The Shadow Sister

by Lucinda Riley

  ‘Suffice to say, I will no longer have the long commute to London. I am to be posted at Ashford airbase, only a few miles away. You know already from the local newspapers that we have squadrons from the RAF and the RCAF. Plus the Yanks, of course.’

  ‘Yes.’ Flora smiled, remembering the excitement earlier in the year when the Land Girls had heard that Canadian, American and British squadrons were to be stationed there. There had been a number of dances and the girls had arrived back with chocolates and nylon stockings.

  ‘That’s very good news, darling. What will your role be?’

  ‘All I can say is, there’s something big coming. I’m to be the liaison officer between the various squadrons, organising flying rotas and the like, and helping with strategy. You know, darling, for the first time today, I really felt as though the end might be in sight.’

  ‘We’ll be awfully glad if you’re right.’ Flora put a plate in front of her husband and gazed down at him fondly.

  ‘This looks excellent, thank you,’ he said as he picked up his knife and fork. ‘Are neither of the children joining us tonight?’

  ‘No, Louise is down at the cottages with the Land Girls and Teddy is . . . out.’

  ‘As usual,’ murmured Archie.

  It was two o’clock in the morning before a sleepless Flora heard the creak of the floorboards and a door closing along the corridor. And knew that her son had finally returned home.

  ‘Where were you last night?’ Flora asked Teddy as he wandered into the busy kitchen, where both Flora and Mrs Tanit were baking and chopping in preparation for the festive season, carols playing on the radio.

  ‘Out. Do you have a problem with that, Mother? I am well over the age of consent.’ Teddy swiped two jam tarts cooling on a rack on the table. ‘And how are you this fine day, Mrs Tanit?’

  ‘I am well, thank you, sir,’ she replied.

  Flora had noticed that their housekeeper was one of the only women she knew who refused to succumb to her son’s considerable charms.

  ‘Excellent.’ He gave Mrs Tanit a bright smile. ‘So, what’s the plan for today, Mother?’

  ‘We have the villagers’ drinks at lunchtime and then your grandmother arrives at five at Ashford. Perhaps you’d be good enough to collect her from the station?’

  ‘That depends,’ Teddy replied, ambling across the kitchen to lean against the range, close to where Mrs Tanit was stirring the mulled wine. ‘The boys in the village have asked me to join them at the pub before supper. After all, it is Christmas Eve.’

  ‘It would help us all if you could collect her.’

  ‘Can’t that husband of yours do it?’ he asked Mrs Tanit, who flinched as he pressed a hand lightly to her back.

  ‘Mr and Mrs Tanit have the night off to celebrate Christmas together, as Mrs Tanit will be here tomorrow helping me cook and serve the lunch. I’m sure that your grandmother would appreciate your effort.’

  ‘Is there any bread?’ Teddy glanced around the kitchen. ‘I’m so hungry, I could eat a horse.’

  Flora pointed to the pantry. ‘There are three loaves just baked, but please take no more than a slice. We need them for sandwiches for the villagers.’

  As her son went in search of the loaves, Flora sighed. On occasion, even her patience ran out.

  ‘I think this will be a wonderful Christmas,’ Teddy said as he emerged from the pantry, munching on a fat piece of bread.

  ‘I hope so.’

  ‘And of course I will go and pick up Grandmama.’ Teddy smiled suddenly, walked over to his mother and gave her a hug. ‘Only teasing.’

  And as it turned out, it was a happy Christmas. Archie seemed more positive than Flora remembered him in a long time, engendered, she was sure, by his new posting to Ashford. Louise was, as ever, a dutiful daughter, facilitating everyone’s comfort and happiness. And even Teddy managed to control his urge to join his friends at the local pub, and remained at home until Boxing Day.

  That night, Flora and Archie fell into bed, both exhausted from the yuletide revelry.

  ‘I feel as though we have entertained the entire neighbourhood – rich and poor – at our expense.’

  ‘We have,’ Flora chuckled, thinking of all those who had passed through High Weald in the last few days. ‘But that’s the way it should be, isn’t it? After all, Christmas is about giving.’

