No Wings to Fly (58 page)

‘Thank you, ma’am.’

‘I don’t mind telling you that Lavinia’s going to miss you so much, Miss Clair.’

‘I shall miss
her
.’

Mrs Soameson nodded, pleased. ‘Well,’ she said, ‘I suppose we must get back to work . . .’ She rose from her seat as she spoke, and Lily rose along with her. In the hall they separated, Mrs Soameson to go back to her packing chores in the drawing room, and Lily to return to the schoolroom and Lavinia.

Thursday and Friday passed and there was still no letter from Joel. It was a week since he had been due to return to England, and there had been not a single word.

Lily was up and breakfasted well before the first postal delivery on Saturday morning, but again there was nothing for her. She had no time to brood, however. There were so many last-minute preparations to be made before her employers’ departure for the station, and she felt obliged to do what she could to help. Shortly after a hurried and informal luncheon, Mr Soameson came to her in the schoolroom where she was packing away her text book primers and papers. There he thanked her for her work with Lavinia, and presented her with a new reference, remarking as he did so that it was glowing, and should surely help her in securing a new post. In addition, he paid her the balance of her wages, and was kind enough to give her a little bonus in recognition of her employment being terminated earlier than had been anticipated. When it was all done he shook her hand, wished her luck in her future career, and said he hoped that one day they might meet again.

After he had gone, Mrs Soameson and Lavinia came into
the room. Lavinia’s eyes were moist as she said goodbye, and impulsively she put her arms around her. Lily bent and kissed the child, and for some moments they held one another. ‘I’ll write to you, miss,’ Lavinia said, a little tearfully. ‘Will you write to me?’ Lily replied that of course she would.

When the final goodbyes had been said, Lavinia went from the room, leaving Lily and Mrs Soameson alone. After reassuring herself that Mr Soameson had satisfactorily settled everything with Lily with regard to her wages and her reference, Mrs Soameson handed Lily a slip of paper bearing the family’s Edinburgh address, and exhorted her to write at once should there be any problem. ‘You’ll go back to Sherrell when you leave here next Sunday, will you?’ she asked, and Lily replied that she would, and would probably remain there until she found a new position.

Then it was time for farewells, and for Lily to wish her mistress a pleasant journey. At this Mrs Soameson gave a groaning little laugh and said, ‘Oh, that journey! Almost eleven hours, and I can never sleep on those trains. We shall be wrecks by the time we arrive.’ With a final goodbye she moved to the doorway. She must, she said, go and spend some last few minutes with Joshie. ‘His cold is worse,’ she added, ‘and he so wants to come with us. But I can’t put him through that exhausting journey – not the way he’s feeling.’

It was close on two o’clock, and soon afterwards Lily – now having said her goodbyes to Lizzie too – stood at the window of her room looking down onto the back yard. There she watched as Mr Soameson and Lavinia and the maid got into the carriage, ready to start on the first part of their journey. Mrs Soameson stood with Joshua in her arms until the last moment, at which point she kissed him and then handed him over to Miss Cattock who stood nearby.
Two minutes later the carriage was rattling down the drive and out onto the road.

The atmosphere in the house was strange without its recently departed inhabitants. Later in the afternoon, released from her teaching schedule, Lily helped Susie, the daily maid, with the packing of some linen and a little china, and afterwards went up to the nursery to join Emily Cattock and the boy. The child’s cold had well and truly taken hold and he lay in his bed listless and fretful.

Lily ate dinner that evening with Miss Cattock, Mrs Lemmon and Susie in the servants’ dining room. Later, she went up to the schoolroom where she sat at her table and wrote to Miss Elsie, telling her that her employment with the Soamesons would terminate on the coming Sunday, and that she would be returning to Sherrell some time that day.

The next day was the fifth of November. Lily spent the day in desultory occupations, helping where she could and also spending time with the boy and his nurse. In the evening there came the sound of fireworks – cracks and bangs coming from the direction of the village centre – and she and Emily Cattock stood at the nursery window and looked out towards the flares of light. Over on a hill through the gathering autumn mist they saw the glow of a distant bonfire where yet another effigy of Guy Fawkes was burning.

Monday came . . . Tuesday . . . Still no word from Joel. The red-jacketed postman came to the house on both days, but brought nothing for Lily. Joel must have had an accident, she told herself. It was the only answer. Either that or he had been taken ill. But where? Was he still in France? Was he in England? Yet again she thought of writing to him at his home in Corster, but when it came to it she drew back. She would be a part of his life one day, and one day soon,
but that time was not yet. And yet, if he were sick, would he be so sick that he could not even write a few lines? The questions spun and pounded through her brain.

