Strawberry Fields (21 page)
‘If they did they never said,’ Sara assured her. ‘I must see Nanny – I must ask her why she didn’t tell me herself.’
‘Well, go slowly, like,’ Miss Boote advised. She put her hand across the door, preventing Sara from simply rushing in. ‘Remember she’s been poorly, so just take it slow, don’t get her all excited and aerated.’
‘I won’t,’ Sara said at once. ‘But I have to ask! It isn’t that I disbelieve you, in fact I’m certain you’re speaking the truth, but – well, you know how it is.’
‘Aye, I do. You must be fair astonished,’ Miss Boote agreed. ‘Just remember to go gently, though, queen. I don’t suppose it’s been easy for your gran all these years. There must have been times when she longed to tell you, and I aren’t sure what stopped her, either . . . some threat, I daresay, knowin’ your mam as I do. Or did, rather,’ she added conscientiously. ‘Because we’ve not set eyes on each other since her marriage. We don’t move in the same circles, like,’ she finished.
‘Wait a moment, Miss Boote,’ Sara said urgently, as Miss Boote went to open the door. Another question had come to the forefront of her mind. ‘You say you knew my mother – did you know her from when she lived with her mother?’
‘Aye, though she were a good bit older than me. My mam and your gran was neighbours, chuck. We lived quite near here in them days, just round the corner in Commercial Road. Me dad were landlord of the Great Mersey public house for a while, then the drink made him bad so he took a job as a warehouseman and we moved into a little house in Commercial Road. We stayed on until Dad retired . . . in fact we didn’t move out till they found a house in Formby, ten year back. So you see, I knew Letty quite well, she used to take me to school if me mam was busy. She were a right tartar,’ she added reminiscently. ‘Very sure of herself, and very pretty. You have a look of her, only you’ve a sweeter expression.’
Sara was about to ask the next question when a voice came faintly through the heavy wooden door.
‘Clarrie? Who is it? It sounds . . . it sounds . . .’
Sara waited no longer. She flung open the door and ran across the room to where Mrs Prescott sat in a chair by the fire. She looked a little greyer, and possibly a trifle more frail, but otherwise she was just Sara’s dear nanny, the person she loved most in the world.
‘Oh, Nanny, it’s me, I’m home! Switzerland was wonderful, but it wasn’t home and I’m just so glad to be back at last. But how are you? Miss Boote said you’d been poorly, but were better now.’ She kissed the older woman lovingly, then stood back. ‘You look very well,’ she said bracingly. ‘But you’ve not much colour in your cheeks – what a pity it’s autumn . . . but the weather’s fine enough for some outings to bring back your rosy glow, Nanny! I’ll tell Mother I want the car in a day or so, when we have another sunny morning, and we’ll go out on the spree. Oh Nanny, it’s so
very
good to see you again after all this time!’
very
good to see you again after all this time!’
Mrs Prescott was smiling, her cheeks pink, her eyes very bright. ‘Oh Sara, my dear girl, I was beginnin’ to wonder whether they’d ever let you come back!’ She heaved a huge sigh. ‘There’s somethin’ I’ve got to tell you, and I aren’t lookin’ forward to it one bit for I can’t help feelin’ I’m breakin’ my word. But . . .’
‘You don’t have to tell me a thing,
Gran
,’ Sara said, emphasising the word. ‘Because I know, and I couldn’t be more delighted than if I’d been told my gran was Queen of England. It’s the best news in the world, it’s made me so happy I want to sing, and if you don’t want to go into details I’ll quite understand.’
Gran
,’ Sara said, emphasising the word. ‘Because I know, and I couldn’t be more delighted than if I’d been told my gran was Queen of England. It’s the best news in the world, it’s made me so happy I want to sing, and if you don’t want to go into details I’ll quite understand.’
‘Clarrie, you’re a very dear girl,’ Mrs Prescott called, but all she got from Miss Boote, halfway up the stairs, was a chuckle, so she turned back to Sara. ‘Well, I can’t pretend I’m sorry that all the lies and evasions are over, Sara my dear, but when you were born Letty made me swear on the Bible that I’d never breathe a word of our relationship and I were so besotted with you, queen – you were the loveliest baby – that I’d ha’ done anything, promised anything, just to be allowed to help bring you up. For it were clear from the first that your mam wasn’t goin’ to take an interest, and intended to turn you over to servants,’ she finished.
