by Ali Carter
Over the course of lunch there was hardly a mention of Alexander or his sudden death.
Perhaps understandably, given the session with the solicitor, Diana was far more concerned with herself and what was to come. ‘I shall have to live alone and leave all these lovely things behind. What loneliness lies ahead for me, I wonder?’
We touched on the charitable trust and the substantial donation Alexander had given to his old Cambridge college. It didn’t sit well with Diana, who said, ‘To donate to a cause which gave no benefit whatsoever to the rest of his family was most peculiar.’
I was intrigued why Alexander, a man so seemingly straightforward, leading a pretty conventional and honestly rather dull life, would have wanted to keep aspects of his financial affairs from his family. I had a disloyal thought that perhaps it was deceit rather than discretion that had driven him to conceal certain outgoings. Could there ever have been another woman in his life?
We’d finished our bowls of soup and with no more cutlery laid I saw that this would be the only course. I was half listening to Diana’s disappointment at being left none of the precious family jewellery as I stared out of the windows, hardly able to see the lake it was so misty and wet outside. If Alexander was here no doubt he would have lifted the gloom as he had a pleasant way like that, but instead I found myself wallowing in the sadness of his death.
It was a relief when Diana sent me away with, ‘Susie my dear, you seem tired. I think we should both rest this afternoon.’
‘Yes, that would be nice, but are you sure there is nothing I can do for you?’
‘You are such a dear girl to be here for me. I don’t know how I would get through this transition without you. There is one small favour you could do if you wouldn’t mind.’
‘Yes?’
‘The mortuary report,’ Diana began, and I sat up as my body tensed at the mention of such an unfamiliar term. ‘I was telephoned while you were speaking to Mary to say that it is now available to collect from the county hospital this afternoon. I didn’t want to ask Arthur to get it, and Asquintha hasn’t volunteered to help. I am hoping you wouldn’t mind tootling off there after lunch.’
Good God, what a thing for her to have to ask.
I replied without a hint of reluctance, ‘Of course not. That’s no problem at all.’
‘Marvellous. If I’m not up from my rest when you return, just pop it in the tray on the hall table. Thank you so much, Susie.’
Mary reappeared with hot coffee and before she’d even placed the tray on the table, Diana sent her back to the kitchen with a curt, ‘Mary, you should have asked; neither of us are going to drink that, so you’d best take it away.’
Mary’s bottom lip began to wobble but her back turned before the tears came.
I stood up, thanked Diana for lunch and left the room. The door to the library was wide open and from the hall I could see Diana’s stack of documents lying on the table just where she had been sitting. A sudden, inquisitive impulse struck and I found myself flipping through the papers, heart racing for fear of being caught. I reached the section ‘Donations to Date’; there was something about the charitable trust which had unsettled me. I whipped out my mobile telephone and took a photograph of the record in front of me.
Diana was in the hall when I stepped out from the library.
‘Susie!’ she said. ‘Are you looking for something?’
As innocently as I could I replied, ‘I thought I’d left my coat in there but it must be in the porch.’
‘I do hope it is. If Shepherd hadn’t disappeared this morning we wouldn’t have this confusion. I am so sorry.’
‘That’s okay. I can see it, there it is hanging on the pegs. I’ll be back later.’
‘Thank you Susie.’
My mackintosh had raindrops clinging to it still, but most lost their grip as I pulled it over me. The keys were in the pocket so I made a dash for the car, deciding to go straight to the county hospital. As I drove, with the windscreen wipers waving, like a mother trying to teach her baby to do the same, I felt preoccupied about the job in hand.
By the time I returned Diana was still napping so, as she had instructed, I left the sealed envelope with the report on the hall table.
When I got back to Rose Cottage I was rather pleased to find Nanny still out looking after Michael and James. I went straight to my bedroom with good intentions of reading a book.
