‘Oh, indeed,’ agreed Robert at once. He wanted Loveday to stay as long as possible. ‘Mother’s bedroom is the first one on the right-hand side. There’s clean linen in the cupboard next to the one you found the polish in.’
There was little for Loveday to do in Mrs Drayton’s bedroom. Everything was clean and tidy. The double bed which the old lady had slept in since her wedding night was as she had left it last night. The covers were pulled back where Robert and the ambulance man had helped her out. Loveday stripped the bed and replaced the crisp white sheets. She put a doll dressed in a faded crinoline dress, a treasured toy from Mrs Drayton’s childhood, on the pillow. Next she opened the wardrobe and moved the garments along on their hangers looking for her wedding dress. It wasn’t hanging up but Loveday found it in a box on the wardrobe floor. She took out a simply styled Victorian creation, gone an off-white now, the sleeves and high neckline covered with fine lace. She shook out the folds of the dress and laid it out reverently on Mrs Drayton’s bed. She stood back and surveyed the dress, tears pricking her eyes for the end of the life of a lady she had never known.
She slipped downstairs and went into the sitting room. Robert had finished his work and was staring down at the pullover his mother would never finish for him. Loveday had a small vase in her hand.
‘I thought I might take a few of the flowers from this room for your mother’s bedside table, if that’s all right with you.’
‘Yes, yes, that would be lovely, Mrs Wright.’
Loveday swept the stairs and passageway then found Robert at the kitchen sink staring down aimlessly at a few potatoes he’d put in it. ‘I can’t seem to apply myself to anything this morning,’ he said apologetically.
‘Well, that’s understandable. You sit down, Mr Drayton. There’s no need for you to do anything while I’m here.’
The telephone rang in the hall and Robert excused himself and went to answer the call. Loveday busied herself peeling the potatoes then peeped out through the curtains to see what Mr Drayton’s back garden was like. The garden had a high wall on one side and three immaculately trimmed privet hedges on the other three. Robert had vegetables growing in neat regimented lines on one side of an ash path; flowers and shrubs grew on the other side.
‘Would you like to go outside and take a closer look?’ Robert said behind her. ‘I know I could do with a breath of fresh air. I could cut a cabbage to go with our lunch. You will stay with me and eat?’
Loveday smiled warmly in answer. She took off the apron and stepped outside with him. There was a shed, a small greenhouse and an outdoor water closet, all in good condition.
‘You keep a splendid garden, Mr Drayton,’ Loveday said, genuinely impressed. ‘I’m afraid I spend so much time at the gatehouse these days that my own little garden has been neglected.’
‘What a shame. I find gardening so relaxing. I can’t take the credit for all this myself Mother used to spend hours out here. It was nothing for her to dig over the ground and put in the bean sticks.’ Robert took a penknife out of his pocket and cut a round-headed cabbage. ‘There,’ he said proudly. ‘You’ll taste none better, Mrs Wright, I promise you.’
‘I can quite believe that, Mr Drayton.’
‘There’s some lamb chops covered up in the cold room. We could grill them and have boiled potatoes, my own potatoes of course, and I think there’s a little rice pudding left over from yesterday we could warm up in the oven. Will that suit you, Mrs Wright?’
‘A feast fit for a king, Mr Drayton,’ she replied.
‘You must allow me to pick you some flowers to take home.’ He had a sudden thought. ‘Oh, I mustn’t keep you. I quite forgot your little girl. You’ll have to get back for her.’
‘Oh, Tamsyn will be all right. Ira Jenkins is looking after her and has taken over my duties for the day.’
‘I’m so glad. I saw your little girl when I called at the estate in the hope of finding Major Fiennes at home.’ Robert searched his mind for something complimentary to say about Tamsyn. He knew all mothers were proud of their children and, in Mrs Wright’s case, very protective. ‘She has, um, an intelligent little face.’
Loveday smiled proudly then made a wry face. ‘I bet she was untidy with a dirty face. Tamsyn is a tomboy but then she has a whole creek practically to herself to run about in. She can be cheeky. I hope she wasn’t cheeky to you, Mr Drayton.’
