by Anne Mather
Joanna sank back in her chair. ‘And—and Anya?’ she murmured, almost inaudibly.
‘Oh, she was with them, of course.’ Marcia shook her head. ‘Poor little thing! She used to worship her mother. It must have been a terrible shock to her to hear that Elizabeth intended to abandon her.’
Joanna stared at her. ‘Abandon her?’
‘Why, yes.’ Marcia nodded. ‘The man her mother was leaving Jake for was a much older individual. A Dutchman, actually. He had stacks of money but no desire for a readymade family. In consequence, Elizabeth was leaving Antonia to Jake.’
‘Then that’s why——’
‘—she’s so wild? Of course.’ Marcia nodded again. ‘And why she refuses to respond to feminine guidance.’
‘Poor Anya!’ Joanna was shocked. ‘I never guessed.’ But it explained why the child had denied being with them on the night of the crash. She could well imagine that the scene that had preceded it was something Anya would like to erase from her memory.
‘Poor Jake,’ said Marcia now. ‘She certainly ruined his life. He used to be so—different. I don’t know why he ever married her. She’d already had one husband, one family, and abandoned them. She was such a cold creature. Beautiful—but cold.’
‘I expect he loved her,’ said Joanna tautly, looking down into the dregs left in her glass. ‘People do love—unwisely.’
Marcia looked at her curiously. ‘That has a distinctly dolorous ring. Do I detect a personal experience?’
‘No. Oh, no.’ Joanna managed to adopt a half amused, half protesting tone. ‘Heavens, I was only voicing my thoughts aloud. But I do feel for—for Antonia. And for your brother.’
‘I believe you do,’ said Marcia, with a wry grimace. ‘What a pity you couldn’t stay the course. I really believe you might have succeeded where everyone else failed. Perhaps I should have a word with Jake. Ask him what game he thinks he’s playing.’
‘Oh, no—please. I mean—please don’t!’ Joanna pushed herself to the edge of the seat and deposited her glass on the low table close by. ‘Your brother is not the kind of man to respond to—to——’
‘Coercion?’ Marcia supplied wryly. ‘No, I know. But it’s not good for Antonia to be pushed about from pillar to post.’ She made an apologetic gesture. ‘Forgive me, I don’t mean to imply that you’re either a pillar or a post, but you know what I’m trying to say. There’s no stability in the child’s life.’
Joanna hesitated. ‘Do you think Jake—do you think your brother will return to London eventually?’ she asked tightly, hoping her slip had gone unnoticed, and Marcia frowned.
‘Who knows? He seems to have convinced himself that he’ll never be able to work again. Work at his old job, that is. Personally I think he should try once more. His mental condition was not permanent. The doctors believed the symptoms could be psychosomatic, but no one’s ever put it to the test.’
Joanna nodded, but the appearance of Megan to announce that dinner was ready curtailed their conversation, and there was no further opportunity to pursue it.
Mrs Seton was home when Joanna arrived back at the flat; but she was not alone. A man in late middle age was seated on the couch in the living room, sharing the coffee her mother had prepared. They both received a distinct shock at Joanna’s appearance, and she had to explain that she had left a note for her mother in her bedroom.
‘Of course, I haven’t been in there since Charles and I got home,’ Mrs Seton said reprovingly, making Joanna feel as if she had deliberately deceived them, and her introduction to Brigadier Lawson was distinctly embarrassing, on both sides. ‘Why on earth did you go out as soon as you got home?’ her mother persisted impatiently. ‘Couldn’t you have made do with a sandwich for once? I know there’s not a lot in the fridge, but I didn’t expect you, did I?’
Joanna sighed. ‘Aunt Lydia insisted,’ she said, making a strategic withdrawal. ‘I’ll see you in the morning, Mummy. Goodnight, Brigadier.’