‘Why wouldn’t my mother admit you were her mother, though?’ Sara said thoughtfully. I don’t mean to upset you, Gran, but it seems very odd. Father must have known, for instance.’
But Mrs Prescott was shaking her head.
‘No, he didn’t know the whole truth, because Letty told him a fairytale, too. She said she was adopted, that I’d always wanted a child of me own so I’d adopted her from a respectable couple when the father died.’ Mrs Prescott sighed. ‘Eh, havin’ Letty was me one mistake, and didn’t I pay dear for it! You see, queen, I never had a husband. The truth is my mam put me in service with a rich family out at Bootle, but I was a flighty piece and I got into trouble. The baby’s da was me employer, and he was married, of course, so when they realised what had happened I was sacked, in disgrace. I had a hard time of it because me own parents cast me off – they were strict chapel – so I had to earn enough money to rear me child and keep meself, but somehow, I did it. Yet Letty despised me from the moment she discovered that her father had been a married man, and rich. She despised me first because I were weak enough to get in the family way and then because I’d not made use of her father. As soon as she could she left home, and invented a past for herself that satisfied her. When I said it were lies she got very angry, and said if I wanted to see her ever again I’d go along with it.
‘Well, for a long time I let her go her own way. She married, but she didn’t invite me to the wedding, and I understood when she told me the story she’d told Adolphus. A rich, reclusive mother living in Devonshire was all right for outsiders, but Adolphus had to know a bit more than that, so she became an adopted child.
‘But that, of course, gave me certain rights and to do your father justice, queen, he insisted that I be treated as part of the family, even though his wife refused to acknowledge me even as an adoptive parent. So he invited me to stay when Letty’s time was near, and when you were born the nurse brought you through . . . and I knew I’d do just about anything, queen, to be near you.’ She patted her granddaughter’s hand. ‘The rest you know, just about.’
‘Yes, thanks to Miss Boote,’ Sara said. ‘I’ll go and put the kettle on, Gran. Well, what a story! And you kept it to yourself all those years!’
‘Aye, because Letty said so long as I kept me mouth shut and never telled you I were your grandmother she’d see I saw you regular. Which she did, until she shipped you off to Switzerland.’ She paused, to turn in her chair as Sara walked behind her, heading for the kitchen. ‘She said she’d not broken her side of the bargain because no one could see you whilst you were abroad, but I didn’t see it like that. Other kids come home, holiday time, I telled her. Why not our Sara? But she wouldn’t give in, said it was fair enough, so I talked it over with meself and decided when you came home, I’d tell you everything. And now I’m going to close my eyes for ten minutes whilst you mash the tea; I’m wore out . . . isn’t that odd?’
Sara said that it wasn’t odd at all, then went into the kitchen and began to prepare a tray. No wonder I never liked my mother; she’s a liar and a cheat, she thought. She cheated Father by making him believe she was adopted, not illegitimate, and she lied to me and forced Nanny – I mean my grandmother – to lie to me, too.
Presently she carried the tray, laden with teapot, cups, milk and sugar as well as a prettily painted plate piled with crumpets, through into the living room and put it down on the low table in front of the fire. Her grandmother, who had been lying back in the chair with her eyes closed, looking very weary, opened her eyes and smiled.
‘Sara, that does look nice! Now I’ve told you the truth, and I want you to promise me something. Don’t hold it against your mam, queen! She lied herself into a position where she simply had to tell more lies, you see. If your father had been a gentler, more understanding feller, she could have owned up, told him – and you – the truth, but he’s a cold fish, is Adolphus. I used to comfort meself with the thought that they were well suited, and I reckon you’re a throw-back, queen, because you aren’t at all like either of them. But having it out with Letty wouldn’t do anyone any good, so . . . will you promise me?’
And oddly enough, it was easy to make the promise, knowing very well that Gran was right. What is done cannot be undone and nothing would change even if she did confront her mother with her past misdeeds. Forcing Mrs Cordwainer to face up to what she had done would help no one, least of all Gran.
‘Old history, old history,’ Gran said, when Sara tried to put her thoughts into words. ‘You’re right, queen. It’s best buried and forgot.’
Sara speared a crumpet and sat forward in her chair, holding the fork out to the fire and toasting both her face and fingers as well as the crumpets. And looking round the firelit room, and hearing the clock in the corner strike four, Sara thought she had seldom been happier.