‘No, actually she said hello and after that she stared at me. Children have their own special way of staring at you, I’ve found. Usually it makes me feel uncomfortable but Tamsyn was only being curious. Master Stephen Fiennes was with her but I’m sorry to say he was rude to me.’
‘He can be a horrid child,’ Loveday said. ‘Most of it’s attention-seeking, I think.’
‘Yes, I’m sure you’re right.’
‘I’d better put the vegetables on if we are to have lunch,’ Loveday said.
After they had eaten, Loveday washed the dishes and Robert dried them. When they were all back in their places and the tea towel was spread out to dry, he turned to Loveday. ‘I can’t tell you how much I’ve appreciated you coming here today, Mrs Wright.’
‘I’m glad I’ve been able to help.’
The doorbell rang. ‘That will be the undertaker,’ Robert said nervously.
‘I’ll bring some tea into the sitting room.’
‘When you do, please stay, Mrs Wright. It would be helpful to have a lady’s contribution to the arrangements.’
‘Well, if that’s what you want I shall be honoured, Mr Drayton.’
It wasn’t the undertaker at the door. It was Alex, calling to see if Loveday was ready to go home. He shook Robert’s hand and went through the routine of offering his condolences and help. He saw he had thrown the solicitor into a nervous dither.
‘Shall I send Trease Allen for you at about five o’clock, Mrs Wright?’ he said. ‘Then you will have time to prepare something for Mr Drayton’s dinner.’
Mr Drayton looked at Loveday with an expression that pleaded with her to stay.
‘If it’s of no inconvenience to you, Major, that would be greatly appreciated,’ she replied.
‘Such an understanding man,’ Robert said, when Alex had gone. ‘I do hope he decides to keep Trevallion. You could work under no better an employer after Captain Miles.’
Loveday agreed wholeheartedly then suggested they return to the kitchen for another cup of tea and wait for the undertaker. They sat at the table, talking about the changes for the better that Major Fiennes had brought to the Trevallion estate, the weather and their respective gardens. Then suddenly Robert’s face broke and tears of loss and sorrow ran from his eyes.
‘It’s just hit me, Mrs Wright. My dear mother will never share another meal with me, tend the garden and sit across the room with me in the evenings. I’ll be glad when they bring her home. To be here for a little longer. I wish she had died at home.’ Robert searched for a handkerchief and dried his eyes. ‘Do forgive me, Mrs Wright.’
‘There’s nothing to be ashamed of in showing your grief, Mr Drayton.’ Loveday reached across the kitchen table and put her hand in his and he held it very tightly.
Chapter 26
The St Mawes Regatta was the third to last to be held during the River Fal’s traditional Regatta Fortnight. Excitement bubbled in the picturesque town; its streets, alleyways, the sea frontage and harbour were gaily decorated with streamers and flags, evergreens adorned every windowsill and door mantel. Another good day’s holiday and sport was anticipated and the younger folk looked forward to the fun of the music and dancing and the amusements St Mawes was famous for – climbing a greasy pole to win a leg o’mutton, ducking for apples and, finally and best of all, a dazzling fireworks display.
Everybody agreed it was a fine day for it. Competitors and sightseers crammed the quay, the sea wall and rocky beach below, while others filled a great many boats on the water. Three majestic top-sail schooners swayed in the wind, decked out with hundreds of colourf
ul flags.
The town’s brass band sat proudly on a raised platform playing a hardy selection of marches, waltzes, hymns and country music. Chairs and benches had been put out and some people sat on blankets with their picnics. Refreshment and cheap-jack stalls had been set up and a fortune-teller had brought her gipsy caravan along the network of pretty but narrow and winding roads of the Roseland. Most people had come straight from their creeks and villages by boat.
The Kennickers had arrived by boat, either their own or one of Trevallion’s. Rebecca had sailed in the Lady Harriet with Trease, Alex, Percy Gummoe and some of the Jenkins. She was amused to see her father, Alex and Jossy were whispering to each other. If she looked at them or moved close to them they instantly became silent. After the long years of absence, the Lady Harriet was being entered in a scratch race for those with boats over twenty-eight feet in length. The three men were probably planning tactics for the race. When Rebecca caught their collective eyes, she looked at them scornfully. She wouldn’t have divulged their secrets.