The almightiest crash of thunder bolted me upright in bed from a deep snooze. The Age of Innocence flew off my chest and for a split second I had no idea where I was. Flicking on the bedside light I realised I must have been fast asleep. A sheet of lightning lit up the window. It was spectacular. Whoever would keep the curtains closed with a display like that going on outside in the dark winter night?
I picked up my mobile phone from the side table to ring my parents.
‘Hello Mum, it’s me.’
‘Susie! I’ve been wondering where you are. Called the house several times. Your father’s been wondering if you’ll come up and see us next weekend. We’d love the company. And we have Duncan coming for supper on Saturday.’
Duncan is my mother’s godson. He’s a poet and lives in Edinburgh but comes down to London occasionally, as he likes to put it, ‘on business’. He always visits my parents and to be fair on him he is good company, if you don’t let him stray into abstract poetical details; this can lead to a late night and much feigned interest in the intricacies of an overcast sky or a rippling puddle. Aside from this, he is in fact very entertaining and tells endless funny stories in a thick Edinburgh accent.
‘Mum, I’d love to see you all too, but I am in the West Country for a while.’
‘You’re still there? But it’s Monday night, I thought you were only going for the weekend to draw another dog or some such thing?’
‘I was. But Mum, shockingly Alexander Greengrass died yesterday. I was there when it happened – he dropped down dead in Spire graveyard during the Sunday service.’
‘Oh Susie, how awful,’ said my mother. ‘I do feel for his wife. It’s not nice in old age when one goes before the other.’
Even though she does not know the Greengrasses, I was surprised Mum was not a little more sympathetic to the situation. She could at least empathise with the position I was in.
I angled for some motherly love. ‘It’s been such a shock seeing death first-hand, Mum.’
‘Well, death happens to us all, Susie.’
This wasn’t quite the response I was looking for. I know she would be miserable without my father, but somehow she seemed unable to draw a parallel between herself and Diana.
‘I won’t be able to come this weekend,’ I said abruptly, though her silence made me follow up with an explanation. ‘Arthur, Diana’s son, has asked me to stay for a couple of days to comfort his mother. I would like to be here for her particularly as they don’t know yet why Alexander died.’
‘Susie, you mustn’t let them blackmail you into giving up your time. It’s the usual thing of people thinking artists always have time, as if they are permanently on holiday.’
Mum was protecting me but it wasn’t what I needed. I wanted to talk about the ins and outs of death, and let out all the feelings I had bottled up over the last two days. But this conversation wasn’t heading that way.
Resigned to the fact that little comfort was going to come down the telephone line, I continued without letting on that this had hurt me. ‘Don’t worry, Mum, they’ve given me a room in Nanny’s sweet cottage in the rose garden. Arthur offered to pay me but I didn’t accept.’
‘Why on earth not?’ said my mother, who was always wanting me to have a little more money than my art earned me.
‘Mum. Diana and Alexander have been so kind to me over the years. It’s nice to be able to do something for them in return.’ My voice was agitated again. Parents are so good at pushing the wrong buttons. I tried one last time for some comfort. ‘It is such a shock that Alexander just dropped down d
ead.’
‘Yes. Well, we’ll hear all the details when we next see you. Just give us a call when you are back home again and we’ll make a plan. Oh, and please don’t forget to order my rail card online.’
I didn’t want our conversation to end just yet. ‘How are you and Dad?’ I said. But Mum had hung up.
I knew I shouldn’t be surprised; my mother is worse than me about the telephone, using it purely as a means to make a plan and rarely as a medium to have a proper conversation, let alone give affection. I didn’t dwell on that; it used to upset me but I’m grown up now and it’s not like she’s ever going to change.
Having left the Codringtons in a rush yesterday I felt I owed them a call. Particularly as it was looking unlikely that I was going to be able to keep to the terms of producing a drawing within two weeks of visiting Situp.
I got up from the bed and paced round the room with the phone in my hand as the dialling tone sounded.
‘Hi Antonia, it’s Susie.’
‘Susie, how are you? And how is Diana?’
