Liza (13 page)

‘
I’ll take the job, Mr Gillespie. I’m grateful to you.’

‘
Good!’ He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket, produced two envelopes and a slip of paper, then passed them to her. ‘I’ve written down the name and address of your future employer, Mr Underdown. Write to him and say I’m recommending you and you want to be given a trial for the job. She — his wife, that is — will send you your train ticket and see that you are met at the station. One of those letters is to introduce you to Miss Jarvis, written by Madame Jeanne, who sends you her best regards. The other is from me to Mr Polkington.’

They chatted for a while and then he put down his empty cup and rose from his chair.
‘I have to get back.’ As she saw him to the door, he said shyly, ‘It didn’t strike me at the time, but your leaving — tell me to mind my own business if I offend you — had it anything to do with young Toby being killed?’

Liza nodded.
‘He said he wanted to get away because I’d told him I couldn’t marry him. I felt responsible for his death.’

Gillespie sucked in a breath and put his hand on her shoulder.
‘I feared it might be something like that. Don’t blame yourself. Things like this happen to people and can’t be helped. You did what was right.’

‘
Thank you.’ Liza knew he was correct, but it did not heal the hurt. She still grieved for Toby. He had been part of her youth and she had lost it. She was a lot older now than just by the months since he had been killed.

Gillespie left her with words of encouragement:
‘You’ve got a grand opportunity now. You must look forward.’

Liza watched him stride away. She had not told him about Susan, and that was not because she was ashamed: she felt that if she told him he would deserve an explanation. She did not want to go over it all again.

* * *

Gillespie had seen some of Susan
’s clothes drying on a line, had glimpsed the cot in the bedroom next door to the kitchen where he had drunk his tea. He had wondered if the child was Liza and Toby’s. But he told himself steadfastly that it was none of his business. He had already guessed at the story Liza had told him, but had come to help her if he could because she deserved it. Now he was even more glad that he had done so and went on his way, whistling.

9

APRIL 1905, HAMPSHIRE

Cecily emerged from the orchard and strolled slowly, hips swinging, across the yard to the house. Her eyes were narrowed, cat-like, against the spring sunshine. There was real heat in it and she had put on a thin cotton dress that showed off the lines of her young body; she was now a lissom nineteen. Simmie, the coachman and groom, was harnessing the horse to the carriage. He was a stocky young man, no taller than Cecily, and he watched her furtively. She knew it, and what he was thinking, and revelled in it. She greeted him: ‘Good morning.’

‘
Morning, Miss Cecily,’ he replied huskily.

She went on slowly towards the house, sure that he was gazing after her and wanting her. Cecily had learned a lot at the Swiss school that had not been on the syllabus, but she had been unable to put it into practice — so far. She had paid visits to the homes of schoolfriends and danced with boys, but always heavily chaperoned. Now she thought she might start with Simmie. She had to spend a vacation of two weeks here; this was only the third day and she was bored already.

Cecily entered the house by the back door and glanced into the kitchen. ‘Good morning.’

The cook, Mrs Bagley, was kneading dough.
‘Good morning, Miss Cecily.’

Mary Ann, the fifty-year-old, round-faced maid, said reprovingly,
‘Mrs Higgins is waiting for you.’

‘
Thank you.’ Let her wait, Cecily thought.

She ran up the stairs to her room but descended again a few minutes later and entered the drawing room where her relative sat, foot tapping.
‘Here I am, Aunt Alex.’

Alexandra Higgins, Edward Spencer
’s cousin, was a widow attempting to keep a carriage, cook and maid on a modest annuity by a thousand small economies. She did not economise on the sherry she drank daily. The money Edward paid her for looking after Cecily in her vacations was a blessing. She let the girl do as she pleased, afraid if she told Edward that she could not control the girl he would end the arrangement.

Now Alexandra stared and shrieked,
‘What have you done?’

Cecily had taken part in amateur dramatics at the Swiss school — they were popular at the time. Now she wore a blonde wig, its tresses piled high, and had daubed paint on her face, which was spotted with patches.
‘I’m practising my part. I have the role of Marie Antoinette in the village pageant. It’s quite an honour.’

‘
You look ...’ Alexandra was lost for words. Then she wailed, ‘What will Edward think?’

‘
He will be pleased, of course. It will show him I’m making good use of my education.’ And then, firmly, ‘I’m not taking it off until I feel I’m right into the part. That might take me some days.’

Alexandra accepted defeat and shifted her ground:
‘I’ve been expecting you this past ten minutes and more. You know we have to meet our guests off their train—’

‘
It doesn’t arrive for another twenty minutes.’ Cecily pointed at the clock on the mantelpiece.

Alexandra was on her feet.
‘One should always be early for an appointment.’

‘B
ut not too early,’ Cecily corrected her. ‘And the carriage isn’t ready yet. Simmie is just harnessing the horse.’

‘
What?’ Alexandra scurried to the window to peer out at the empty drive. ‘Oh dear! That young man! I told him to be ready at twenty to the hour—’

‘
You told him you wanted the carriage for fifteen minutes to,’ Cecily interrupted again. ‘I heard you tell him. And here he comes now, a little early, as you prefer.’ The wheels of the carriage crunched on the gravel as it came into view.

‘
Oh. Well, come along now,’ Alexandra said, deflated, and led the way outside. Simmie goggled at Cecily’s appearance but held open the door. They climbed in and set out.

