by Anna Jacobs
Phoebe decided the news couldn’t wait any longer and planned to tell Corin when they went to bed. At least no one could disturb them there. But he was delayed by Captain Turner asking him if he could spare a moment, and she fell asleep before he joined her.
When she woke, Corin was beside her, smiling, and she decided she wasn’t letting him leave the bedroom till he knew he was going to become a father. She rang for Ethel to bring them a tea tray.
‘We’ll have breakfast half an hour later than usual,’ she told the maid and could see Ethel smile fondly at them both, as if she understood what was going on.
Corin lay back against the pillows, his eyes gleaming. ‘Any particular reason for that instruction?’
‘My reason isn’t what you’re hoping for – at least, not yet.’
He tried to pull her to him for a kiss, but she held him off. ‘Not yet, darling. I have something very important to tell you first.’ She took a deep breath. ‘I— I mean, we are expecting a baby.’
He stared for a moment open-mouthed, then beamed and pulled her closer. ‘Why didn’t you tell me as soon as I got back?’
‘You were so sad, and then there didn’t seem to be a quiet moment. I wanted us to have time to rejoice together about our coming child. I meant to tell you last night, but I fell asleep. I seem to need more sleep these days.’
‘You haven’t been sick in the mornings. I thought women were sick a lot.’
‘Some are, some aren’t. I must be one of the lucky ones.’
She snuggled against him as his arm went round her, resting her head in the crook of his shoulder. If only they could be together like this every morning! They’d got married during a war that seemed to have been going on forever so they’d never had a normal life.
‘Have you seen the doctor about your condition?’
‘No. It’s early days and I’ve spoken to Mrs Archer in the village. She was a trained nurse before she married Peter Archer. She’s a very experienced registered midwife, with a certificate from the Royal College of Physicians of Ireland, no less. I’ve spoken to her and I liked her manner. Indeed, she’s well thought of by everyone in the district, including Miss Bowers.’
‘That’s good but I want you to have a doctor’s care as well. You’re far too important to me to take any risks.’
‘Oh, pish! What risks? I’m feeling fine. Having children isn’t an illness. It’s a perfectly natural thing.’
‘We must tell the maids, so that they don’t let you lift anything heavy.’
She chuckled. ‘They’ve not said anything but it’s clear they’ve guessed. We live too closely together for them not to notice certain signs.’
‘Nonetheless, I shall ask them to take particular care of you. Oh, my darling, isn’t it wonderful?’
They lay closely entwined in blissful silence, then he stirred. ‘Do you know when it’s due?’
‘Early June. We’ll have plenty of time to think about names and discuss them on your next leave.’
‘If it’s a boy, my family usually alternates Corin and Angus for the firstborn sons.’
She wrinkled her nose, not pleased by this suggestion. ‘You’re the only Corin I want, and I’m not fond of Angus for a name, though I suppose we could use it as a second name if you feel strongly about it. I like the name Robert, actually.’
‘Hmm. Not bad. We’ll see. What about girls’ names?’
‘I can’t seem to think of those. Perhaps that means it’s going to be a boy. I’m certainly hoping so. If I give you a son, your home can stay in the family, because a male can’t inherit Greyladies. It isn’t even certain a daughter would, because something mysterious always leads to the next chatelaine, and the only thing certain is that she will be a Latimer.
When Phoebe had first come to the house, she’d not known anything about the legend of the grey ladies, or the wonderful trust fund that provided money to help less fortunate women.
After a few more quiet moments, he nuzzled her neck. ‘Are you still able to pleasure your poor deprived husband? I won’t press you, if you don’t feel like it.’
‘Always ready for you.’ She lifted her face for his kiss.
They were even later going down to breakfast than she’d intended and she blushed as she met Ethel’s knowing gaze.
After they’d eaten, Corin went down to the village on his own, claiming he needed a brisk walk but in reality intending to speak sharply to this Hatterson fellow, and also to size him up.
A little dab of a woman opened the door to him and said her husband was away, then tried to close the door as he was saying something.
Corin put out one hand to stop her. ‘Wait a moment, please. Where is Mr Hatterson? I need to see him urgently.’
She shook her head. ‘Sidney wouldn’t like me discussing his business with anyone else, and anyway, I don’t know where he is.’
‘Well, when is he coming back?’
‘He wasn’t certain.’
‘Does he often go away like this?’
She hesitated, then said, ‘Please understand … since Sidney’s lost his leg he’s changed. He’s always angry, even though we inherited his old uncle’s house and aren’t short of money. You can’t really blame him for being upset about the leg, though. He was a very active man. If he’s upset you, I’m sorry.’
In spite of himself he felt for her. ‘It must be hard for you, as well.’
She shrugged. ‘I’m not the only woman whose husband has been changed by the war.’
‘Well, it’s important that I see him in person, so I’ll call again tomorrow.’
She gave a small nod of farewell and closed the door quietly.
He heard the bolt slide and wondered why she felt the need to lock up.
He didn’t take her word about her husband’s absence, but called on Miss Bowers, who confirmed that Mr Hatterson had gone away in a motor car with another two men in the early hours of the morning, waking her and the other neighbours up.
