The Girls in Blue

by Lily Baxter

  Rita pulled a face. ‘Blimey, he really is head over heels. Can’t see the attraction myself, but she must have something.’

  ‘She’s very nice really, and she adores Jack.’

  ‘Good luck to them, I say. Anyway, I’m off now. Cheerio and remember what I said about getting transferred. I’m sick of those la-di-dah girls who think they’re too posh to get their hands dirty.’

  ‘I promise. Now go, and take care of yourself, Rita.’

  ‘You bet. Same goes for you, ducks. Abyssinia.’ Rita opened the door, pausing at the top of the steps to turn to Miranda with a wry smile. ‘He’s got the damned thing ticking over. Here’s hoping we get back in one piece. Bye.’ With a wave of her hand she disappeared into the darkness.

  Suddenly all was quiet except for the steady ticking of the grandfather clock. Miranda decided to leave Jack to sort out his personal affairs. She made her way to the drawing room where she found Ivy sprawled on the sofa with an empty glass in her hand. She looked up when she heard Miranda enter the room and gave her a bleary smile. ‘Is there any brandy left in the bottle, dear? A nightcap would go down very well.’

  ‘Of course.’ Miranda took the glass from her and poured a small measure of brandy with a generous splash of soda water. ‘Try this. I can add more soda if it’s too strong.’

  Ivy sipped her drink. ‘No, that’s perfect.’

  ‘Granny’s gone to bed, and I’ll be going up soon.’

  ‘That’s all right, dear. I’ll be going up the little wooden hill to Bedfordshire myself when I’ve drunk this. It’s been a very trying evening, and I’m not surprised that Maggie has a headache.’

  ‘The party was her idea, Aunt Ivy.’

  ‘My dear girl, you can stop using that silly title. It might have been considered polite when you were a child, but you’re grown up now and I’m no relation, so you may call me Ivy.’

  ‘That’s funny. Jack hates being called uncle.’

  ‘It’s very ageing.’ Ivy sipped her drink, frowning. ‘He’s right there, but I’m not certain about his choice of soul mate.’

  ‘Isabel is a really nice person, and I think it’s high time the Beddoes and Carstairs buried the hatchet, so to speak, and preferably not in each other’s heads. Perhaps things will improve when Jack and Izzie are married.’

  Ivy gave her a searching look. ‘You really don’t know the story, do you?’

  ‘I wish someone would enlighten me.’

  ‘Of course, I’m not one to gossip,’ Ivy said, lowering her voice, ‘but I think Maggie should have told Jack the truth long ago. She’ll have to eventually or it’s quite possible he’ll be marrying his own sister.’

  ‘What rubbish are you spouting now, Ivy?’ Jack’s voice from the doorway made them both turn with a start. He walked over to the sofa, standing above Ivy with a disbelieving look on his face. ‘It’s got to be the drink talking.’

  She struggled to an upright position. ‘It’s high time you were told the truth, Jack. Since your mother is too scared to reveal her past, then it’s my duty as a friend of the family to …’

  ‘Friend?’ Isabel hurried to Jack’s side. ‘What sort of friend says such terrible things? You ought to be ashamed of yourself.’

  Ivy flapped her hand, motioning them to take a seat. ‘Sit down, the pair of you. I won’t be bullied into silence. Half the town knew that Maggie was having an affair with Max Carstairs while George was serving overseas.’

  ‘I don’t believe a word of it,’ Jack said angrily. ‘You’re drunk, Ivy.’

  ‘I may not be entirely sober, but there’s nothing wrong with my memory. Someone had to put you straight before you made a terrible mistake and married the girl. Why do you think your mother was so upset?’

  Miranda could stand it no longer. She leapt to her feet. ‘Stop this at once. You’re ruining everything. The ill feeling started when Mr Carstairs accidentally ran over Granny’s pet dog. It’s wicked of you to even suggest that Jack is related to Izzie.’

  Isabel tugged at Jack’s arm. ‘Take me home, Jack. I won’t listen to these awful lies.’

  He hesitated, glaring at Ivy. ‘You can’t prove any of this.’

  ‘I don’t have to. Just ask your mother. She might tell you that you were a seven-month baby, but I saw you the day after you were born and you were a bonny boy, unlike any premature baby I’ve ever seen, and I was a midwife for thirty years.’