‘Are you ready, Sara?’ Mrs Cordwainer was standing in the circular hallway of the big house on Aigburth Road, pulling on her pale leather gloves. She was wearing a cream and gold dress with a mink jacket over it and her hair had been curled and piled up on top of her head. Mrs Cordwainer noticed Sara and posed for a moment in front of the big cheval glass to the right of the front door, then turned to her daughter. ‘I don’t like to be late, even for a harvest supper, which is scarcely the same thing as a service. But the Reverend Atwell will want to say a few words, and your father has been told he may be asked to say grace, so it wouldn’t do to be late.’
‘I’m ready,’ Sara said coolly. ‘You look very smart, Mother.’
‘Thank you, Sara. You do me credit – that silk coat is very pretty and goes well with your dress. Green suits you, and the shoes are delightful . . . yes, really elegant. I always wore very high heels when I was younger but now I find them difficult to walk in. Ah well, there are compensations in growing a little older . . . we mature ladies can wear fur with aplomb; fur tends to make young girls look older than their years, I always think. Your father’s gone to bring the car round; he isn’t finding it easy to cope with so we’d best go outside and wait for him there.’
‘Where’s Robson? Or is it his day off?’ Sara asked idly as the two of them left the house and stood outside on the gravel sweep waiting for the car to come round. ‘I haven’t seen him since I’ve been back. I know Father does drive himself quite often now, but not to social events, does he?’
‘Oh, Robson left last week,’ Mrs Cordwainer said coolly. ‘I’m not sure of the details, but the government took us off the Gold Standard, whatever that may mean, and the pound slumped, or your father’s shares fell – something of that nature, anyway. So your father decided he would have to make some economies.’
‘But Robson’s been with us since I was a kid; what’ll he do? Where will he go?’ Sara asked. ‘What about his flat? Surely Father won’t need it? Can’t Robson stay there?’
‘No, indeed. We could let that flat for a nice little sum, if the need ever arose. As for where he is now, I’m sure I can’t say.’
‘But what will Robson
do
?’ Sara repeated helplessly. ‘Without a roof over his head, even? What will happen to his wife?’
do
?’ Sara repeated helplessly. ‘Without a roof over his head, even? What will happen to his wife?’
‘She’ll go wherever he goes, of course,’ Mrs Cordwainer said impatiently. ‘No doubt he’ll get another job somewhere and move into whatever accommodation the new job offers. It’s not as if they had children.’
‘They did have a child,’ Sara said in a low voice. ‘They had a little boy, but he died when he was three. Don’t say you didn’t know, Mother, you must have!’
‘I most certainly did not; I know nothing about any of the staff, other than that which it was my duty to know,’ her mother replied immediately. ‘Robson’s private life was none of my business – nor yours, I might add. Ah, here comes Adolphus.’
There was a note of relief in her voice. Her mother did not like being cross-questioned about the sudden disappearance of Robson; she obviously considered it a matter of such little importance that discussing it seemed absurd.
She is the most selfish woman alive, Sara told herself as she and her mother waited on the drive for the Rolls. I’ll have to go down to the kitchen tomorrow, see if I can find out what’s happened to the poor chap.
Despite her father’s many driving lessons with Robson, it seemed that he was not a natural behind the wheel. The car, when it finally came round the corner, was spitting and coughing, with a red-faced Adolphus behind the wheel. He stopped to let them get aboard but would not switch off the engine or linger a moment longer than necessary.
The bloody thing is as temperamental as a woman,’ Sara heard him say furiously as he wrestled with the gear lever. ‘I’m not at all sure getting rid of Robson was a good thing; I’m of the opinion that two of the maids, or the cook, could have been dispensed with more easily.’
‘Nonsense, Adolphus,’ her mother said immediately. ‘You’re an intelligent man, it’s only an
engine,
for goodness’ sake, you’ll soon learn to master it. And do go a little faster or we’ll be last, and I hate arriving anywhere last.’
engine,
for goodness’ sake, you’ll soon learn to master it. And do go a little faster or we’ll be last, and I hate arriving anywhere last.’
But when they reached the big marquee set out in the square in front of the church it was already full and the Reverend Atwell was impatiently consulting his watch. When he saw the Cordwainers his brow cleared, and he waved to them and hurried over.
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