On Wednesday Joshua appeared somewhat brighter, and in the morning, while Emily Cattock worked at her sewing, Lily sat with the boy on the rug before the fire and spread his coloured bricks before him. They were painted with the letters of the alphabet and simple words, and bright pictures of animals. Together Lily and the boy went through them as he named the letters and words, and then tried to read out the short sentences that Lily composed. He was thrilled to find that he was successful almost without fail, and Lily and Emily applauded him. At the sound of their approval he chuckled, pleased with himself and eagerly asked for more.

In the afternoon, after the boy’s nap, Lily and the nurse took him outside to get a little fresh air – advocated always by Mrs Soameson – all three wrapped up against the sharp breeze. Mr Beeching, taking advantage of the spell of dry weather, was cutting the grass of the back lawn, the last cut of the season. He was standing with legs astride, rhythmically swinging the scythe, the hush and swish of the blade sounding keen in the November air. Lily and Emily and the boy walked past him down the central path between the lawns, down wide stone steps into a lower area beyond, where more lawns and flowerbeds were laid out.

Leaving the formal garden behind, they followed the path down through the kitchen garden and into the orchard. In the summer, Miss Cattock said, Joshie had been happy to play among the trees with his sister, and to amuse himself on the swing that hung from one of the apple-tree boughs. Today, though, when asked if he would like to go on the swing he shook his head and said no, he would rather go back indoors. At his words, the three of them turned and started back towards the house.

The accident happened as they were climbing the broad steps that separated the lower part of the formal garden from the higher. Lily was in front, with Joshua and the nurse immediately behind. As Lily moved onto the top step she heard Emily give a little squeal of fright, added to at once by a cry from the boy. Turning quickly at the sounds, she was just in time to see the nurse falling in an awkward heap at the foot of the steps.

Joshua, halfway up the steps, stood with his hands pressed to his face, his expression contorted in horror at the sight as he let out a wail. Stepping down past him, Lily was quickly at the other young woman’s side, bending over her as she lay on the path, one leg twisted beneath her and the other at an uncomfortable-looking angle with her boot propped up on the lowest step. She was grimacing in pain, her breath coming out through gritted teeth. All the while Joshua was wailing, shaken by the violent drama of the accident and seeing the pain in the nurse’s face. Lily turned to him and said quickly, soothingly, ‘It’s all right, Joshie. Nursie will be all right. She’s just had a little fall. Don’t be upset.’ She turned her attention back to the nurse. ‘Can you get up, Emily? Let me help you.’

With some difficulty she helped the nurse up into a sitting position, though it was not without the young woman suffering considerable discomfort. ‘I’ve hurt my ankle,’ the nurse said. ‘I don’t know whether I can stand on it.’

‘I’ll help you,’ Lily said. ‘Lean on me.’

It proved not to be possible. As the nurse, clinging to Lily’s arm, put down her right foot in order to stand, she recoiled with a sharp cry. All the while Joshua’s crying continued in the background, though his wailing was now subsiding into a little sobbing sniffle.

‘I can’t,’ the nurse said. ‘I can’t stand on it.’

Lily helped her to sit back on the lower step, then
straightened, looking around for the gardener. He was no longer in sight. ‘Don’t move – I’ll go and find Mr Beeching,’ she said. ‘He can’t be far away.’ Then to the boy, gently: ‘You stay here with Nursie, Joshie. I’ll be back in a moment.’

She was away then, her skirts held in both hands, hurrying up the steps and between the lawns. Racing round the side of the house she saw Mr Beeching cutting the grass near the front gate, and ran to him. Miss Cattock had hurt herself in a fall, she said, and could not get up. Mr Beeching at once laid down his scythe and came running.

Between them they managed to get the nurse into the house, where Mrs Lemmon came and at once took charge and directed them into the morning room. There Miss Cattock was helped onto the sofa, and while Lily turned her attention to soothe the child, Mr Beeching went to wait out in the hall. When he had gone, Mrs Lemmon took a look at the injured leg, taking off the nurse’s boot. The young woman’s ankle was already swelling alarmingly, and was obviously very painful to the touch. They must, Mrs Lemmon said, send for Dr Sheene, and at once she went out into the hall to despatch Mr Beeching with the summons. That done, Lily took Joshua up to the nursery, away from all the fuss, and there tried to distract him with his blocks.

