he is more than that. I – I can’t say, I mean . . . Anyway, we have to remember that he made dearest Andrina happy. You know, h – he came to us at a very young age, and was always hanging around, helping the gardener of the time. And there is a . . . Oh, I don’t know.’
‘I do, Daddy. You are a wonderful person who cares about people. Naturally you care for someone who has been in your employ for such a long time. I will go to Jay, but not until I have been to see Aunt Muriel and Uncle Christopher and have made sure that Mama is coping.’
‘Thank you, my dear. I will let the doctor know. Just knowing you have consented to come should put Jay’s mind at rest. My dear, will you also call in on his poor mother – I mean, adoptive mother – whilst you are there? Tell her how sorry we are.’
‘I will. Daddy, is there something else troubling you in all this?’
‘Yes, a suspicion. Oh, it’s nothing. I must go and see your dear mama now, Eloise. Forgive me, but I can’t put off telling her the dreadful news any longer. Will you come with me?’
Eloise knew her heart was beating loudly as she waited outside the Feilding Palmer Cottage Hospital male ward, in Lutterworth, a small market town situated about five miles from her home in Leicestershire.
The nurse in attendance was making Jay ‘presentable’, as she put it. How could he be unpresentable?
A cry of pain made her stiffen. It had come from Jay. Eloise felt a moment of pity for him; she was not entirely without sympathy. Since arriving at Rossworth Hall the day before, she had talked to Maggie, the downstairs maid, and found that everyone’s sympathy lay with Jay. Maggie had even said, ‘Begging your pardon, M’lady, and I don’t wish to speak ill of the dead, but Lady Andrina had no right to mix with the servants. It wasn’t her rightful place, and she stepped over the line in doing so.’
Though feeling angry at Maggie, Eloise had known that of course the girl was right. The blame for the liaison had to lie with Andrina, despite what she thought about Jay luring her dear sister. After all, he would never have come to Andrina; she had to go to him. That wasn’t Jay luring her, but more Andrina courting his attention.
These conclusions had helped. It wasn’t nearly as painful to come and see Jay as it would have been had she still blamed him.
This thought had hardly died in her when the door opened. ‘You can come in now, Lady Eloise.’
The smell of carbolic soap hit her as she walked through the door. She’d never been in a hospital ward before, and it seemed she had walked into a room of white when she first glanced around the door. The bed linen and the nurse’s uniform, the bandages around Jay’s head and even the small chair next to the bed were all white. But then she realized that the brick walls were cream and the bottom half of them had green tiles.
Nerves jangled in her stomach. What was she going to say to him? Would he even be able to read her lips, because his head looked as though it was completely covered in bandages, to below his eyes!
‘La – Lady Eloise?’
‘Yes, Jay, it’s me.’
His hand gestured that she should come nearer and she realized he couldn’t see her face. It was silly of her to have spoken until she was nearer the bed and bent over him. Doing that now, she saw that one of his eyes was uncovered. ‘Are you all right, Jay?’
A tear trickled down his cheek. The sight undid her. Her legs gave way, and she abruptly sat down into the chair. But she must not give way to the clogging feeling in her chest. She had to swallow hard and compose herself, otherwise she would drown in the sorrow that had her in its grip. After a moment she stood over Jay again. ‘I’m sorry, Jay, I don’t know what I can do to help you.’
Through his tears he sobbed, ‘Find forgiveness for me. You and – and Lord and Lady Mellor. Please forgive me.’
‘We don’t hold you responsible, Jay. It – it was more Andrina.’
‘No! We—’
‘I know, you were in love. But still, she should have known better than to have started a liaison. You – you are a servant.’
‘I – I shouldn’t be. I should be the rightful owner of Hastleford Hall. I am—’
‘What are you talking about? Your head injury must have sent you out of your proper mind. How can you say such a thing?’
‘My – my mother . . . My adoptive m – mother will tell you. I am a Daverly. I – I was born before Lord Daverly . . . died. I am his son.’
‘Oh God! You really believe this? But it’s impossible. As I understand it, there were no male heirs, and that is why the house went to my aunt. You’re being ridiculous. Aunt Muriel was an only child. I – I mean . . . Look, you have had a head injury; that must have unbalanced you and given you this preposterous idea!’
‘No, it’s true. P – please go and talk to my mother.’
‘Very well, I will. But this is all nonsense, and she will laugh at me. Jay, my aunt’s family is in turmoil. They can’t take this kind of – well, fear that they may lose their country home, on top of all that is happening.’