‘It’s been a long day, that’s for sure. The family solicitor was here all morning, and Diana took to her bed after lunch and I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s still fast asleep.’
‘Are you okay?’
‘Yes, thank you, it’s nice to be here for Diana.’
I sat back down on the bed, relaxed that we were now talking.
‘Is there anything we can do?’ asked Antonia.
‘I don’t think so.’
‘And how is Arthur?’
‘Poor Arthur spent the majority of yesterday evening on the telephone letting people know his father had died. Awful job to have to carry out.’
‘It really is wretched. Ben has been quite knocked by the whole thing, and as for Henry, after inviting himself to stay he rushed off as soon as he could. I don’t blame him but it’s always a bore to have catered for people in advance and end up being left with far too much food in the house.’
‘How annoying,’ I replied, although without too much sympathy as it was understandable Henry might have wanted to leave asap.
‘We’ve all been wondering if you know how Alexander died?’
‘I don’t, but hopefully there will be news soon.’
‘Something about it seems very strange to me.’
I was inclined to agree with her but not wanting to speculate I dodged the conversation. ‘I’m going to stay here for a few days and so I was ringing to say I am sorry but I don’t think I’ll have your drawing finished within two weeks.’
‘There’s absolutely no rush, Susie, I really mean it. Don’t begin to think about that right now.’
‘Thank you so much for understanding. I’ll start it as soon as I’m back in my studio. He’s a lovely dog, Situp, and I have plenty of material to go on, and so hopefully you’ll be pleased with the end result.’
‘I’ve no doubt about that, Susie.’
‘Thank you, I had such a nice time staying with you.’
‘We enjoyed having you too. Please call if you need anything.’
‘Of course. Bye Antonia.’
‘Bye Susie.’
I hung up and pulled the rug from the foot of my bed over me. It was cold in my room, the windows were single-glazed and the magenta velvet curtains, although thick, were not double-lined. The rain hammered at the glass and I suddenly wanted to be back in my own cottage in front of the wood-burner with my sheepskin slippers on and a plate of hot buttered toast and honey. This was not an option, however, although the thought of the toast made my tummy rumble. I didn’t feel as if I could be bothered to cook but I definitely had a craving for comfort food.
Extracting myself from under the rug, I picked up the hot-water bottle from the bedside table and went down the short corridor into the kitchen. The only thing worth looking at in here was the view, but it was dark now. I pulled down the pale-mint window blind and went to flick the switch on the kettle. The cupboard above it was ajar and to my delight a packet of dark-chocolate digestive biscuits winked at me. Perfect. I reached my arm up and rustled several out of the packet. When the kettle popped I filled up my hottie, made a strong cup of tea and returned to my room for an early night.
I had the most recent Week magazine in my handbag, and so once I’d slipped into my nightie, I lay in bed slurping tea, eating biscuits and reading it backwards as I always do. It’s far more engaging this way round, leaving the drab current affairs to the end.
I heard Nanny come in at nine and flicked off my sidelight before she had time to discover I was still awake. I needed sleep and didn’t want to embark on an inevitable late night of gossiping.
At 9am I was woken by a rat-a-tat-tat at my door.
‘Susie?’
‘Yes?’ I scrabbled to find the bedside light switch.
‘I’m going to make some porridge, and so would you like some?’
‘Yes please, I’ll be up in a sec.’
Nanny’s footsteps faded down the corridor as I rose from the bed, pulled on some woolly socks and wrapped myself in the towelling dressing gown hanging on the back of the door.
I stared down the corridor into the kitchen at Nanny’s marvellous clashing skirt and second-hand woollen jumper. Her back was to me, leaning over the cooker, stirring a pot. I wasn’t used to seeing her out of her blue pinny uniform.
The floor of the corridor creaked as I walked down it. Nanny swung round.
‘Sleep well?’ she asked.
‘I was out for the count. Didn’t hear a thing. I hope you slept okay?’
‘I always sleep well. As they say clear conscience, sound night’s sleep.’