  Isabel clamped her hand to her mouth. ‘I feel sick.’ She ran from the room.

  ‘You’d better go after her, Jack,’ Miranda said anxiously. ‘She’s had enough upsets this evening.’

  ‘Best she knows now.’ Ivy drained her glass, holding it out hopefully. ‘I need a stiff one after all this, Miranda.’

  Jack snatched the glass from her hand. ‘You’ve had quite enough, you evil old woman. I think you’d better leave here now, before I really lose my temper.’

  Miranda caught him by the sleeve. ‘You can’t turn her out at this time of night, Jack. Why don’t you take Izzie home?’

  ‘I’m not leaving here until this woman admits that it’s just spiteful tittle-tattle.’

  Ivy rose to her feet, breathing heavily. ‘I’m going to bed. My advice to you, Jack, is to speak to Maggie. It’s time it all came out in the open, and if your little girlfriend wants to know more detail, then she must ask her father. Max Carstairs was the Casanova of his day, and probably still is.’ She sailed out of the room, swaying from side to side.

  Jack made to follow her but Miranda tightened her hold on his arm. ‘Let her go. You won’t get any sense out of her tonight. Izzie’s more important right now.’

  ‘What a bloody awful mess. Do you believe her, Miranda?’

  ‘I don’t know. It’s horrible, but I never really bought that story about poor old Houdini being the cause of the rift between the families. It was just an accident, and the dog survived.’

  He shook his head. ‘I can’t believe that Mother would do something like that. I’ve always thought that she and Father are a devoted couple.’

  ‘And so they are, but it’s just possible Ivy could be telling the truth. Granny was young and lonely and she must have been very attractive in those days.’

  ‘But it’s got to be lies. I’m a Beddoes through and through. I even look like the old man.’ He stared into the mirror above the mantelpiece, frowning.

  ‘Of course you do.’ Miranda hoped she sounded more convincing than she was feeling. It was quite possible for Jack’s dark hair and eyes to be a throw-back to a distant ancestor, even though the rest of the family were on the auburn side of fair. ‘Please go and find Izzie. She must be feeling dreadful. It’s been a ghastly evening and the poor girl has had a terrible time.’

  ‘Yes,’ he said slowly. ‘Yes, I will. We’ll get over this, Miranda. Unfortunately I have to be back at the aerodrome tonight, but Mother should have warned me about this, or at least have cut Ivy off her Christmas card list. I can’t think why she panders to that woman.’

  ‘Neither do I, but you need to calm down before you talk it over with Granny. If you start shouting at her you’ll only make things worse.’

  ‘You’re right, of course. I’ll take Izzie home and hope that she doesn’t finish with me after this debacle.’

  ‘I’m sure she won’t. Anyway, I’ve got to head off for East Anglia tomorrow, so it might be some time before I see you again. Goodbye, Jack, and good luck.’

  He bent down and kissed her on the forehead. ‘Take care of yourself, Miranda.’

  Overcome with exhaustion, she sank down on the sofa. She heard the door close softly and she was alone, but the atmosphere was still charged with emotion. The evening had been a total disaster and she realised sadly that nothing would ever be quite the same again.

  It was some time before she could summon up the energy to go upstairs to her room. As she mounted the stairs she could see a sliver of light beneath the door to her grandfather’s study and she was tempted to run to him as she ha
d done when she was in trouble as a child, but this problem was bigger than anything she had encountered in the past, and she wondered how much or how little he knew. She could only hope that he had never heard the spiteful gossip. She could not imagine a world where her grandparents were anything but the solid rock to which the family still clung.

  It came to her in the early hours of the morning. The one way to discover the truth would be to ask Annie, who had worked at Highcliffe since she left school. She went back to sleep determined to get up early and be downstairs when Annie arrived to begin preparations for breakfast.

  She found her next morning collecting eggs from the hen house. Annie glanced up from her task. ‘You’re up early.’

  ‘I wanted to speak to you in private.’

  ‘If it’s about Elzevir I’ve already given him a good telling off. He won’t do anything like that ever again.’

  ‘I’m sure he’ll have listened to you, but that’s not what I wanted to ask you.’

