Trevallion

by Trevallion (retail) (epub)

  Alex had not missed the slight note of impatience in Rebecca’s reply. ‘At least Abigail’s in her element,’ he said, thinking of all the measurements she had taken and all the design charts she had consulted during the last week. ‘I’ve given her a generous budget for decorating and new furnishings. She has a wonderful sense of colour and design so I’m confident she won’t ruin the place. Miles would have hated that.’

  Rebecca looked at a large space on the wooden floor which she was sure hadn’t been there before. ‘Have you been moving the furniture around?’

  ‘Yes. I’m having a desk put in here for you.’

  ‘What on earth for?’ she asked sharply. ‘I can’t type or anything and I don’t want to learn.’

  He moved close and gazed at her. ‘You don’t want to be here at all, do you, Becca?’

  She threw her hands out hopelessly and watched his dark face for signs of trauma. ‘It isn’t that… I just want…’

  ‘Your freedom? I know how hard this must be on you, but if you can just bear with me for a little longer, allow me to get my bearings in this house, as it were. Will you do that for me, Becca? We can forget the desk. You don’t have to do anything but be around for a while.’

  Rebecca felt a weight being lifted off her shoulders. It would still be unwise to see Neville for the time being but she felt less of a prisoner now. She should have known really. Alex Fiennes wasn’t the kind of man to be unfair.

  She smiled at him. ‘I’m happy to stay around you, Alex.’ He looked relieved and rubbed his hands together. ‘Well, we’d better get on with some work. Plenty to do. What I would like from you is help to get things running smoothly here. If you wouldn’t mind taking notes, I’ll get someone to do any typing that’s needed. Perhaps I could get someone to come here two or three times a week.’

  ‘That would be ideal,’ Rebecca said, pulling up a chair on the other side of his desk.

  He looked through a notebook he had been keeping since he’d arrived at Trevallion and called out the things that had to be seen to in order of priority. Three dangerously-uprooted trees needed to be felled in the woods. Rubbish dumped near Kennick Creek by some unsocial individuals had to be removed before there was an accident on the river. The reintroduction of pheasant breeding needed to be looked into. Certain items were required on the farms, mainly help with financing equipment which the farmers couldn’t afford themselves, including new parts for the engine of Frank Kellow’s creaking old tractor.

  ‘Do you think I’ve hired enough staff for the house, Becca?’

  ‘You’d better ask Mrs Fiennes that. Of course the more people you can employ, the better it is for the locals.’

  ‘I’ll put an advertisement in the local press for an under-gardener and a stable boy. Abigail wants me to have a tennis court built. What do you think?’

  ‘It would be nice, I should think,’ Rebecca said, tilting her face to the side. ‘I’m quite good at tennis. I used to play against my cousin Raymon on the new public courts at Boscawen Park.’

  ‘Perhaps I’ll give you a game one day,’ Alex said, throwing down his fountain pen and rubbing his eyes.

  ‘Are you getting tired?’ she asked, her mind only half on him. She’d noticed Susannah Bosanko’s love letters to Roland Trevallion on the desk. ‘I see you’ve still got those letters from that ugly old woman. It wouldn’t do for Stephen to read them.’

  ‘You’re right as usual,’ Alex said, grinning as he rooted them out from the other papers on the desk. ‘Have you read any of them, Becca?’

  ‘No, not in detail, but I know what sort of thing they contain. Actually Tamsyn came across them when we were trying to clean up the house for your arrival.’

  Alex gave a loud laugh. ‘Thank goodness Loveday didn’t read them. She would have refused to make tea for the old dear when she called here.’

  ‘“Old dear”? Witch more like. We ought to have the place exorcised.’ Rebecca went over to the chest and bent down in front of it.

  Alex joined her. ‘Frightened of Susannah, are you? What are you looking for?’

  ‘It’s just occurred to me. If someone wrote such strong letters to you, very intimate ones at first then hateful vengeful ones, you wouldn’t just push them in under a chest to conceal them. There must be a hiding place under here. Perhaps it broke and the letters fell out. And yes, I am frightened of the old lady. She gives me the creeps.’