  ‘Yes, and it is you who has given the most. Thank you, my darling.’ Archie kissed her gently. ‘And let us hope that the New Year brings the peace that we all deserve.’

  38

  The winter of 1944 seemed longer to Flora than any other. Perhaps because she, along with the rest of the world, was weary of war, weary of bad news, and weary of the falsely cheerful voice on the radio telling everyone to keep their spirits up.

  Besides that, an unusual sense of foreboding hung over her, like the tightly packed snow covering the gardens. The one bright spot during the harsh February had been a letter from William Heelis.

  Castle Cottage

  Near Sawrey

  15th February 1944

  My dear Lady Vaughan – or may I call you ‘Flora’?

  I do hope this letter finds you well. Up here, the snow is deep around me as I write and it is so very quiet now that my dearest Beatrix is not here to scold me. I write to tell you that Beatrix’s will was read out by myself, with only the cat in attendance (who, I note, has received a small bequest in the form of a tin of sardines). This was a formal procedure, legally required by the solicitor (me) and the executor (me). There will be a formal meeting of the trustees and all the beneficiaries in due course, but given the current inclement conditions, I have decided I will refrain from organising it until the snows have melted, and will conduct it in London where a number of the beneficiaries – including the National Trust – reside. You can imagine that the list is long, and there is every chance I shall have to hire a banqueting hall to accommodate them all. I jest, but it is a complex will and will take quite some sorting, and made so much more painful for this humble solicitor by the fact it is Beatrix’s.

  Now then, I wanted to inform you that Beatrix has also left you a bequest. And I enclose the short letter she wrote to you explaining it. I hope you will approve!

  Meantime, my dear Flora, let us pray that this endless winter will eventually pass and spring will arrive to give us all hope of a future. I admit that at present I am struggling to accept there will be one without my beloved wife.

  Do keep in touch, dear friend.

  William Heelis

  Removing the other envelope, Flora opened it and steeled herself to read it.

  Castle Cottage

  Near Sawrey

  20th June 1942

  My dear Flora,

  I shall make this brief, knowing that letters from beyond the grave can be maudlin.

  So to the point: I have bequeathed you a bookshop in London, which I bought some years ago now, when the family who owned it was struggling financially. Arthur Morston (that is, the great-grandson of the original namesake) died a few years back and, it having been my local bookshop when I was a child living in Kensington, and being fond of its proprietor, I took it off their hands. Sadly, I had to close it at the beginning of the war, due to staff shortages. And it is still closed to this day.

  Flora dear, you must do with it whatever you wish. The building is worth something at least. As you are so much closer to London than I, if you decide to keep it, you will make a far better employer and proprietor than I ever did. If you do sell it, I am sure that with your love for books, you will find good use for the stock. The miracle is that it has managed to survive the war – so far at least – when so many other buildings nearby have been destroyed. It is a wonderful little place, and I urge you to at least visit it before you make your decision.

  So, dear Flora, it is time to say goodbye. I will always remember the times we shared together with affection. Do keep in touch with dear William. When the time comes, I fear he will be rather lost without m
e.

  Beatrix

  ‘How very generous and thoughtful of her,’ Archie said over supper that evening. ‘When you receive the title deeds and the keys, we must go to London to see it.’

  ‘I can only hope it is still standing. I could hardly bear to find it a pile of rubble.’

  ‘Perhaps Teddy may be interested in running it? He seems to have little else to focus on these days. He cannot even rouse himself out of bed before lunchtime. And I hear from the village he is a regular every night at the local hostelry.’

  ‘He has had a terrible cold, as you know.’

  ‘We have all suffered colds this winter, Flora, but that does not preclude us from doing something useful with our days.’

  ‘I think he is depressed. His young years have been clouded by war.’