‘The men were strangers, not people from hereabouts and the car wasn’t one I’d ever seen before.’
He knocked at the house across the road, but the woman there couldn’t tell one car from another. ‘All I know is I don’t want to see it again. Woke the baby, it did, and it was two hours before I could get him to sleep again.’
Old Mr Diggan was passing in the street and, as he lived next to the Hattersons, Corin asked him if he knew anything.
‘Well, I know they woke me. I looked out of the window to see what was going on, but he was just getting into a car. I think the same men have called for him before. They may be friends of his, if he has any friends. What did his wife say?’
‘Not much.’
‘Never does. He does enough talking for them both. I hear his voice sometimes if the window’s open. On and on he goes, talking at her, not chatting, if you know what I mean. And he thumps her. She tries to hide it, but I’ve heard her scream, heard the furniture knocked over and seen the bruises. I never thought I’d have a neighbour like that in Challerton! No, I did not.’
‘Well, thank you for your help.’ Corin walked slowly back to the big house, wondering now whether Hatterson had left Challerton to avoid him. Surely not? The man wouldn’t have known he was expected back. What was going on here, then? Why leave in the middle of the night?
Whatever it was, he hoped Hatterson wouldn’t continue to rant on about Huns. People could turn very nasty about the presence of Germans, and had already in some parts of England, smashing businesses and looting them, injuring the poor foreigners, who had nothing to do with the war.
And why these people would attack his wife and the rear house, which didn’t contain any Germans, was beyond his understanding. All he knew was that he felt helpless to protect his wife. Unfortunately, the army and the war waited for no man, so he would have to leave in two days’ time.
Perhaps Captain Turner would be able to use the attack as an excuse for getting more men posted to Greyladies?
He answered that thought himself as soon as it popped into his mind. That wasn’t likely.
General Sir Douglas Haig had taken over command of the British Expeditionary Force in Europe, and rumour among the officers was that he believed in all-out offensives. That would take more men away from Britain. And it’d kill more men in that hell across the Channel. Corin didn’t think most of the civilian population understood how bad things were in the trenches, at least he hoped they didn’t.
He didn’t intend to leave Challerton without doing something to protect his wife and home. He had made it his business to get to know people in the neighbourhood earlier in the war, while he was commandant at Greyladies. He intended to ask for help and advice from one or two older men who were considered leaders in the local community.
And perhaps Miss Bowers might be able to think of something. The former headmistress of the village school was in her late seventies now, but still spry with a sharp brain. Her love for Greyladies was matched only by her love for the village and the people she’d taught in its school over the years.
He wondered sometimes about Greyladies. Sometimes chatelaines like Phoebe stayed only for a few years, as Harriet, the previous lady, had done; sometimes they stayed there for the rest of their lives.
He couldn’t help wondering into which category his Phoebe would fit, and whether he would ever live in his own home in the north again. He had more or less given up his own family inheritance when he married her, and if – when his father died, he would put in a manager and find a smaller house for his mother to live in. He’d already discussed that with her. He wasn’t selling his home.
He’d even changed his name to Latimer to marry Phoebe, and hoped he’d hidden how much that had upset him.
He hadn’t expected to love someone so deeply after his first wife and unborn baby had been killed because of her reckless driving. But then he’d met Phoebe, who wasn’t reckless and who was … simply the most wonderful woman in the world.
She would be careful now she was carrying his child, he knew, but she was also very protective about the house and that might inadvertently lead her into danger. He’d lost one wife and child, couldn’t bear even the thought of losing Phoebe.
Dammit! Why did this have to happen while he couldn’t help being away for most of the time? He wanted to be here protecting the woman he loved.
And yet his country needed his services desperately too. The battle to defeat Germany was going to be hard fought.
Edwin came into the hall bringing a swirl of cold air from outside. He hung up his outer clothes then joined Mildred and Alex in the sitting room. Putting his briefcase down on the table, he looked solemnly at his wife. ‘I have a client coming to see me in an hour’s time, so let’s get started straight away.’
She nodded and turned to Alex. ‘This is to do with your older brother.’
He was puzzled. ‘Ernest died in 1905. How is he connected with anything that happens now?’
‘We’ve found out he was secretly married and had two children.’
Alex couldn’t speak for a few seconds, he was so shocked. ‘Ernest had children?’
‘Yes.’
‘Did my mother know?’
‘We’re not sure, but your father definitely knew. We found the relevant information among his papers. As to your mother knowing … well, the documents didn’t seem to have been touched for a long time, they were so dusty.’
‘Father wouldn’t have told her,’ Alex said. ‘He was a firm believer in shielding ladies from unpleasant facts. And my mother wouldn’t even have looked at business papers.’ He frowned. ‘When did Ernest marry? He died so suddenly. How did he have time to produce two children?’
‘They were only nine months apart, a boy and a girl, and he’d been married for years.’
Alex let out a low whistle. ‘Did he make provision for them?’
‘No. Not at all.’
‘Typical of him. Do we know where they are now?’
