• • •
When Grace returned home, it was getting dark. She called for Trixie, but the house was silent except for the excited panting of the dogs. She looked at her watch. She had just enough time to take them for a walk up the beach before sunset. They wagged their tails and bounded onto the sand. There was a strong wind and Grace wrapped her coat tightly around her. She thought of Evelyn and her heart went out to her, for she knew what it was to suffer. As much as she disliked the woman, she wouldn’t wish that kind of heartache on anybody.
As she strode up the sand she thought of Rufus. When she left England after the war, she had assumed she was leaving every shadow of him behind. For each corner of Walbridge was haunted by his memory, and as long as she was there she knew she’d never be free of him. But now she realized his shadow reached Tekanasset. Perhaps he had walked up that very beach. He would most certainly have gone to Crab Cove Golf Club. How strange that all these years she felt so far away from him, she was actually walking in his footsteps.
The fact that his family had once taken a house here explained why Jasper had come to the island with his band. Maybe Rufus’s parents had known Joe Hornby and given Jasper his details. She wondered when and how Rufus had died. In her memory he was still the young man she had fallen in love with. She couldn’t imagine him older. She certainly couldn’t imagine him dead. The thought made her go cold, and she put her head down to walk against the wind.
It was getting dark now. She could barely see the dogs. She turned around and walked with the wind against her back, which was much easier. She mulled over these new, troubling revelations as the dogs bounded over the dunes, frolicking in the long grasses. When she reached home, she was greeted by Freddie, waving at her from the veranda. She quickened her pace, hoping that Trixie was all right. She had been so down lately. Grace was unable to see Freddie’s expression from where she was, but as she approached she saw another person through the glass door, standing in the kitchen.
She rushed up the garden path, the dogs at her heels. Freddie opened the door to let her in. There, standing with her back against the counter, was Evelyn Durlacher. Grace was astonished. She didn’t think that, in all the years she had lived on Sunset Slip, Evelyn had ever visited her home. “Hello, Grace,” said Evelyn, smiling tightly.
Grace took in her immaculately coiffed hair, her perfectly applied lipstick and nail polish, her pearls and her fine cashmere twinset in the palest gray, and couldn’t think of anything to do other than smile back. “Hello, Evelyn. What a surprise.”
“I know, it’s long overdue. Freddie has sweetly given me a drink. You must have heard the news about Lucy. I imagine the whole island is chattering about nothing else. I’ve never needed a drink more than now.”
“Shall we go into the sitting room? It’s not very comfortable here in the kitchen.”
“Oh, I’m easy,” she replied, but Grace led her into the sitting room anyway. Evelyn was the sort of woman who was a stranger to kitchens, especially her own.
Grace had a flair for gardens, but she did not have a flair for interior decoration. The sitting room was undoubtedly the coziest on Tekanasset, but nothing coordinated and in spite of Freddie’s obsessional tidiness, it was pleasantly scruffy and disorganized. Freddie gave a grunt of irritation and disappeared into his study, where nothing was out of place. But this was Grace’s room, full of potted plants, ornamental bees, and books that overflowed from the bookcases onto every surface, along with newspapers, magazines, and Grace’s garden designs drawn on pieces of paper.
Evelyn moved a pile of sketches off the sofa and sat down. Grace chose the armchair and the dogs flopped onto the rug in front of the empty fireplace. “What a lovely room,” said Evelyn, sweeping her eyes over it.
Grace knew she was just being polite. She had seen Evelyn’s exquisitely decorated sitting room. “Thank you,” she replied, all the same. She wasn’t going to apologize for the chaos.
“I like your bees. You collect them, do you?”
Grace fingered the gold bee brooch that she always wore below her right shoulder. “I’ve always loved bees,” she replied softly.
“Well, you’re a fine beekeeper. Your honey is the best on the island.” Evelyn sighed and looked a little awkward. “You must be wondering why I’m here.”