  ‘At least he has years left in front of him, unlike so many of his peers,’ Archie snapped, trying to keep his anger under control. ‘I was thinking recently that we must discuss the contents of my will. I haven’t revisited it since just after we married. High Weald is currently left to Teddy, as he is our eldest and only son, and therefore, through primogeniture, my heir, but I must admit that I’m starting to wonder about his suitability. I was thinking today that even though there is nothing I can do about the title passing directly to him, perhaps I should leave the estate in perpetuity to you, darling. Then, dependent on Teddy’s future behaviour, and also if Louise was to produce a male child, you could decide what was best to do. The way he’s conducting himself at present makes me wonder if—’

  ‘Can we talk of this some other time? Perhaps when the war is over and all has settled? With Beatrix only just cold in her grave, I really can’t stand to think about such things.’

  ‘Of course not, my darling,’ Archie reached his hand across the table to hers and squeezed it. ‘And when it is, we shall celebrate that we have all managed to make it through.’

  Flora’s spirits lifted as England inched out of winter and the first signs of spring appeared. She was also excited to see the seedlings she and Mr Tanit had planted last autumn beginning to grow. War or no war, a garden – just like a child – needed constant attention. And simply the feel of the solid earth beneath her fingers grounded her.

  Despite her cynical view of the skewed positive propaganda churned out by the War Office, even Flora felt a sea change in the Allies’ fortunes. She knew from what Archie said – and what he didn’t say – that the Allies were gearing up for some form of organised attack in Europe. Even though Archie’s hours at the airbase often extended long into the night, she could read the anticipation in his eyes.

  There was also some happy news for Louise, who had attended a dance on New Year’s Eve with Teddy, after much persuasion from Flora.

  ‘It will do you good to go up to town and take a break from your work here at High Weald,’ Flora had insisted. She’d lent Louise an evening gown, and Louise had altered it herself, her nimble fingers flying across the fabric, just as Aurelia’s had once done. Teddy had accompanied her up on the train and when Louise had arrived home a day later, Flora had noticed a new light in her eyes.

  The young man concerned was one Rupert Forbes, a bookish type whose chronic myopia had prevented him from fighting for his country. Teddy had known him vaguely at Oxford, and Louise had reported that he was now doing something in intelligence.

  ‘He can’t say what it is, of course, but I’m sure it’s terribly important. He’s very clever, Mother – he won a scholarship to Oxford to study Classics.’

  ‘Bit of a dry fellow,’ Teddy had interjected. ‘Awfully straight – even refused a second glass of champagne on New Year’s Eve!’

  ‘Not all of us have to continually drink the bar dry to find happiness,’ Louise had snapped at him.

  It was unusual for Louise to snap at anyone, let alone her beloved brother, and Flora had wondered if the comment was engendered by an urge to defend Rupert, or a growing irritation with Teddy.

  The romance between Rupert and Louise had quickly blossomed into something deeper. Both Flora and Archie had liked Rupert immediately upon meeting him and it had warmed their hearts to see the growing love the couple shared. Subsequently, just two weeks ago, the pair had announced their engagement and Rupert had come down to stay at High Weald for the weekend to celebrate. He had been fascinated by Flora’s inheritance from Beatrix and begged to be allowed to come with her when she visited the bookshop in a few weeks’ time. Enquiries had confirmed that the building had not been bombed during the Blitz, and Flora was expecting the title deeds imminently.

  Rupert, although from a good family, had no private income of his own. So Archie and Flora had agreed that the young couple should move to Home Farm across the lane, which had stood empty since the farm manager had left. She knew that, with a lick of paint, and some new curtains and furnishings, which Louise’s clever fingers would so deftly create, the house would suit the newly-weds well. And Flora already had the perfect wedding present in mind for the young couple.

  ‘Mother, can I speak to you?’

  Louise found Flora in the garden on a sunny May morning.

  ‘Of course.’ Flora stood up and studied Louise’s concerned face. ‘What is it?’

  ‘Can we sit down?’

  Louise indicated a bench in the shade, under a rose arbour that Mr Tanit had recently built.

  ‘What is it?’

  Flora could see Louise’s long fingers clasping and unclasping in agitation.

  ‘It’s . . . delicate. It concerns one of my Land Girls. And Teddy.’

  ‘Then you’d better tell me.’