In her own room, she sank down on to the bed exhaustedly. It had been a long day. A long, tiring day, with nothing at the end of it but loneliness and disappointment. Why had she imagined coming home would effect any change? She loved Jake. There was no escaping that fact, and without him there would never be anything but loneliness and disappointment.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
A WEEK later, she viewed her future with no less apprehension. Her efforts to find another job had been met with the same opposition as before, and without the month’s salary Jake had paid her, in spite of her protests, she would have been dependent on her mother for every penny. As it was, she used her money frugally, walking or taking buses everywhere she had to go, grateful that her wardrobe at least did not proclaim her the pauper she was. But how long that would last if she did not find another job, she didn’t care to speculate, and she was rapidly coming to the conclusion that any job would be better than nothing.
She arrived home late one afternoon, about ten days after her return from Ravengarth, feeling particularly depressed. She had just had an interview with the manager of a department store who was recruiting extra staff for the Christmas season, and his deprecation of her lack of experience had left her feeling raw and wounded. She guessed he had enjoyed setting her down, but his remarks about the availability of schoolgirls happy to take a part-time job at half the salary she had expected had struck home, and she was feeling distinctly tearful as she stepped out of the lift at the eighth floor.
The sight of the child sitting disconsolately outside the door of the flat dispelled her own problems, however. She could hardly believe the cross-legged figure was who she thought it was, but as she hastened towards her, Anya looked up, and Joanna knew she was not mistaken.
‘Anya! she exclaimed, hurrying towards her, and the girl got obediently to her feet, watching her approach with uneasy defiance.
She didn’t look a lot different from the first occasion Joanna had seen her. For one thing, she had reverted to her old boyish clothes, and the torn anorak, that had since been replaced by an attractive new red one. Her hair was screwed up beneath the old cap, and her face was streaked, as if in spite of her defiance she was not totally immune to tears. Joanna’s heart went out to her, and in her own emotional state she felt more like gathering the child into her arms than admonishing her for running away. For that was what she must have done, though how or why she had found her way to Cavendish Court, Joanna couldn’t imagine.
‘Hello, Anya,’ she said now, adopting a deliberately casual tone. ‘Where have you come from?’
Anya sniffed, rubbing her nose with her sleeve. ‘I came off the train,’ she declared, daring contradiction. ‘I travelled all the way by myself.’
Joanna’s fingers tightened round her handbag. ‘And your father? Does he know where you are?’ she probed, knowing full well he would not, and Anya shook her head.
‘He went away,’ she said, offhandedly. ‘He won’t be worrying about me. Besides, I wanted to see you. To ask you to come back again.’
Joanna didn’t know what to say. This was so unexpected. So unbelievable! And while she was flattered that Anya approved of her sufficiently to make this impulsive journey to London, she guessed that Jake would view the situation with different eyes.
Gathering her thoughts with difficulty, Joanna fumbled in her bag for the key her mother had given her, while Anya continued her explanations. ‘I rang the bell, but no one answered,’ she said, as Joanna inserted her key in the lock. ‘I guessed you were out, so I sat down to wait until you got back.’
Joanna shook her head. She wondered with slight hysteria how her mother would have reacted if she had been at home, or if she had returned to find this pale-faced waif on her doorstep. She was not the type to respond to the poignancy of Anya’s situation. Her disparaging comments when Joanna had given her a sketchy explanation of why she had left Ravengarth had been less than encouraging. It was obviously her opinion that she was well out of it, but on the whole Mrs Seton was far too busy with h
er own affairs to pay too much attention to her daughter.
Now, Joanna breathed a sigh of relief for Brigadier Lawson’s persistence. At his invitation, her mother was spending the weekend at his country home in Wiltshire, and in consequence she and Anya would not be interrupted.
‘Do you live here alone?’ asked the girl, as Joanna went around, switching on lamps and drawing the heavy curtains over the windows. ‘It’s very nice, isn’t it? And lovely and warm. It was cold sitting out in the corridor.’
‘I expect it was,’ murmured Joanna absently, taking off her coat. ‘Anya, what did you mean when you said your father was away? Where is he? When is he coming back? Don’t you think I ought to get in touch with him?’
She had to follow Anya, who had wandered out of the living room as she was speaking, and she found the little girl in her bedroom, exclaiming over the furry pyjama case that resided on her bed.
‘This is sweet, isn’t it?’ she said delightedly as Joanna came into the room. ‘Does he have a name? Does he share the flat with you?’