A dark-blue thirty-five-foot fishing boat swept up beside them. It was the Emmeline, skippered by Miles Trevallion’s long-time rival Pat Vincent, a St Mawes fisherman.
‘’Tes ’an’some t’see she out again, Jossy,’ Pat called across the boats, nodding his bulky head at the Lady Harriet’s name freshly painted black on gleaming white.
‘We’re back to give ’ee a run for your money,’ Jossy beamed proudly. ‘Let me introduce you to Major Fiennes, her new owner.’
‘You won’t do much against we, Major,’ Pat Vincent boasted good-humouredly to Alex. ‘Your crew ’ave been too many years out of practice, but like I said, ’tes nice to ’ave a Trevallion boat back in the races again.’
Alex smiled, studied his rival’s mainsail, and repeated a term he’d heard Jossy use often as they’d practised for the races, ‘It’s good to meet my cousin’s old rival, Pat, but you’ve got sails fit only for cruising there.’
Pat Vincent slapped his knee in delight. ‘Did ’ee ’ear that, boys?’ he asked his crew, entirely made up of his family. ‘Tes just like the old days when we belonged to exchange a bit o’ banter with the cap’n.’
‘We don’t seriously stand much chance of being placed today, do we, Jossy?’ Alex asked, after the crew had helped Rebecca and the other women off onto dry land.
‘The races are held in the spirit rather than the letter of the law, Major,’ Jossy replied. ‘My boys should do well with their oysterdredger but like I promised Pat, we’ll do our best.’
Rebecca would have preferred to watch the regatta from one of the boats but she’d stepped ashore in the hope of seeing Neville about the town. She caught sight of Mr Drayton, who was looking about for Loveday, who in turn was chasing after Tamsyn in the hopeless task of trying to keep her clean and tidy. Tamsyn had given her mother the slip and was wandering about the town, spending her few pennies of pocket money on sweets with some St Mawes children she knew, a hurt look on her face because Stephen didn’t want her today; he preferred to stay close to Joe who’d helped row over the Trevallion gig. Mrs Fiennes had arrived on the Iseult and had decided to sightsee from the motor launch.
The races began with a handicap class, boats of twenty-two feet and upwards, racing against the clock on handicaps decided annually. Rebecca watched with the same degree of enthusiasm as she did every year, but kept her eye alert for Neville. Cheers from the sightseers for their favourite boats echoed across the water. People on land jumped up and down to encourage their heroes and a huge blast of sound went up as a Falmouth quay punt edged its bow over the winning line first.
‘Going to be some close races this year,’ Trease said at her side as he clapped the winning crew.
‘Looks like it,’ Rebecca agreed. ‘How come you’re ashore, Dad? I thought you’d be getting ready for your class and you’re in the gig racing.’ She hoped Neville would stay out of sight if he turned up now.
‘Got plenty of time yet. Jossy broke his flask of tea. The rest of us have brought beer or coffee but he won’t touch either, says he can’t get his brain tuned into the winds and currents if he hasn’t had a mug of strong tea.’
‘There’s a refreshment stall behind us,’ Rebecca pointed out.
‘’Tis run by women and there’s only women round it. Be a dear and get a mug for me.’
Rebecca raised her eyebrows playfully. ‘That’s hardly the spirit of a brave crewman about to pit his wits against the famous Pat Vincent and his precious Emmeline.’
Trease wasn’t listening. He was staring down at the boats clustered on the water.
‘What are you looking at?’ She peered in the direction he was staring, her hand over her eyes.
‘Look at ’em. Showing themselves up in public now!’
‘Who?’
‘Carlyon and that Fiennes bint. They’re all over each other again.’
Rebecca looked down at the Iseult. She could make out Abigail Fiennes in her straw cloche hat with perky feather. She was leaning over the boat and talking to Joe who was standing up in the gig. ‘They’re only talking to each other, Dad. What do you mean “again”?’
Trease snorted. ‘You must be the only one on the estate who doesn’t know. She and Carlyon have been carrying on for weeks.’
‘Joe and Mrs Fiennes?’ Rebecca gasped. ‘I don’t believe it.’
* * *
Loveday finally located her daughter on the waterfront. ‘Tamsyn! Just look at your hands and face, and the ribbons of your dress are trailing on the ground. And look at your shoes. How did you manage to get into this state in such a short time?’