  Annie straightened up, gazing at the eggs in her basket. ‘The hens don’t lay much this time of year. I’ll be glad when spring comes. What was it you wanted to know?’

  Miranda took a deep breath. ‘There was a bit of a scene last night, not the one where the chaps got drunk, but after that. Ivy had had quite a lot to drink and she told Jack that …’ She hesitated, searching for the right words.

  ‘So it’s come out at last.’ Annie started back towards the house. ‘I can guess what she said.’

  ‘About Granny and Max Carstairs?’

  ‘She should have told you all long ago. These things have a habit of popping up when you’re least expecting them to.’

  ‘Annie, I’ve got to leave after breakfast. I haven’t got much time to find out the whys and wherefores. Tell me, did Granny really have an affair with Mr Carstairs, or is it just spiteful gossip?’

  ‘Of course she did. Who wouldn’t in the circumstances? It would have taken a saint to refuse him when he was younger. He was better looking than all those Hollywood film stars and twice as charming. They first met when he studied medicine with your grandfather in London, and he turned up again in Kenya. Then he arrives on the doorstep here: she was lonely and he was single. That’s about it.’

  Miranda did not know whether to be shocked or amused by Annie’s matter-of-fact attitude to an affair that might still wreck the family. ‘And was he Jack’s father?’

  Annie shrugged her shoulders. ‘Who knows? I certainly don’t, and I doubt if your gran does either. The major came home just in time if you ask me. It would never have worked with Max and your gran. They were too much alike; both of them had a wild streak, but your gran needed someone solid and dependable like the major. I don’t see as how it matters now after all these years.’

  ‘Jack brought Isabel Carstairs with him last night. He announced their engagement, and then he overheard Ivy telling me about the affair, and so did Izzie. It’s all a terrible mess, Annie. I don’t know what to do.’

  ‘Nothing is the answer, my girl. Tell Ivy to keep her mouth shut and leave it to Jack to work things out for himself. That’s my advice.’

  ‘Ivy probably won’t remember a thing about last night anyway.’

  ‘How about a couple of boiled eggs for breakfast? I’m not wasting them on that troublemaker Ivy Kirk. She’s got more skeletons in her cupboard than anyone in the town.’ She stomped off towards the house, almost bumping into Maggie as she came flying round the corner.

  ‘Did the gypsies get my hens? Or was it the fox?’

  Annie gave her a pitying look. ‘Nothing’s happened to your precious chickens.’ She held the basket under Maggie’s nose. ‘No gyppos, no foxes. See.’

  ‘Thank goodness for that.’ Maggie held her hand out to Miranda. ‘Come and have some breakfast, darling. It’s such a shame you have to leave today.’

  ‘Coming, Granny.’ Miranda went in to breakfast feeling much more hopeful.

  Her grandmother’s cheerful mood made everything that had happened the night before seem like a bad dream. It had been a shock to realise that Granny and Max had been lovers, but perhaps the rest was just Ivy being spiteful, and hopefully Jack would have managed to convince Izzie that it was small town tittle-tattle. Miranda finished her boiled eggs and soldiers. ‘That was lovely, thank you, Annie.’

  ‘I’ve packed some Marmite sandwiches for you.’ Annie cast a sideways glance at Maggie. ‘We’re out of cheese until Farmer Drake is in a generous mood or needs some embrocation.’

  Maggie frowned. ‘I’m not stupid. I know what was going on last night. I could hear them as we came out of the air raid shelter.’

  ‘It was something and nothing, Granny,’ Miranda said hastily. ‘We put a stop to it.’

  ‘And thank God you did. If Judge Walters had caught a whiff of that beastly stuff he’d have had no choice but to report your grandfather to the police. I’ve told George that it has to stop. He’s to dismantle the still and forget about making benzene, or he’ll end up in prison.’ She paused, listening. ‘There’s someone at the front door. I can’t think who it would be at this time of the morning. Go and see who it is, Miranda. I’m going to take a cup of tea up to your grandfather. If it’s gypsies selling pegs or lucky heather, tell them to go away.’

  Chapter Thirteen

  MIRANDA OPENED THE front door and stood transfixed, staring at Raif with a mixture of shock and disbelief.

  He took off his peaked cap and tucked it under his arm. ‘May I come in?’