  Alex tried putting his hand under the chest but the space was too narrow. ‘I’ll lift the chest up on its side. You take a look and see if there’s anything there.’

  ‘Mind your hands then.’

  ‘It’s not heavy,’ he said, lifting the bottom of the chest. ‘Can you see anything?’

  Rebecca lay flat on the floor and looked up under the chest. ‘There’s a thin piece of wood broken free. I’ll just give it a pull.’

  The piece of wood came away in her fingers and something fell out from behind it. She picked it up and Alex lowered the chest.

  ‘It’s more old paper, rolled up like a document,’ Rebecca said and gave it to him.

  Alex frowned.

  ‘What is it?’ she asked.

  Alex tilted the paper to show her and whistled through his teeth. ‘It’s a last will and testament.’

  Chapter 31

  The following day Alex was poring over the newly discovered will when Rebecca came into the study and told him he had a visitor.

  ‘Oh, I hope it’s not Susannah Bosanko! I had a letter from her this morning. I couldn’t bear to see her now, Becca. Tell her to go away. Tell her I’m out. Tell her I’m dead, anything, but just get rid of her.’

  Rebecca wrinkled her nose at him then smiled. ‘It isn’t Miss Bosanko but it is a lady and she said you probably wouldn’t be pleased to see her.’

  The lady in question came into the room behind Rebecca and Alex sprang up as if his chair was on fire. ‘Well, Major Fiennes,’ she said in a stern voice. ‘I’ve heard that you’ve been getting yourself into a fine pickle.’

  The will fluttered from Alex’s fingers to the floor. ‘Sister Eddington!’ he gasped.

  Rebecca studied his face. It was white with disbelief and he looked like a child who had been discovered doing something naughty.

  ‘You may well look guilty, Major Fiennes. I understand you’ve been giving everybody here the runaround.’ After each sentence, Sister Eddington closed her colourless lips and tightened them at one side. Her unwavering gaze followed Alex’s movements as he sank weakly into his chair. She sat down on the opposite side of the desk without waiting to be invited.

  Alex looked at Rebecca as if he was pleading for help. She did her best to keep a straight face.

  ‘Emily will be here with the tea shortly, Miss Eddington,’ she said in an efficient voice and tried to look busy beside the old chest.

  Miss Eddington gazed stonily across the desk. ‘What’s the matter, Major? Aren’t you pleased to see me? It’s been a long time, about eight years now. It’s not Sister Eddington any more. I left the nursing corps soon after the war ended and studied to become a pharmacist. I work for a chemist in a quiet little town in Essex. I have my own little house and car and am considered to be something of an oddity, especially as I’ve never married, but we women must forge ahead and take our place in the commercial life of the country. What do you say, Miss Allen?’

  ‘Yes, indeed, Miss Eddington,’ Rebecca agreed, shuffling papers.

  ‘Have you nothing to say, Major? Are you just going to sit there with a face as blank as a sheet of notepaper?’

  Alex hastily cleared his throat and collected his wits. ‘What are you doing here, Sister Eddington?’

  ‘Miss Eddington. I don’t call that a greeting after I’ve gone out of my way to look you up. I have a cousin who lives in Polperro. I’ve come down to Cornwall for a week’s holiday. Had the surprise of my life to read in an old local newspaper that you had inherited some property down here. I couldn’t bring myself to go back to Essex w
ithout seeing the worst patient I ever had during my entire war service once again.’

  ‘Your worst, Miss Eddington?’ Rebecca said, her curiosity getting the better of her. Why did this tall, neat, middle-aged lady with severely bobbed hair strike Alex dumb with horror?

  Miss Eddington pointed a finger across the desk and Alex looked as though he was trying to disappear into his chair. ‘I nursed men in France for four years, all ages, all ranks, in all conditions, but he was by far the most difficult. He was brought into the field hospital with a terrible head wound and when he came to after a couple of days he demanded to be allowed out of bed and dressed so he could go straight back to the fighting. He could hardly raise his head, let alone stand, but he fussed and moaned and cursed every waking moment of every day until he was released to go back on active duty, and even then he wasn’t really fit. He drove my nurses to distraction, except for a pretty American nursing aide who took a shine to him, but that’s another story. Never was I more glad to see the back of a patient.’