  ‘I’ve known since Christmas that something was going on between the two of them. Remember the night of the Land Girls’ party when Tessie didn’t arrive?’

  ‘I do.’

  ‘Well, that night I was on my way back home from the cottages when I saw Teddy and Tessie appear from the drive of Home Farm. It was well past midnight and it confirmed what a couple of the girls had already mentioned to me.’

  ‘You mean they knew where she was?’

  ‘Yes, and with whom.’

  ‘I see.’

  ‘I hoped that the relationship would peter out – I am sure that you are aware of Teddy’s short attention span, especially when it comes to women – and it seemed to.’

  ‘Then, why do you tell me now?’

  Louise sighed deeply and looked away across the garden. ‘Because Tessie came to me yesterday in floods of tears. And announced that she was “in the family way”, as she put it. She’s pregnant, Mother, and she swears it’s Teddy’s child.’

  ‘Oh God . . .’ It was Flora’s turn to clench her fingers together in distress. ‘And is it?’

  ‘She is four months or so gone and her fiancé has been away fighting in France for the past six months, without leave. All the other girls knew she was out with Teddy until the early hours that night and covered for her. The dates fit, I’m afraid. So I’d say that it was, yes.’

  ‘And Teddy? What does he say?’

  ‘She hasn’t told him yet. He broke off the relationship after, as Tessie said, he’d finished having his way with her.’

  ‘Then I suppose he must marry her.’

  ‘He won’t. He doesn’t love her or, indeed, even like her any longer! Besides, Tessie’s a bright and very pretty young woman, but she comes from the East End of London. The two of them have nothing in common. And the child, if it’s a boy, would be the heir to High Weald. What on earth would Papa say?’

  Flora took in the ramifications of her son’s despicable actions, and then thought of Archie’s reaction if he heard the news. It would be the icing on the cake of the strained father-son relationship.

  ‘You say the woman has a fiancé?’

  ‘She does, yes. They were childhood sweethearts and have been walking out together for years.’

  ‘Do you think he might love her enough to forgive her, and take the child on as his own? She won’t be the first girl in wartime to
have suffered the same fate, after all.’

  ‘I couldn’t say, Mother, but I doubt it, don’t you?’ Louise answered carefully, her tone suggesting that Flora’s desperation was making her naive. ‘I mean, if it was Rupert, he’d leave me without a second glance. And this isn’t just about how her fiancé feels about Tessie. It’s about how Tessie feels about Teddy. She believes she is in love with him.’

  ‘From what you’ve said, Teddy quite obviously doesn’t feel the same.’

  ‘Perhaps you could speak to him? You’re the only one he seems to listen to. I swear, Mother, he’s gone quite wild in the past few months. And is gathering a reputation for his carousing locally that Papa would be shocked to hear of. Forgive me for burdening you with this, but something has to be done. And fast.’

  ‘Thank you for telling me, Louise. Leave it with me now and I will try to think what is best to do.’

  ‘I will tell Tessie that I have talked to you and that you will discuss it with Teddy.’

  Flora spent the rest of the day in the garden, wishing that Teddy could be more like the calm, composed Mr Tanit, who spoke little, yet handled both plants and animals so tenderly.

  He has compassion, she thought, wondering if her son would ever learn what the word meant.

  During a long night of watching Archie sleep peacefully next to her, Flora tried to decide what she should do. If he heard of his son’s dreadful misdemeanour, Flora knew how he would react. Honour was everything to him and she wouldn’t be surprised if he threw Teddy out of High Weald on the spot with nothing.

  That afternoon, Flora asked for Louise to send young Tessie to see her. The girl arrived in her study, her sweet face pale, her large blue eyes fearful. Flora saw the slight curve of her belly, and experienced a sudden ache in her own. Even though she and Archie had tried for a child, she had never succeeded in conceiving one. But then, she had been thirty when they had finally walked down the aisle, and a few years later Flora had known she had missed her chance.

  As she studied the girl, a moment of madness made her picture holding this child in her arms and bringing it up as her own. Teddy’s child . . . destined to be another fatherless infant. Flora dismissed the fantasy and composed herself for the confrontation.