She grabbed her daughter, wetted her handkerchief on Tamsyn’s tongue and attempted to wipe a dirty mark off her chin. ‘Keep still, Tamsyn, and stop making that face or you won’t have an ice cream later on.’
When her face passed inspection, Tamsyn was turned round so Loveday could tie a big bow at the back of her dress. ‘Will you please keep still?’
‘Mr Drayton’s coming this way,’ Tamsyn said, moving away as Loveday’s hold on her slackened. ‘I think he wants to talk to you, Mum. Can I go back and play with the other children now? I promise I won’t get dirty.’ Tamsyn looked at her mother for an answer and watched her face turn a soft pink as Mr Drayton approached them.
Mr Drayton smiled as he held out his hand. ‘Mrs Wright. How nice to see you again, and your little girl. Tamsyn, isn’t it?’ He turned to Tamsyn with his face abeam and held out his hand to her too.
Tamsyn shook hands as her mother had taught her to do. ‘That’s right, Mr Drayton. Have you come to watch the races?’
‘Yes, I have, Tamsyn. I’m happy to say I have very little business to attend to this afternoon. Now, can I get you a cup of tea, Mrs Wright? And would you like a glass of lemonade, Tamsyn? Perhaps an ice cream?’
‘Oh, yes please,’ Tamsyn blurted out before Loveday could make a reply.
Tamsyn was thrilled; having a drink of lemonade bought by Mr Robert Drayton who did business with the Major would put her one up on Stephen. She led the way to the nearest refreshment stall. A short time later she left her mother drinking tea with Mr Drayton while she clutched a big ice cream.
‘That was very generous of you, Mr Drayton,’ Loveday said, sitting on a chair vacated by a surge forward to watch the next race. They were in full view of some of the Kennicker women, who included Mrs Kellow.
‘Tamsyn is a delightful child, Mrs Wright. It’s easy to see she’s had a good upbringing.’
Loveday flushed with pleasure. ‘I’m sure I do my best, Mr Drayton. How are things with you after your mother’s funeral?’
‘Well, I miss Mother terribly of course but I’m sure I’m coping better than I thought I would because of the support you gave me on the day she died. It was very thoughtful of you to attend her funeral.’
Loveday ran her teaspoon round her saucer. ‘Funny really, after making her bed and putting flowers in her room I felt I knew her.’
‘My
mother would have liked you, Mrs Wright. It’s a shame you never met.’
Loveday looked down at her lap. ‘If… if there’s anything more I can do for you, Mr Drayton…’
‘Actually, Mrs Wright,’ Mr Drayton swallowed hard, ‘Mother always said that when her time came she would like her clothes to go to charity. If you were, um, to get the time, I was wondering…’
‘Yes?’ Loveday prompted, still looking down.
‘If… if I were to give you a key to the house, would you, could you, I mean, would you be so kind as to gather all Mother’s clothes together and pack them in a box? I think such an undertaking needs a woman’s touch. Then I’ll arrange for the Salvation Army to call for them. I think they are the best people to put them to good use. And please, don’t be offended, but if there is anything you would like, do… do take it.’ Mr Drayton looked nervously about and when he glanced at Loveday she was smiling at him. He smiled back.
Unknown to them, there was a collective ‘Ahhh’ from the women watching.
‘I will let you know when I next have a day off, Mr Drayton, and I would be happy to do that for you.’
‘Oh, splendid.’ Then Mr Drayton added boldly, ‘If I may, by way of thanks, I’d like to help you with your garden. May I suggest we watch the regatta together, Mrs Wright?’
‘I shall be delighted, Mr Drayton.’
As Loveday left on Robert’s arm, Rebecca came up to the stall and bid them good morning.
‘What about that then?’ Mrs Kellow said to Rebecca, nodding after the couple.
‘What about what, Mrs Kellow?’ Rebecca frowned, hoping she wasn’t going to hear any more gossip. She hadn’t got over the shock of Joe’s affair with Mrs Fiennes yet; Trease had been adamant it was true.
‘Can I have a strong mug of tea, please?’ she asked one of the serving women at the stall.
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