“Well, I imagine it has something to do with Lucy. Are you hoping I’ll be able to help you find her?”
“Lord, no,” said Evelyn. “I don’t want to find her if she doesn’t want to be found.” She gave a joyless chuckle and glanced down at her manicure. “I must give up trying to control her. That’s what Bill says and I’m sure he’s right. If she wants to run off with a musician, that’s her business. That’s what Bill said, too. Let her go, were his words. So, I have let her go.”
“Oh, Evelyn, I’m sorry,” Grace said, her voice full of compassion.
Evelyn’s eyes began to shine with tears. “I’m sorry. You sound so sympathetic.” She took a gulp of wine.
“You can only do your best. Lucy’s a grown-up now. You can guide them but ultimately they will do exactly as they choose.”
“How is Trixie? Is she okay?”
“She’s fine, thank you,” Grace replied cagily. She didn’t want Evelyn spreading her daughter’s misery around the island.
Evelyn sighed and her shoulders sagged. “You might not feel very lucky, but you are lucky. You haven’t lost Trixie.”
“I would have let her go, if she had been happy,” said Grace. “That’s all one ever wants for one’s children, don’t you think?”
“Of course,” Evelyn agreed quickly. “The trouble is I thought I knew what made her happy. It turns out I didn’t know at all. But what’s going to become of her? I know nothing about this young man, except that he’s English and plays guitar and keyboard. Lucy wrote me a note saying that she’s in love and not to worry about her. She didn’t say where she was going. She didn’t take much with her, just a suitcase. I don’t know what she’s going to do for money. Bill is quite prepared to support her. She might get in touch when she runs out of the little cash she took with her.” She shrugged helplessly and sniffed. “At least, I hope so.”
“How can I help you, Evelyn?” Grace asked, wondering when she was going to tell her why she had come.
“You’re being a great help just listening, Grace.”
“I’d like to do more. Have you asked Joe where they’ve gone?”
“Yes, but he says he no longer has anything to do with them. I think Jasper was the one paying for his services, so he’s checked out, so to speak. They’re on their own.”
“Did she take her passport with her?”
“No.”
“So she’s not expecting to return to England with him?”
“I don’t think so.” Evelyn smiled sadly. “You know, after that party in the summer I went up the beach in my nightdress to find Lucy there with the other one. What was he called?”
“George.”
“That’s the one. George. They were smoking cannabis and getting up to all sorts of things, and I really lost my temper. You probably heard about it. I saw red. I didn’t think about Lucy. I thought about me and what everyone was going to say when word got around that Lucy was getting up to no good. I had let everyone know that I disapproved of them, you see.” She took a white cotton handkerchief out of her sleeve and blew her nose. “Excuse me,” she said politely. “I didn’t give them a chance. Silly, really, considering that Jasper was obviously from a very good family. I mean, he has an estate and all, so he must be well bred, mustn’t he?”
Grace didn’t want to comment on Jasper’s pedigree. “He was a very nice boy,” she said evenly.
“Well, I know we’re meant to be living through a time of change, but I’m an old-fashioned girl and I brought Lucy up to be a lady. I fear she . . .” Evelyn could barely get the words out. She pulled hersel
f together and gave a little sniff. “She has fallen into disrepute,” she choked.
Grace wanted to laugh, but she managed to keep a straight face. “It’s the 1970s, Evelyn, not the 1870s. No one is going to consider Lucy spoiled goods because she’s had a fling. I think it’s a good thing to experiment a little. In our day we were much too constrained.”
“Do you really think so?”
“Yes, I do. I only hope she doesn’t get her heart broken. Young hearts are very tender.”
“She’s broken mine,” said Evelyn, dabbing beneath her eyes, trying not to spoil her makeup. The woman looked so pathetic that Grace went to sit beside her on the sofa.
She patted Evelyn’s bony shoulder sympathetically. “Don’t be brokenhearted. You know what I think?”
“No, what do you think?”