‘It’s my mother’s flat, actually,’ said Joanna, leaning thoughtfully against the door frame. ‘Anya, where’s your father? He must have told you where he was going.’
‘No, he didn’t.’ Anya spoke carelessly. ‘He hasn’t said much at all since you went away. It’s been awful—all miserable and everything.’ She pulled a face. ‘And when I asked him if I could ride Mr Trevor’s horse, he was really angry. I thought he was going to explode!’ She shrugged. ‘Then he went away …’
Joanna didn’t know what to say. Jake’s attitude did not surprise her, and yet she would have thought that now her disruptive presence had been removed, he would have had more patience with the child.
‘Where’s your mother?’ Anya asked now. ‘Will she be coming back soon? Will she mind if I stay here?’
‘Stay here?’ echoed Joanna faintly, and then shook her head. Obviously the child would have to stay here tonight, but somehow she would have to get a message to Matt and Mrs Parrish, who would no doubt be half out of their minds with worry at Anya’s disappearance. If only there was a telephone! But Ravengarth was not connected to the telephone system, and Jake had had no reason to make contact with the outside world.
‘I can stay here, can’t I?’ Anya was asking now, anxiously, and Joanna reassured her.
‘Of course,’ she said, moving her shoulders in a helpless gesture. ‘You can sleep in my mother’s bed—she’s away. But first, you must take a bath. However did you get so dirty?’
Anya grimaced, putting down the pyjama case and looking down at herself with critical eyes. ‘I ‘spect it was the coal wagon,’ she volunteered amazingly. ‘The driver said he’d give me a lift into Penrith, but it was pretty dirty inside.’
Joanna stared at her incredulously. ‘But you said you came on the train. Why didn’t you just take the bus into Penrith?’ She frowned. ‘Incidentally, how did you get the money to pay for your ticket?’
Anya sighed. ‘I borrowed it. The money, I mean.’
‘You mean you just—took it?’
‘I didn’t steal it, if that’s what you mean,’ declared Anya indignantly. ‘I—I had some money in a money box, that Aunt Marcia had sent me from time to time. I’m supposed to be saving it, so I borrowed some of that.’
‘And the bus?’
‘If I’d caught the bus, someone would have seen me and probably sent me back,’ explained Anya reluctantly.
‘You didn’t let anyone know where you were going?’ Joanna’s worst fears were realised.
‘No.’
‘Oh, Anya!’
‘They won’t worry,’ the girl exclaimed eagerly. ‘Matt will think I’ve gone to the usual place.’
‘The shepherd’s hut?’
‘Yes.’
‘And what if he’s already found you’re not there?’
‘He won’t.’ Anya hunched her shoulders. ‘They won’t look for me until tomorrow. Besides, they won’t mind when they know I’m with you.’
‘If you thought that, why did you cover your tracks so well?’ asked Joanna dryly, realising there was no point in sustaining her impatience. ‘What I’d like to know is how you knew where to find me.’
Anya pursed her lips. ‘I looked in Daddy’s desk. I knew he had a letter from you there, when you wrote about the job.’
Joanna shook her head. ‘All right, so you found me. But you agree that I have to let Mrs Parrish know where you are right now.’
‘If you say so.’
‘I do,’ Joanna sighed. ‘But how?’
Anya shrugged. ‘I don’t know. But I’m hungry. Do you think I might have something to eat?’
‘Oh, of course.’
Belatedly, Joanna realised the child had probably not eaten at all that day, and while Anya tucked into scrambled eggs and bacon, she racked her brains trying to think of some way of contacting Ravengarth.
The solution was obvious when it occurred to her. She was helping Anya dry herself after taking a bath in the blue and gold luxury of her mother’s bathroom when the answer provided itself. She would ring Trevor’s farm and ask whoever was there to relay the message. Despite Jake’s possible anger when he discovered what she had done, his dislike of involving his neighbours in his affairs could be overlooked in this instance.
Mrs Trevor herself answered the phone after Joanna had got the number from Enquiries, but although she was obviously intrigued as to why both Joanna and Anya should be calling from London, she agreed to deliver the message. Joanna rang off before she could ask any more pertinent questions, deciding that Mrs Parrish could handle them as well as she could.