I leant against the doorframe hugging the fluffy gown around me.
‘Did you hear any news from Arthur last night?’
‘They were distracted when they got home.’ Nanny raised her voice above the sound of a wooden spoon violently stirring a rapidly thickening mixture. ‘Only thing he told me was that they were still waiting on a confirmation of cause of death, and further tests would be needed. Very strange Susie. Never heard of a situation like this before.’
The stirring stopped, her shoulder rested and Nanny turned to look at me. ‘When my mother passed away, at a ripe old age mind you, they were quick to diagnose a fatal aneurysm. Did it within a day.’
‘I’ve been thinking,’ I said. ‘As Alexander died on a Sunday there may have been fewer doctors or pathologists on duty. I suppose the inquest will make things clearer.’
‘I’m not sure, Susie. In all me years I’ve never heard of the like. It doesn’t fit right for me. Everyone works on Sundays nowadays as there’s not enough Christians left to fight for the right not to. Old age got him I reckon, and we won’t know exactly what happened until we hear it.’
Despite saying this, Nanny’s scepticism emphasised a niggly feeling I had that there was something sinister surrounding Alexander’s death. I agreed with her that unless they were complete muppets over at the hospital, a clearer diagnosis of the cause of death should have been intimated to the family by now.
Nanny added a slug of milk to the saucepan and I took my chance to divert the conversation. ‘How long have you lived here?’
‘This will be my forty-second year. I came soon after Arthur was born and was given this bungalow in the garden the day I arrived.’
‘It’s yours?’ I asked with surprise.
‘No, Susie.’ Nanny laughed. ‘What I mean is they gave it to me to live in and I have done ever since.’
‘Goodness.’
‘I’m lucky not to have been moved. Some other folks have either been sent on their way or had to move to another house on the estate. Mary and Shepherd lived at one time in the lovely gatehouse, you know the one with all the ivy growing up it?’ I nodded. ‘That was all Mary’s hard work, and it had a big garden round the back too. But just like that, they were told to pack up and move.’
‘Who by?’
‘The Greengrasses of course. They wanted Shepherd an
d Mary closer to the Manor. That Diana would have Mary butter both sides of her bread just to make sure she was getting her money’s worth.’ Nanny smacked her hand over her mouth and froze. ‘Oh, I’ve said too much. Please ignore me.’
‘Don’t worry Nanny,’ I said, touching her shoulder. ‘You’re safe with me. We all like to rant about our bosses from time to time, and it doesn’t mean we hate them. You’ve been here a very long time and so it’s clear how much they mean to you, and you to them.’
‘My situation isn’t rare, Susie. Most family-nannies in the old-fashioned sense take on a job in their youth hoping to be employed by the eldest son when he grows up and has children of his own. It’s a tradition that comes with the job.’
‘I see. But what did you do for the years in-between Arthur’s adulthood and Michael’s birth?’
‘Clever Susie, you’re very thorough in your thinking, aren’t you?’ I smiled at Nanny, as she gave me the full rundown of her time at Beckenstale Manor.
‘In between the births of children and grandchildren I took on household chores. Washing, ironing and flower arranging. Once the childless years passed, Miss Jenny was employed to fill my gap. Rotation you see. When Arthur and Asquintha’s children have grown up Miss Jenny will have too, then she’ll flee and I’ll go back to washing, ironing and flower arranging, which, let’s be honest, I can do till my dying day.’
‘The aristocracy have got it all covered, haven’t they?’ I said, which amused Nanny.
She turned to stir the porridge and I looked out of the window. The boxed hedges framed triangular flowerbeds filled with wintering rose bushes. The layout led my eye along the geometric lines of hedge and intersecting gravel paths, lulling my mind into a sleepy haze.
‘Ready!’ exclaimed Nanny, which made me jump.
I turned around and there she was standing right behind me with a bowl in each hand.
‘Come on sleepy head, let’s go through.’
I followed her into the adjacent front room and we plonked ourselves down in the armchairs of the three-piece suite.