‘Th – they won’t. I – I just want to prove who I really am. If it had ha – happened before . . . then A – Andrina and I, we could have married. I am no relation to you; only my sister – half-sister – is. She is your aunt by marriage, that’s all.’
Once more his tears began to flow.
‘Don’t torture yourself. I am sure these are thoughts that are visiting you in your weakest moment. I’ll sort it out. Everything will be fine, I promise.’ She caught a small glint of hope in Jay’s eye. But, for her, the thought of any of this being true appalled her.
She didn’t want to open the door of the butcher’s shop. The bell above it clanged as she did so. Mr Tattumby looked up from the task of chopping raw meat, dropped his cleaver and touched his forelock. ‘Good afternoon, Lady Eloise. I expect you’ve come to see Mrs Tattumby?’ Unable to find her voice, she nodded. ‘Come on through, M’lady. Mrs Tattumby is expecting you.’
Dodging the dripping animal limbs hanging around the shop, Eloise followed him. She was surprised by the brightness of the parlour; with its smell of beeswax polish still in the air, it gave a warm welcome. Pretty, hand-embroidered cushions and antimacassars adorned the two brown leather armchairs and matching sofa. The wooden legs and arms of these were carved and shone, so that they had the appearance of a deep lustre. The red-tiled floor had the same gleam, and the scattered rag rugs were of a light beige with intricate patterns of flowers and birds woven into them. They were a thing of beauty, and after greeting Mrs Tattumby and accepting the offer of a cup of tea and cake, Eloise had to comment on them. ‘Did you make those beautiful rugs, Mrs Tattumby? I have never seen such perfection, or indeed any pattern in a rag rug before.’
‘No, Jay made those. He is very clever with his hands, and very intelligent.’
‘Oh?’ She didn’t know what else to say, as this answer was unexpected.
‘Sit down, M’lady. I won’t be a minute.’
When she opened the door to her kitchen, delicious smells of fresh baking wafted through. They gave comfort and said to Eloise that she was a welcome visitor and had been prepared for. She hadn’t realized just how hungry she was, but the aromas tantalized her and she couldn’t wait to eat whatever had been prepared.
‘Here you are, M’lady.’
A plateful of delicious-looking scones lay on a tray with some butter and jam in little pots beside them. A china teapot stood next to these, and two china cups; no doubt the Sunday-best china, and all for her benefit. The gesture touched her and, as she had done many times in the last few weeks, she had to swallow hard. It was funny how small things like this kindness shown to her could trigger her grief.
‘I know why you’re here,’ Mrs Tattumby began. ‘I have wronged Jay. I don’t know how he can forgive me, but he has. You see, I k
ept from him the truth of his birth and denied him his true place in life.’ Her head sank so far into her neck that it almost rested on her huge bosom. A big lady in every way, including having a large, kind heart, Mrs Tattumby had a round, jolly face that was usually smiling, but now looked crestfallen and full of guilt.
‘Well, if Jay has forgiven you, you should forgive yourself.’
‘I know, but I find it difficult. I never did before . . . what happened. I mean, I always said I would tell him when he reached twenty-five, and he could do what he wanted with the information, but none of this would have happened if I had told him earlier. He wouldn’t have been a servant to anyone and could . . . Well, he could have had your sister’s hand as he wanted to, and no servant girl would have thought of him as hers.’ Again she dropped her head. ‘I’m very sorry. I truly am very sorry. Me and Mr Tattumby have watched you and your sister grow up, and now I am the cause of the terrible circumstances that have come about.’
With an effort she didn’t know she could muster, Eloise took a deep breath and, in the face of this woman’s tears, didn’t let one tear escape from her own eyes. ‘No one is to blame. You couldn’t have seen this as an outcome of keeping a secret. Now please, Mrs Tattumby, tell me: who is Jay, really?’
‘He is the son of the late Lord Daverly of Hastleford Hall and half-brother to Lady Muriel, the present owner. His mother was Lady Amelia Falding.
‘Good gracious – a half-brother of my Aunt Muriel! This cannot be true. And you say that Lady Amelia was his mother? But didn’t she die somewhere abroad when she was very young?’
‘No, she died in the attics of Hastleford Hall in 1891, giving birth to her son.’
‘After my Aunt Muriel was already married and had her own children! I cannot take all of this in. It is preposterous! How can you say such a thing? The scandal!’
‘It’s because of the scandal that it was kept quiet, but it can all be proved. At least, there are folk still alive who could be made to tell the truth. The local doctor at the time did everything the gentry wanted him to do. He is still alive, and no doubt would like to ease his conscience before he dies.’