“If you accept her the way she is, and truly let her know that you only want her happiness, I think she’ll come back.”
“Really?”
“Of course. She’s run away because you disapproved so much that she knew the only way to be with the man she loves is to run off with him.”
Evelyn swallowed. “I think you’re right.”
“It’s going to be okay.”
Evelyn gave a wan smile. “I hope so.”
“So, what did you come to see me about?” Grace asked again.
Evelyn looked sheepish. “I’m sorry we’re not friends, Grace,” she replied tightly. “We have so much in common. My Lucy and your Trixie . . .” She faltered. “With those English boys. We’ve both suffered as mothers. I just wanted to talk to you. I can’t talk to my friends.”
“Why not?”
“Oh, I just couldn’t be as candid. I can say all this to you. You understand, you see. They wouldn’t.”
“I think you should give them the chance to prove you wrong. Belle doesn’t have a mean bone in her body.”
“But I’ve been so . . . you know. I haven’t been very kind about those boys.”
“Then tell them you were wrong. Friendship is about being honest with each other and sharing your troubles as well as your triumphs. You can’t get close to someone unless you open up and expose yourself a little. I think you’ll find they’ll be very sympathetic. No one minds someone admitting they made a mistake.”
Grace felt Evelyn swell with gratitude. “Oh, thank you, Grace. You’ve been so kind.”
“I’m sure it will all work out.”
“I hope it works out for Trixie, too. I hope she finds some nice man.”
“I’m sure she will.”
Evelyn slipped her handkerchief back into her sleeve and took a deep breath. “You’re a good woman, Grace. This island’s full of complicated people, but I’ve always been sure about you.”
• • •
“What did she want?” Freddie asked when Evelyn had left.
Grace frowned. “I think she came to apologize, in her own way, for being judgmental about those boys.”
“What did she say?”
“She talked about Lucy.”
“Did she think you could find her?”
“No, she just wanted to talk to someone who understands. She said she couldn’t talk to her friends.”
“Of course she can’t talk to her friends. She’s too proud. But you’re an outsider, Grace; she doesn’t need to keep up appearances in front of you.”
“Then I’m flattered.”
“She looked cowed.”
“She’s learned compassion, I think.”
He chuckled cynically. “She’s learned that the higher you fly the harder the fall.”
Grace wanted to ask him how he had made the decision to come to Tekanasset after the war, but it was so long ago she felt foolish bringing it up now. It didn’t change anything; at least, she didn’t think it did. He raised his eyebrows. “Yes?”
“Nothing,” Grace replied.
“You looked as if you were about to ask me something.”
She shook her head. “No. I was just thinking about Evelyn. It was a surprise to see her. I think she’s always considered me beneath her.”
“Well, you’re not,” said Freddie emphatically. “This is America, thank goodness. Evelyn Durlacher is just plain Mrs. Durlacher, just like you.” He withdrew into his study again.
But Grace couldn’t stop thinking about the past. If Lord Penselwood had helped them settle in America, why hadn’t Freddie told her? What was he hiding? She poured herself a glass of wine and went back into the sitting room. She had been working on a garden design for a young couple who had just bought a property on Halcyon Street. She sat on the sofa and picked up her sketch. Once she had worked out what she would do, she would transfer the idea onto a proper plan to present to her clients. But as much as she stared at the paper, she was unable to see anything but the gardens at Walbridge Hall. She put down her sketch and took a sip of wine. Then she curled her feet under her and rested her head on the pillow. When she closed her eyes, the past was always there, right beneath her eyelids.
Chapter 17
Walbridge, England, 1938
May had suggested that Grace sort out her father’s belongings before the wedding. “This is going to be yours and Freddie’s home soon. You don’t want the only other bedroom in the house stuffed full of Arthur’s things.” She had smiled at Grace knowingly. “After all, it won’t be long before you have little ones to think about.” Grace had smiled back, her eyes full of tenderness at the thought of children. “You and Freddie will have such beautiful babies,” May had gushed. “And I’ll be a grandmother. Goodness, who’d have ever thought I’d grow to be so old!”