The train chugged into the little station on time. Only two passengers stepped out on to the platform where Alexandra and Cecily waited. Edward Spencer was familiar: he had come to see Cecily several times over the years, but it had not brought them any closer. She kept him at arm
’s length, still remembering the bitter quarrel between him and her father, just as the memory of the mad old woman still haunted her. She had never told him the reason for her antipathy to him: he was her guardian, she had been saddled with him and that was all there was to it. She would put up with him until she inherited and then she would go her own way. It would not be long now.

The man who accompanied him was a stranger. In his early twenties, he was tall and broad, dressed sombrely in a navy blue uniform with brass buttons. Cecily had not met him before but she had known he was coming: Edward had written that he was bringing one of his captains, whose ship was lying in the Pool of London.

‘You’re looking well, Alex,’ Edward said, then paused. ‘Cecily, isn’t it? What have you done to yourself?’

‘
It’s for the pageant ...’ Alexandra explained timidly. Cecily smiled innocently. ‘They taught me at the school you sent me to. I assure you, sir, as soon as I have mastered and played my part I will revert to my true self.’

Edward sighed inwardly. He knew he would never understand this girl, and that she was ready to regard him as the cruel guardian if he disciplined her. But she was his brother
’s daughter and he had given his word to Charles. ‘It’s certainly a striking performance,’ he said drily.

‘
Thank you, Uncle.’ Cecily’s reply was cool.

‘
This is the gentleman I told you about, Alex,’ Edward went on, ‘Captain William Morgan.’

William carried his cap in his hand and ducked his head in a polite little bow. He was well aware that his uniform was shabby but he had not expected a visit of this sort so had brought no other aboard his ship. It had been good enough for the passage from the Mediterranean. In truth he did not see why Edward had asked for, or ordered, his company on this visit. But it was enough for him that Edward wished it.

‘So you only work for Mr Spencer,’ Cecily remarked.

William caught the nuance in her tone and thought, As if I swept out the stables. He retorted,
‘I captain one of his ships, Miss.’

Now it was Cecily
’s turn to think. Miss! As if I was a servant girl! She smiled sweetly. ‘That is what I meant.’

Edward had not detected her jibe and now spoke up for William:
‘He’s an important man.’

Cecily noted the pride in his voice, and wondered how she could use it to hurt him.

On the drive back to the house, over lunch and during the stroll through the lanes that followed, she tried to charm William and Edward, and succeeded with the latter. For dinner she wore a dress that buttoned up to the neck but was still bewigged and painted. She played up to the two men again, conversing intelligently and minding her manners. Edward was delighted and decided to ignore the outrageous disguise. He thought with relief that the girl was growing out of the difficult phase. At last he felt he could grow to like her. ‘I’ve brought you a present,’ he told her, ‘from Switzerland.’

‘
Oh?’ said Cecily warily. Was this some disapproving report from her school? ‘How kind of you.’

Edward took a small box from his pocket and opened it to reveal a tiny gold wrist
watch set with jewels. ‘For your nineteenth birthday.’

‘
Thank you.’ Cecily was amazed and delighted with the present and almost kissed him — but habit held her back. Still, her feelings showed in her tone and Edward was pleased. William hoped the girl was worth it.

Alexandra retired early:
‘I’ll leave you gentlemen to your talk.’ She took Cecily with her — and a bottle of sherry for a nightcap. She had hidden that in the capacious bag in which she kept her embroidery.

*
* *

The two men sat in armchairs before the fire and talked of ships and shipping, drank some whisky and went up to bed. Edward led the way and William said,
‘I’ll just settle this fire for the night.’ He checked that the coals would not fall out then put a guard round it to be sure. When he was satisfied, he climbed the stairs. Edward’s door was shut and he put out the oil lamp on the landing. Oil lamps were the only illumination here, an economy forced on Alexandra because the house was too remote for gas or electricity to be connected.

When William opened his door he found a lamp burning on the table by the bed. Cecily reclined there, still in her wig, face painted, but her dress was discarded on a chair. Her body was outlined under her thin shift. She gave him a sultry smile
and said huskily, ‘Close the door, Captain. I’ve been waiting for you.’

William was taken by surprise, but he had been through this experience before — though not with an English lady. He reached the bed in two long strides and snatched up the dress. He picked up Cecily and carried her out on to the landing. It was her turn to be surprised. She had planned a seduction and had not expected rejection.
‘I’ll scream!’ she hissed.

‘
Scream away. It’ll be your word against mine and I still have my breeches on.’ He set her down, shoved the dress into her arms and shut his door on her. She heard the key turn in the lock.

*
* *

At breakfast she was snappy with a brittle smile and he mostly silent but polite when he spoke. To Edward she was cold, never addressed him and answered his remarks with monosyllables. When the two men said their farewells and climbed up into the carriage she replied only with a flat,
‘Goodbye.’ She had refused to go to the station and her face was devoid of expression. Edward sighed to himself and accepted that their relationship was back to normal again.

As Cecily watched them go, with the coachman sitting up on the box and driving the carriage, she thought: Well, there
’s always Simmie.

Days later Alexandra said,
‘No one in the village knows anything about a pageant.’

Cecily shrugged carelessly.
‘Some girl told me about it and I believed her. Still, no harm done.’

*
* *

Edward did not discuss the visit until he and William were at home in Sunderland. Then, one evening after dinner, when the maid had cleared the table and he was alone with William, he dropped the first bombshell:
‘I would like to make you a partner. I’ve been told by my doctor that I must ease up a bit and I’d like you to take on some of my work.’

William looked startled, then concerned.
‘I didn’t know you were ill.’

‘
I’m not.’ Edward gave him a reassuring grin. ‘I just have to cut down on my work. Will you take on some of it?’