She had left Anya in the bedroom, putting on a pair of her pyjamas. However, when she returned after making the call, she found the girl had crawled between the sheets wearing only the over-sized jacket, and exhaustion had overtaken her. She was fast asleep, and looking down at the weary little face on the pillow, Joanna felt an overwhelming sense of compassion for her. Poor little scrap, she thought tenderly. So small and yet so courageous! Did Jake have any idea how much like him Anya was?
Using the rheostat, she dimmed the lights and left the room, closing the door silently behind her. She guessed Anya would sleep soundly until the morning, and she returned to the living room with the problem of Jake still on her mind, and no realisable means of solving it.
On impulse, she decided to ring Marcia Hunter. Anya was her niece, after all, and it was conceivable that the woman might know where her brother was. She didn’t quite know what she was going to say when she eventually did get to speak to him, but she felt an inordinate sense of gratitude towards Anya for creating an opportunity. Even so small an encounter looked like a beacon in the gloom of her despair.
She was fortunate enough to reach Marcia just before she left for a dinner engagement. The older woman seemed surprised and pleased to hear from her, but her reactions changed to amazement when she discovered Joanna’s reasons for calling.
‘Antonia’s with you?’ she exclaimed, her voice breaking on a sound that was a mixture of disbelief and amusement. ‘Good heavens, Joanna! And Jake doesn’t know?’
‘That’s why I’m ringing you,’ explained Joanna quickly. ‘I thought you might have some idea where he is, where I might reach him. I think he ought to be told that Anya came to find me.’
‘Oh, so do I, my dear,’ exclaimed Marcia, with a light laugh. ‘Have you tried the flat? If he’s not there, I’m not sure where he might be. But you’ll probably reach him in the morning.’
‘The flat!’ Joanna’s voice mirrored her confusion. ‘What flat? What are you talking about? Do you know where—where Mr Sheldon is?’
‘Call him Jake, Joanna—I know that’s how you think of him. You let that slip the other day, didn’t you? But it wasn’t until Jake turned up here that I began to realise how the land lay.’
‘Jake—turned up——’ Joanna was completely baffled. ‘Marcia, I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking ab
out.’
Marcia sighed. ‘My dear, surely you knew Jake was in London?’
‘In London? No!’
‘Then why did you ring me?’
Joanna took a deep breath. ‘Just on the offchance that you might have heard from him.’ She paused. ‘I—why—do you know why he’s in London?’
‘Ostensibly to acquire a new governess for Antonia,’ replied Marcia quellingly. ‘At least, that’s his story.’
Joanna wet her dry lips. ‘What do you mean?’
Marcia hesitated. ‘I think you ought to talk to Jake about this, Joanna, not me. Try the flat. He might be there. If he is, you’re in luck.’
Joanna shook her head. ‘But what flat?’
‘Oh, of course, you don’t know, do you?’ Marcia paused. ‘After Elizabeth died, he sold the house they used to live in in Wimbledon and bought a flat in town, for himself and Antonia. But as you know, he gave it up and went north. However, he still owns the flat, and it’s where he usually stays if he ever comes to town. It’s less—conspicuous than a hotel, if you know what I mean.’
‘His face.’
‘I knew you’d understand.’
‘But it’s not that bad!’ Joanna made a helpless gesture. ‘He’s far too selfconscious.’
‘I know that, and you know that, but you try convincing Jake.’
‘I have,’ said Joanna dully. Then: ‘Could you give me the number of the flat, do you think? I—well, I should let him know.’
‘Of course. Just a minute.’ Marcia put down the phone for a few seconds and then returned with the dialling code and number. ‘Good luck,’ she said, as she rang off, and Joanna guessed that she would need it.
All the same, she did not immediately ring the flat. After Marcia had rung off, she sat for several minutes just staring at the phone, wondering if there was any point in exposing that vulnerable side of her once more. Jake was here to find another governess, or at least, Marcia had been told that he was, so why should she disbelieve him? Wouldn’t it be simpler all round if she just took Anya home to Ravengarth, and left before he learned what had happened and came looking for her? He was not likely to let Anya change his mind about her, and what possible good could come from inviting further humiliation?