  He did not look angry, but his impassive expression made it impossible to gauge his mood. ‘If you’ve come to make trouble, then I’d rather you didn’t.’

  ‘I haven’t come to make trouble as you put it, but I would like to speak to your grandparents.’

  ‘No. I’m sorry, but I won’t let you upset them. This has nothing to do with you.’

  ‘It has everything to do with me. My sister is in a terrible state, and I want to know why. She won’t tell me anything, but I know it has something to do with Jack. She let it slip that they’d been here last night.’

  ‘I think you ought to speak to Izzie again, or have it out with Jack. It’s got nothing to do with Granny and Grandpa.’ She was about to close the door but he put his foot over the sill.

  ‘I’m not the enemy, Miranda. Believe me, I’m sick and tired of the family feud, but when it affects my sister then I have to act. It’s no good asking Jack. He’ll just give me a load of bull; he’s good at that.’

  Miranda could hear her grandmother’s footsteps approaching from the direction of the kitchen and she stepped outside, closing the door behind her. ‘I’ll tell you anything you want to know.’ She led him to the shrubbery where they could not be seen from the house. ‘What did Izzie say exactly?’

  ‘She was in floods of tears last night when I came home, but she refused to tell me what went on here. I was hoping for some answers.’

  ‘Izzie and Jack are in love. Can’t you understand that?’

  He met her angry gaze with a steady look. ‘I’m not as unfeeling as you think.’

  ‘But you hate Jack.’

  He shook his head. ‘I don’t hate him, but I don’t think he’s right for Izzie. Do you?’

  ‘I think they make each other happy. Isn’t that enough?’

  ‘There’s something you’re not telling me, and I’m not leaving until I know exactly what happened last night.’

  Miranda shivered, wishing that she had thought to put her greatcoat on over her uniform as sleety rain began to fall from a pewter-coloured sky. ‘Come round to the veranda. We can talk there without getting soaked.’

  ‘Lead the way.’ He followed her to the relative shelter of the veranda.

  She wrapped her arms around her body in an attempt to keep warm. ‘I suppose you know that my father died in action,’ she said, raising her voice to make herself heard over the crashing of the waves and the wind soughing in the pine trees at the side of the house.

  ‘No. I didn’t
, and I’m truly sorry.’

  ‘My grandmother took it badly. She decided to hold a sort of wake in his memory. I didn’t think it was a particularly good idea, but it wasn’t up to me to tell her so.’

  ‘I don’t quite understand what this has to do with my sister.’

  ‘Granny must have told Jack about the party and he decided to bring Izzie and announce their engagement.’ She could see that this shocked him and she laid her hand on his sleeve. ‘Didn’t she tell you?’

  ‘No.’ His lips twisted into a wry smile. ‘Izzie doesn’t tell me anything these days.’

  ‘Granny was pretty horrible to her, but Jack wouldn’t let it go, and then there was an air raid, and to cut a long story short, at the end of the evening Izzie overhead something that upset her.’

  ‘Which had to do with Jack?’

  ‘It’s just spiteful gossip.’

  ‘Go on, please.’

  ‘It seems that years ago my grandmother and your father had an affair, and it’s just possible that Jack is your half-brother. I’m sorry, I can’t dress it up.’

  He was silent for a moment, staring at the roiling waves crested with white horses, and then he turned his head slowly to meet her anxious gaze. ‘Who told you this?’

  ‘That’s not important, but first thing this morning I asked Annie if it was true. She’s worked for my family for more than forty years, and there’s almost nothing that escapes her. Anyway, she admitted that my granny and your dad had a thing going while Grandpa was serving abroad. I’m sorry, Raif.’

  He took her in his arms, holding her in a passionless gesture of mutual comfort. ‘I am too, Miranda. I was rotten to you, and I apologise unreservedly. We’re all victims in this, but it’s how we deal with it that really matters.’

  ‘You’re not angry?’ She drew away, gazing into his eyes.

  ‘I don’t know what I feel. If my father and your grandmother had an affair it must have been quite a long time before he met Mother, although that doesn’t excuse his behaviour. I always knew that he was a ladies’ man, but I didn’t think he’d go so far as to seduce the wife of a former colleague.’