  Rebecca came closer to Alex. ‘I can well believe that. He treated Nurse Uren as if she was an interfering old busybody instead of a woman just trying to do her job.’ She picked up the will from the floor and Alex swiped it out of her hand.

  ‘I won’t be talked about like this!’ he snarled.

  ‘I was told you had a little accident, a fall of some sort out on the river.’ Miss Eddington fixed Alex with a hard question in her clear blue eyes.

  He looked at Rebecca with raised eyebrows. She said, ‘Miss Eddington and I had a little chat before I showed her in here and I told her about your boating accident, Major.’

  ‘Boating accident?’ Miss Eddington tightened her lips. ‘I bet he was drunk.’

  ‘He wasn’t… this time,’ Rebecca replied.

  Alex slammed a hand on his desk. Cushioned by just a light bandage it hurt badly but he didn’t show it. A nerve twitched in his cheek. ‘If you two women persist—’

  There was a knock on the door and Rebecca opened it for Emily to enter. When Emily had gone, she poured out a cup of tea and handed it to the ex-nurse. ‘I hope that’s how you like it, Miss Eddington.’

  ‘It looks just right. Call me Trixie.’

  ‘Trixie!’ Alex scoffed from across the desk.

  Trixie Eddington ignored him. ‘Did you help nurse him, Miss Allen?’

  Before Rebecca could answer, Alex said stiffly, ‘Becca is my personal assistant.’

  ‘Then I pity you greatly,’ Trixie said, sipping her tea. ‘There can’t be many men more troublesome in the whole of Christendom than the dashing Major Alexander Rupert Ignatius Fiennes.’

  ‘Ignatius?’ Rebecca couldn’t help giggling.

  ‘That’s his full name. I saw it on his army papers. Do you know, he was so upset at not getting a visible scar. He wanted to be hideously disfigured. Didn’t like it one bit that his splendid face was untouched. But he had a terrible gash on the top of his head.’

  Trixie got up and went round the desk. Alex had no time to escape his chair before she grabbed a handful of his hair and pulled it aside. ‘Come and look at this, Rebecca. Among these fresh cuts he’s got the most awful scar here.’ Rebecca came and looked and made a suitable noise of exclamation. ‘It’s a good job his hair’s so thick or the scar would be easily seen.’

  Alex had had enough. He got up abruptly, pushed the two women aside and stormed for the door. ‘I have never been treated so appallingly in all my life. If I’d been captured and tortured by the Hun I’m sure they would have shown me more respect!’

  ‘Told you he was easy to send up, didn’t I?’ Trixie grinned at Rebecca. ‘Come and sit down, Major Fiennes, and drink your tea. I had to get my own back on you somehow for all the past strife you gave me.’

  Alex looked at Rebecca’s gently smiling face then at Trixie. ‘You mean you planned this between you?’

  ‘We did,’ Trixie replied. ‘It was my idea, but I do apologise if seeing me again has brought back too many unpleasant memories. I know how you suffered, losing your men, the frustration of being relegated to a desk job and having to fight the end of the war from there. I’ve seen a lot of ex-soldiers in the last few years. I’ve seen the many different effects of what is called shell-shock. Forgive me, Major, but I don’t believe the tale of a boating accident. I’ve more than a shrewd idea how you recently hurt yourself.’

  Rebecca was worried for a moment that a sudden rush of painful memories would send Alex into a frenzy. Several emotions seemed to vie for a hold across his face, then he grinned, and she sighed with relief.

  ‘I suppose it was good of you to look me up, Sister Eddington. Who knows, perhaps a talk over old times will do me some good.’ His grin broadened. ‘But if I’d known back then that you were called Trixie it would have put a very different complexion on the whole war for me.’

  * * *

  Stephen was home for the weekend and Alex went to his room. He knocked on the door and put his head round it. ‘May I come in, Stephen?’

