Sentimental Journey (63 page)

Audrey laughed, and she heard Eleanore laughing, too. Gerald was coming down to join them the next day. Her sister’s husband hadn’t visited in more than a year. She wasn’t certain Eleanore had seen him in more than a year. The war separated families in terrible ways.

She stood there and met all of George’s friends, listening to each of their voices, measuring their height compared to hers as they stood before her, the touch of their hands, the things that gave some idea of who they were when you couldn’t look into their eyes. You learned some things out of necessity.

But she wanted badly to see their faces.

George then introduced them to Eleanore, while Audrey tried to take the measure of the woman her son had brought to Keighley. Charlotte. The girl was standing in front of her and was terribly nervous.

She could understand that all too well as she held out her hand. “Charlotte. Welcome to Keighley.”

“Thank you for having me. Your home is lovely and the grounds are breathtaking.”

“You like the out-of-doors? Splendid. You and I shall have to take a walk in the gardens later.” She leaned closer and patted her hand. “I promise I won’t eat you alive. Now relax, my dear, I’m truly pleased you are here.”

“Thank you. That is so kind of you,” Charlotte said quietly. “This is my father, Bob Morrison. Come closer, Pop.”

“Mrs. Inskip.” There was that deep voice. He was very tall, and his presence seemed to take up a large space in front of her.

He took her hand in his.

It was a hard hand. Callused.

“My name is Audrey. Please. And I shall call you Bob.”

“Thank you for opening your lovely home to us. I can’t tell you how relieved I am to get out of London for a few days. Haven’t had much chance to see your country since I got here. If your home and the grounds are anything to go by, then I have certainly missed some beautiful country.”

“Yes, well, it is particularly nice when we aren’t at war,” she said dryly. “My son tells me you draw planes.”

She said it at a lull in the conversations, and for a moment there was complete silence.

“Not draw, Mother. Bob is an aerocraft designer.”

“Well, if he designs them, George dear, he must have to draw them on something. Isn’t that right, Bob?”

She could hear his smile when he replied, “Well, Audrey, I’d say you’re right about that. I draw ’
em
, build ’em, and fly ’
em
. How about I take you up in one sometime? Ever been in a plane?”

“Good God, no.”

“Your son’s a pilot.”

“It doesn’t run in the family.”

“You might like it.”

She didn’t say anything for a moment because her first reaction was to laugh at the mere thought of climbing into an aeroplane. But she didn’t laugh. Instead she remembered a photo she had seen years before in the newspapers of Amy Johnson, standing by her plane and smiling. The woman looked free and happy. “You think I would like it?”

“You seem to me to be the kind of woman who would like the power of it, Audrey. There’s a great feeling of satisfaction in doing something that seems impossible. I think you would enjoy it. You seem to be a woman who likes a challenge.”

Did she? Perhaps she used to be that kind of woman. The person she was now didn’t want to face any more challenges. She shook her head. “I don’t think so. Not me. George did tell me that you knew the Wright brothers?”

Before he could answer, she heard George laugh loud and hard and honestly.

Audrey turned suddenly toward the sound of it, a sound she hadn’t heard in a long, long time.

“Charley,” her son warned his friend, still laughing at something she’d said. “You are looking for trouble, my girl.”

Her son was really laughing. There was no bitterness to the sound at all.

She hadn’t meant to ignore Charlotte’s father. She could feel Bob looking at her.

He leaned down and said quietly, “Are you all right? You look haunted.”

“Perhaps I am,” she said quietly. “I just heard something I thought had died.”

“MASQUERADE IS OVER”

For the next day and a half, Keighley was a different place for Audrey. The young people were so full of fun. And she liked Bob Morrison. Gerald, Eleanore, Bob, and she played cards in the evening. It was great fun. Kitty Cassidy would be staying at Keighley, and Eleanore was going with Gerald to London for a few weeks. Everything had been going well until breakfast, when Charley almost bit Skip’s head off and they had a small row.

She gave the girl time to cool down and then asked where she was. Peters told her Miss Charlotte was in the small parlor reading.

Audrey stood in the doorway. “I was wondering if you would help me, dear. I would like to go for a walk. They say it’s lovely outside.”

“Of course.” Charlotte walked over to her.

Audrey put her arm around the girl’s waist. “My, you are tall.”

“Yes, I know. Luckily I don’t have to duck through doorways and I can reach things on the top shelves. But let me tell you, those little blue tea chairs in the parlor are a long way down.”

They laughed and walked outside arm in arm.

“I heard you and Skip this morning.”

“I’m sorry you had to hear.” The tone of her voice said that she was still very upset.