The doctor came later, and after his departure Mrs Lemmon came up to the nursery where Joshua sat on the rug before the fire with his toys, the trauma of the recent past now forgotten. Mrs Lemmon looked down at him as he played, and said to Lily in her soft Scottish brogue, ‘Is he all right here with you? He is, isn’t he?’

‘Oh, he’s fine,’ Lily said. ‘He’s absolutely fine.’

‘Good. Poor Nurse can’t get up the stairs as things are. She’s going to have to sleep down there on the sofa.’

The doctor, Mrs Lemmon went on to say, had pronounced Miss Cattock’s ankle very badly sprained. He had
bound it up, she added, and instructed the nurse that she must rest it and put no weight on it for several days.

Lily said, ‘But she’s to travel up to Scotland on Sunday with Joshua. That’s only four days away. Mr and Mrs Soameson are expecting them.’

‘Well, she can’t travel,’ Mrs Lemmon said. ‘The girl’s not capable of walking a step, and she’s certainly not going to be well enough by Sunday. That’s all there is to it.’ She paused briefly, then said, ‘I’ve just been talking about this with her.’ Another brief pause. ‘
You
could take the boy, miss.’

‘I? Take him up to Scotland?’

‘Why not? The fare’s all paid for. The tickets are bought and the sleeper’s booked. And he’ll go with you happily enough – though he wouldn’t go with just anybody, Nurse says.’

‘Does she say that?’ Lily said, sounding pathetic to her own ears, seeking endorsement of the heart-warming tribute.

‘Oh, she does indeed.’ Mrs Lemmon nodded, backing up her words. ‘Well, what do you think, miss? Can you take the boy? He’ll be in good hands with you, and you won’t have any other duties.’

‘No, that’s true, I shall not,’ Lily said. She realised suddenly that it was something she wanted to do. It would give her time to spend with the boy – all those hours she would have with him, half the day and all the night . . . ‘Yes, I suppose I could,’ she said, sounding a little uncertain, as if she were making up her mind. ‘Yes,’ she said, ‘I will.’

Mrs Lemmon nodded, pleased and relieved. ‘That’s grand,’ she said. ‘The child will get there after all. Mrs Soameson will have to be told. Will you write to her? I don’t think Nurse is quite up to it.’

‘Yes, of course. I’ll do it now. Mrs Soameson should get it tomorrow, or Friday at the latest.’

When Mrs Lemmon had departed, Lily satisfied herself that the child was safe and content, then hurried across the landing to her room. There she gathered up her writing materials and went back to the nursery. Joshua was still playing happily before the fire, protected from the flames by the fire-guard. Lily set down her things on the little table by the window, then said to the boy, ‘You know you’re going up to Scotland on Sunday, don’t you, Joshie?’

He smiled. ‘Yes, I’m going to see my mama.’

‘Yes, you are. But Nurse won’t be taking you now. Did you hear what Mrs Lemmon said?
I
shall be taking you.’

‘Oh. Won’t Nursie be coming with us?’

‘No, she won’t. But she’ll come up later – when her leg’s better.’

He nodded. ‘But you’re coming with me.’

‘Yes, I shall be taking you. All the way to Scotland. Won’t that be thrilling?’

‘Yes.’

Lily sat down at the table, and arranged her writing paper before her. ‘Now I’m going to write to your mama in Edinburgh. Will you be all right while I do that, darling?’

He gave a laugh, showing his perfect little teeth. ‘Of course I will.’ Picking up his wooden horse he held it up to her. ‘Can Mr Charlie Dobbin come too?’

‘Oh, most certainly. We couldn’t go without Mr Charlie Dobbin. Besides, the more the merrier.’ She adjusted her chair. ‘Now – I must get my letter done.’

She dipped her pen in the inkwell and began to write.

When the letter was finished, she gave it to Mrs Lemmon, who arranged with Mr Beeching to have it taken to the post box.

Lily slept in the nursery that night, in Miss Cattock’s bed, while the nurse spent the night downstairs on the sofa, an old walking stick beside her to enable her to take a few
necessary steps when required. The nurse’s accident had changed the whole routine in the house. There was no precedent for such a situation, and it was a matter of doing what was best. While Miss Cattock protested that she was taking a liberty by being in the morning room, Lily and Mrs Lemmon told her that she had no option, and that Mr and Mrs Soameson would certainly want her to have every aid to promote her comfort and recovery. Lily also told her that she had fully informed Mrs Soameson of the nurse’s accident, and had assured her that they would manage perfectly well in spite of it, and that she herself would travel with Joshua to arrive in Edinburgh on Monday morning as arranged.