‘We think they’re still alive but we don’t even know their names. Your father didn’t have a copy of the marriage or birth certificates among his papers.’
‘He was planning to keep the children’s existence secret, then. You know what he was like, Mildred.’
‘Yes. Edwin didn’t believe me when I told him about my uncle’s slyness.’
Her husband patted her hand. ‘I’m beginning to,’ he said grimly. ‘The last address we have was in Swindon, but I sent my clerk to check the house and Ernest’s widow and children were no longer living there. Actually, though your father didn’t make regular provision for them, he didn’t completely ignore them either. He occasionally responded to requests for specific help with things like clothing or schooling.’
‘He’d have made the mother beg for it,’ Alex commented and Mildred nodded agreement.
Edwin tapped the papers with one finger. ‘Reading between the lines, Ernest’s widow must have been a capable woman, and hard-working, because you know how difficult it is for single or widowed women to earn a decent living wage. Though Mrs Seaton may have found it easier since the war because women working in men’s jobs are getting similar pay to the men, if not quite as much.’
They all fell silent, then Alex said, ‘I wonder what his wife’s first name is. I have trouble thinking of her as “Mrs Seaton” because that brings my mother to mind.’
‘I’ve applied for a copy of the marriage certificate,’ Edwin told them. ‘That should tell us. And the birth certificates, of course. We do know the father’s full name, at least, so it should be relatively easy to find. We might even have the copies by tomorrow. We’ll know all their names then.’
‘Good. And Mildred … I think the children have a right to inherit something from the estate,’ Alex said. ‘Don’t you?’
She looked triumphantly at Edwin. ‘I told you he’d say that. Yes, of course I do, Alex.’
Edwin cleared his throat to get their attention. ‘If they wanted, the children or their guardian could make a legal fuss and try to claim a sizeable share of your mother’s estate. I wouldn’t object to Mildred giving up part of her inheritance to them – the money wouldn’t matter at all to me – but a scandal could affect me adversely and I’d object to anything that caused one. I’m about to open my own practice, you see.’
‘Then we’ll give them a decent share before they even ask,’ Alex said at once. ‘An amount they can’t quibble about.’
‘First we have to find them.’
‘It shouldn’t be too hard. Someone will know where they’ve moved to. May I read the relevant papers?’Alex took the various documents from Edwin and started to go through them. There weren’t many.
The other two chatted quietly till he’d finished.
‘Any questions?’ Edwin asked.
‘Only how best to set about it. My father’s notes show that he’d checked out the marriage and births, and was satisfied that they were Ernest’s children. Why didn’t he do more to help them? They should have been brought up as members of our family.’
Then he let out a scornful laugh. ‘No. He wouldn’t have wanted it known that my brother had married beneath him. He believed in people marrying their own sort, in breeding their children as you would horses, from good sires and dams. He once said a runt like me should never have children.’
Edwin stared at him in shock. ‘He didn’t! Oh, that’s despicable.’
Alex shrugged.
‘It looks as though he did nothing whatsoever to get to know the children, even after you left home.’
‘After I was thrown out,’ Alex corrected. ‘Well, why should he? Father was stubborn to the core, wouldn’t expect to die for many years, probably had a plan to get me back after the war and make me toe the family line. I don’t think he realised how successful I’d become financially. There was nothing he could threaten me with that would have made me go back to working with him.’
There was another of those silences before Edwin spoke. ‘Are we agreed
, then? I shall employ someone to find where the children are as soon as we have their full names.’ As the others both nodded, he frowned and added, ‘The trouble is, the man I used previously for such delicate investigations is fighting in France. I’ll have to find someone else.’
‘Shall I take that upon myself?’ Alex asked. ‘I’m used to investigating paintings or other objets d’art and I have some good connections.’
‘Thank you. That would be very helpful. It’s always best to use people you trust in such cases.’ He began to gather the papers together. ‘I’ll lock these away again. There’s no other useful information in them about the children, not even their or their mother’s names.’
Mildred looked at her cousin. ‘Well, now that’s over, do you want to stay for luncheon? We could eat early.’
‘No, thank you. I need to get back to London and I have to pick up Mrs Harbury first.’
‘I’ll get my clerk to send copies of what papers there are to you in London,’ Edwin said. ‘And now I really must go.’
‘So must I.’ Alex looked at his watch, pleased that it was only quarter past eleven. So much had happened that it ought to be later, he felt.
He was still trying to take it all in. From being a man with no close family except Mildred, he had now become an uncle. And he might find himself becoming some sort of guardian to the two children if their family was in difficult circumstances. He wouldn’t mind that.
How old would they be now? Going on for twelve, he’d guess. He hoped their mother was looking after them properly … and loving them. All children deserved love. He hoped they were getting a decent schooling, too. In this modern world, education was far more important than at the end of the last century.
He walked out to his car, wondering whether this was fate being kind to him by giving him a family. Or was it being unkind by giving him more problems to sort out?
Who could tell? It was no use starting anything today, though. He had promised to take Olivia to London and once there, to attend Babs’s party. He was looking forward to it for he wanted very much to spend more time with Olivia.