“Would you like to talk about it? I love my son, dear, but I was married for a long time. Men can be quite foolish.”

“I’m just . . . I don’t know. I feel terrible. Skip and I had a lovely day in London a few weeks ago. He bought me a bottle
of Ma Griffe.
Actually, he lied to me and said he was buying it for you because he knew I wouldn’t accept it. He tricked me. But this morning I heard one of the servants talking. One of them said it was strange because I smelled like Greer.”

“Yes, well, my son is an ass.”

“I believe that was what I called him.”

“You know, Charlotte. It smells quite lovely on you.”

“Thank you, but it doesn’t feel right. Wearing his dead wife’s perfume?”

“Did you know that scents react to the individual? To the skin? Perfumes smell differently on each person. I can tell you, while the scent might be familiar, it doesn’t smell the way it did on Greer.”

“I would like to believe that.”

“I wouldn’t lie about it. If you smelled like her, I’d tell you to give the bottle away. In your shoes, I might have thrown it at him.”

They walked through the path in the rose garden and Audrey said, “I can smell the roses here this time of year. The pink ones have the strongest and sweetest scent.”

“They’re beautiful.”

“Each type of rose has a different scent. Rather like women.”

“That was subtle.”

“I’m not known for my subtlety, but for my directness.”

“I appreciate it, Audrey. Thank you.”

They made their way down the gravel pathway that the gardeners had added so she could walk safely to the stone bench set near the edge of the lake. She liked to sit there on sunny days.

“I love the gardens and the lake,” Charlotte told her. “Everything is so green here. I feel as if I’m a million miles away from the war.”

“Good. You should. The bench is nearby?”

“Yes. It’s only a foot away from us. To the right a bit. Not too far from the gravestone.”

“That is Greer’s.”

“I thought it might be.” She hesitated. “I’ve never asked Skip about her. I didn’t want to open old wounds for him, but I would like to know about her.”

“Of course you would. I have an idea. You must promise to come here whenever you can, my dear. I’d welcome your visit. The house is open to you anytime. Whenever they’re not flying you all over the countryside. You will most likely want to see Kitty. We can have a grand time together, all of us. And I promise I’ll tell you about Greer, and about George when he was a boy.”

“I’d like that.”

“Of course you would. A woman who is in love with a man should know all about his past, his accomplishments, and his faults.” She took the girl’s hand and patted it. “I understand that he made a mistake when he bought the perfume, but I’m certain it was well meant. I believe he wanted to give you a gift. He wouldn’t purposely hurt you.”

“I think I know that now. And I will come back and we’ll talk.” She cut off what she was going to say.

Someone was coming.

Charlotte turned away from her for a second. “Hey, Pop!”

“Hello, ladies.” Bob’s footsteps crunched on the gravel walk. “It’s a lovely day. Sunshine and blue skies.” He paused. “How’s my girl feeling?

“I’m better. Audrey and I talked.”

“And what did you two decide?”

“Men are stupid.” Charlotte laughed.

“I’m outnumbered, so I won’t argue for our cause.”

“Good.”

“Charlotte, why don’t you find my son and talk to him.”

“Perhaps I should. I wasn’t very nice to him earlier.”

“You run along, then.”

Charley leaned down and kissed her on the cheek. “Thank you. Bye, Pop!” Then there was only the sound of footsteps running up the path.

Neither Audrey nor Bob spoke for a minute.

“I don’t know what you said to my daughter, but whatever it was, it seems to have helped.”

“She’s a good girl.”

“Yes. She is. She was pretty upset this morning.”

“My son would not knowingly hurt her. He did something without thinking.”

“That’s why we need you women around to point out our shortcomings to us. Keep us on the straight and narrow.”

“Surely, you aren’t being sarcastic, Bob.”

“Me? Never. I’m used to having all my faults pointed out to me. Charley has never hesitated to tell me when she thinks I’m wrong.”

“When she thinks you’re wrong or when you
are
wrong?”

“Both.” He was quiet for a moment. “Here. Take my arm and let’s walk.”

They moved toward the house, through the garden. They talked about the flowers and she told him which roses were which. She hadn’t realized she knew them by their fragrances.

He talked about his planes and his home in the desert of New Mexico. They reached the house and went into the study. She sat in a chair by the garden doors where the sun shone in while he made them both a drink.

A few minutes later he crossed the room and handed it to her.

“Thank you.”

She heard him take a drink.
These Yanks and their ice.

“You seem like an honest woman.”

“More like blunt to a fault, I’d say. My husband used to tell me, ‘Audrey, old girl, you wield your opinions like a weapon—a cannon right to the face.’ “

They both laughed.