In his will, Arthur had left everything to Grace. Fortunately, he wasn’t a man who hoarded things. His bedroom had been kept neat and tidy, and anything of importance was stored in a chest of drawers at the end of the bed.
May and Grace set to work on a Saturday in late November. Rain clattered against the windowpanes and the sun never managed to penetrate the thick cloud that hung like stodgy porridge just above the treetops.
Grace made them both cups of tea. She had been so anxious about going through her beloved father’s possessions that she hadn’t slept at all. Pepper had snored loudly on the end of her bed, which was a great comfort to her, alone in the house, and as much as she longed for her father to appear, as she was sure he had done the night he died, she saw nothing but the usual shadows on the wall. She now felt raw from tiredness and emotionally fragile.
“Come,” said May, carrying her mug of tea up the stairs. “Pepper will keep us company, won’t you, Pepper? Just think, Grace, in just under a month you’ll be Mrs. Valentine. Mrs. Freddie Valentine. I can’t believe my boy is going to have a wife.” She rattled on and Grace knew she was trying to keep her spirits up. They reached Arthur’s bedroom door and May gently pushed it. Her father’s familiar smell enveloped her in a miasma of memories and Grace felt her sorrow rise up from her stomach in a great wave, but she sipped her hot tea and swallowed hard, managing to overcome it.
May switched on the light and swept her eyes over the room. “Well, he was very organized, wasn’t he?”
“Yes,” Grace replied. “It won’t take long. He didn’t have much.”
May sat on the bed and looked at the black-and-white photograph of Grace’s parents. “She was a nice looker, your mother. Just like you.”
“I wonder whether they’re together now, in Heaven.”
“Of course they are,” said May, picking up the photo. “I think you should keep this. It’s precious.” She handed it to Grace, who gazed at it forlornly. “Now, we’ll start with his clothes. What would you like me to do with them?”
Grace looked uncertain. “I don’t know. What do you think? Would Uncle Michael wear any of his things? He had a nice jersey or two.”
“Let’s see. Anything we don’t want to ke
ep can be given away.”
• • •
Once they’d sorted the clothes, they turned their attention to the chest of drawers. Grace opened the top drawer and pulled out a walnut box. Inside there was a silk scarf, a small velvet box, a notebook, and a plain white envelope with her name on it. She carefully put the box down and opened the envelope. Inside, there was a letter.
My dearest Gracey,
As much as we like to think we will live forever, we are mortal and the time will eventually come for me to leave you. With this in mind I put pen to paper, although it grieves me very much to do so.
I leave everything to you, Gracey. It gives me pleasure now to think of you taking care of all my books. They, as you are aware, are my most treasured possessions, besides the contents of this box and my beehives. The only thing dearer to me is you.
As you know, I loved your mother very much. She hadn’t had time to accumulate much during her life, so these are the few possessions of hers that I treasured. I write this letter as a precaution because I hope to be alive to give you these things personally. I hope to see you married to a nice man who will take care of you. I hope to enjoy grandchildren one day, but only God knows when it’s time, so I take nothing for granted. It seems macabre to be writing to you like this, when I’m upstairs and you’re outside in the garden with the bees. But one must be practical.
If the worst happens and I die before you are married, I am aware that you will no longer have a roof over your head. Uncle Michael and Auntie May will look after you, so please don’t be too proud to ask for help. Don’t be so farsighted that you’re blind to what’s under your nose, either. Freddie is a kind young man. I believe that kindness is a quality much underrated these days. I don’t know much about romance, but I know enough about friendship, respect, and love to know that you and Freddie have the necessary qualities to make a happy union. I’m not telling you what to do, just nudging you in what I believe to be the right direction. If I’m dead, you won’t be able to tell me to mind my own business!
My dearest, I leave you this box, with my love and your mother’s love. Don’t forget that we’ll always be with you.
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