  ‘I can’t stop you,’ Stephen replied frostily, placing homework on a small desk and tossing his school bag into a comer. ‘This is your house.’

  Alex moved into the room, tidy now but which would be reduced to a shambles by Monday morning. He stood with his hands in his pockets. ‘I have tried to say I’m sorry to you, Stephen. It would help if you could at least meet me halfway.’

  ‘Why? Because it would make you feel better?’

  Alex shrugged. ‘I suppose so. It would make Becca and Tamsyn feel better too and you care about how they feel, don’t you?’

  ‘Listen, Uncle Alex,’ Stephen said, looking down at his school books. ‘I know how much you hate me and having to put up with me and Mother and paying for everything we need. I can’t do anything about that now but I intend to do my best at my studies and get into a well-paid profession so I can relieve you of the responsibility. One day I shall pay you back every penny.’

  ‘I don’t hate you, Stephen, and I don’t care about the money.’ Alex shuffled his feet awkwardly. ‘I’ve been so preoccupied with myself and my problems I’ve never really thought about you. If I hadn’t neglected you we would have been closer and not in this position now.’

  Stephen raised his chin. He looked at Alex coldly but there was a new maturity in his face. ‘I don’t see it that way. You knew right from the start that I wasn’t your brother’s son. You haven’t neglected me because you owe me nothing. In fact I should be grateful to you for supporting me and Mother all these years, when you owed us nothing. You’re not my uncle and I shouldn’t really call you that. I wouldn’t like to have to call you Major. Perhaps I could call you Alex.’ As he spoke Stephen’s face coloured. He’d thought over his situation carefully and these were his considered conclusions. It was hard to hate a man who although he’d shunned him all his life had not relegated him to a life of poverty.

  Alex took his hands out of his pockets. He clenched his fists then put a hand uncertainly on the boy’s shoulder. ‘As far as I’m concerned you are Ralph’s son and I had no right to say those terrible things to you, no right to call you those vile names. You are not responsible for your parentage. You were never meant to know, Stephen, and it wasn’t my place to tell you. I am very sorry. I’ve been cruel to you but I want to stay your uncle. Can’t we start again? Can’t we at least try?’

  A huge tear slid down Stephen’s face. ‘Do you know who my real father was?’

  Alex shook his head. ‘No, I’m sorry. It was something I never asked about.’

  ‘Mother said he was a fighter pilot like your brother. She said he was handsome and brave and I would have been proud of him.’

  If that was what Abigail had told him, Alex would not disillusion the boy. ‘I’m sure he was a very good man, Stephen.’

  They were both embarrassed and Alex moved away and picked up one of the school books. ‘How are you getting on at school?’

  Dashing a hand across his face, Stephen spoke quickly.
‘Oh, just fine. All my masters are pleased with me. The headmaster sent for me today. He’d just received my old school records and, well, they weren’t very good or anything, but he was impressed to see I’d made a marked improvement in all my subjects in just two weeks. He says I’ll have a good future if I carry on in the same way.’

  ‘Good for you,’ Alex said, leafing through a geography exercise book. ‘I was considered a bit of a swot at school. If you need any help…’

  Stephen couldn’t quite grasp his uncle being this kind and interested in him. ‘Perhaps… thanks, Uncle Alex.’

  Tamsyn ran into the room and Stephen grinned happily at her.

  ‘Are you coming out to play, Stephen? Motley’s jumping about outside. He’s dying to go for a long walk.’

  Stephen glanced at his uncle. ‘Well, I’ve got some homework to do, Tam.’

  Alex put the exercise book down. ‘Go on, Stephen, you need fresh air in your lungs after a week at school. I’ll help you with your homework later.’ He made for the door, ruffling Tamsyn’s fine hair as he passed her. Outside the room he smiled to himself, thinking how pleased Rebecca would be that he and Stephen were on good terms at last.

  His smile widened when he heard Tamsyn say excitedly, ‘You’ll be able to ask your uncle about a trip to Perranporth now, Stephen.’

  * * *

  ‘You don’t think we were too hard on the Major, do you?’ Trixie Eddington asked Rebecca. They were out on the river in Rebecca’s rowing boat.