Together for Christmas (35 page)

Just then, the scullery maids burst in with Aggie. They all looked flustered. Aggie was puffing and her cap was tilted on her head. They all wore aprons spattered with the green-grey stains of
the vegetable broth Mrs Bell had just cooked.

‘Well, get yourselves trays and clear up the mess before you take this lot in!’ Mrs Bell cried, hands on hips, shooing them back to the dining room.

‘Do you want me to take a message to Hilda?’ Flora asked as she got ready to leave.

‘What message would that be?’ The elderly lady was silent, then muttered, ‘But you can take her sewing bag if you like. I put a few pennies inside it.’

Flora looked into Mrs Bell’s plump, wholesome face. For a moment, their eyes met. Flora knew that she still cared deeply for Hilda.

The cook gave a rueful smile. ‘And tell her I send me love.’

Flora felt happy as she leaped up the stairs to Hilda’s old room. Mrs Bell hadn’t forgotten Hilda after all.

The landings and corridors all smelled musty and were freezing cold even in the middle of June. When she opened the door to Hilda’s room, she gave a soft sigh. Memories of the days when
Hilda had first started at Hailing House flooded back. They had been happy in their new lives away from the orphanage. Hilda had been given a room of her own, even though it was in the attic. She
had made it warm and homely with the help of Mrs Bell. Now the little room felt abandoned. The smell of the cook’s polish had faded and a coat of dust lay over the furniture.

Hilda’s sewing bag was on the bed. Flora held it close. Hilda didn’t appear to be returning to Hailing House. This might be the last time that Flora would come in here.

Early on a warm Friday morning in July, Flora waited eagerly for Lillian to arrive in Michael’s car. When she heard the noise of the rattling engine outside, she hurried
up the airey’s steps.

‘All set?’ asked Lillian from the driving seat. The hood was down and she was wearing a wide-brimmed hat and goggles.

Flora climbed into the passenger seat. She was careful to button up her coat and wind her scarf around her head.

‘I’m glad to see you’ve dressed sensibly,’ said Lillian approvingly.

Flora saw that her companion had chosen to wear hardy tweeds, leather driving gloves and long boots.

‘This automobile has a mind of its own,’ Lillian said as they leap-frogged forward. ‘Now hold tight!’

Every so often the car would make a loud bang. When that happened, pedestrians stopped to stare at them. It wasn’t very often that a woman was seen to be in command of a motor vehicle.

As they crossed the bridge, Lillian squeezed the rubber hooter. A bicyclist jumped down from his bike and glared at them. Lillian only laughed. ‘This automobile is not at all like the van
I drive for the voluntary service.’

‘So you are a volunteer driver?’ Flora held on tightly as they bounced along.

‘After Michael left I decided to do my bit to help the war effort. I offered my services to a volunteer organization for women. Some are from the suffrage movement, just like the girl you
told me about who drove you to Bristol. In my opinion, women make very good drivers. Perhaps one day I can teach you, Flora.’

‘I’d like that.’

Flora smiled as Lillian expertly drove them through the streets. Lillian was like Sally: strong and independent. Flora was sure that if anyone could persuade Lady Bertha to
take Will at Adelphi Hall, it was Lillian.

‘It’s very beautiful, isn’t it?’

Flora and Lillian paused on a mossy, green bank overlooking Adelphi Hall. The house stood in all its glory amidst the green parklands. Its marble columns gleamed in the sunshine and Flora
remembered how disappointed Hilda had been when they were instructed to take the tradesmen’s route. Now, Lillian pointed the car towards the long winding path that led to the main entrance.
But instead of the stately black car that had been parked there previously, army vehicles and ambulances were lined up outside.

‘It looks very different to when I last visited over twenty years ago,’ Lillian said wistfully as they climbed back into their rattling seats. Lillian hadn’t turned off the
engine for fear that it might not start again.

‘Did you ever meet the earl?’ Flora asked curiously.

‘On one occasion, yes.’

‘What was he like?’

Lillian smiled thoughtfully. ‘In his youth, he stood out among men.’

‘Hilda says he’s never seen now.’

‘He and his sister, Bertie, never really got on. She resented the fact that she could never inherit Adelphi. Lord William’s first wife, Lady Amelia, tried to draw the family
together. But after she died in childbirth, Bertie took advantage of her brother’s grief. She filled the house with her fun-loving friends and spoiled Guy. Lord William went back into the
army and became a very remote figure to his son and heir.’

‘Why did the earl never remarry?’ Flora asked.

Lillian sighed gently. ‘The story is that he was entranced by a beautiful servant girl. Some say they were lovers and a child was conceived. Bertie discovered their secret and, fearing her
brother would make this girl his wife, so making their offspring a rival to Guy, she had them, well, disposed of.’

‘Do you mean she—’

Lillian nodded. ‘So the story goes.’

‘But could Lady Bertha really do such a thing to her own brother?’

Lillian shrugged. ‘Who knows?’

Flora was shocked as they drove down the wide path to Adelphi Hall. Could this story be true? If so, then no wonder the poor earl shut himself away from such a cruel world!

Lillian parked the car behind one of the ambulances and they climbed out. Flora gave a soft gasp. Adelphi Hall was even more beautiful, more breathtaking, up close. Even its new role as a
hospital couldn’t diminish Adelphi Hall’s grace and splendour.

Lillian took Flora’s arm. ‘I promise I will do my best for Will.’

Flora smiled. ‘Thank you.’

Just then they heard a loud voice. The orders barked out were from a dark-haired, middle-aged woman addressing two stretcher-bearers. She wore a tunic, belted at the waist, with epaulettes on
her shoulders and brass buttons down her jacket.

Lillian nudged Flora, and whispered, ‘That’s Bertie!’

Flora’s mouth fell open.

‘I’m sure you will want to join your friend.’ Lady Bertha Forsythe looked down her long, aristocratic nose at Flora. ‘Tell Mrs Burns to feed you. I
shall send someone for you later.’

Lillian gave Flora a warm smile. ‘I shan’t be long, Flora.’

‘Nonsense, Lillian,’ interrupted Lady Bertha sharply. ‘The girl will find plenty to occupy her below stairs. You and I have twenty years to catch up on. After lunch, I should
like you to meet Guy. He was just a boy when you saw him last. And there is someone else too: his fiancée, Lady Gabriella.’

Flora returned Lillian’s intimate smile. She knew that Michael’s mother intended to do everything in her power to convince Lady Bertha to take Will.

As she walked round to the stables, Flora thought about Lady Bertha Forsythe. The question in her mind was, could this lady be capable of treachery and perhaps murder?

A cold chill went down Flora’s spine as she recalled Mrs Bell’s warning to Hilda. Now, Lillian had added much more. The stories were not proven to be true. But perhaps they
weren’t false either.

Flora glanced through the tall windows. She saw the tops of iron bedsteads, and a strong smell of disinfectant poured out of an open window. Adelphi Hall was now a place of rest and healing.

But perhaps that had not always been so.

From the attics of the house a tall figure surveyed the vehicles beneath. He was accustomed to the noise and activity now. And although he kept hidden from view, the arrival of
the medical staff and wounded soldiers gave Lord William Calvey the greatest pleasure to watch. The house, at last, had regained its dignity. There was purpose to its life. No longer were there
fanciful carriages containing their equally fanciful passengers pulling up, to be lavished and spoiled by Bertha and Guy. The war had achieved much more for Adelphi Hall than he could have done
himself. Yes, he had been weak and a fool. He had allowed Bertha to usurp him, to destroy the foundations of his world. But nature had taken recourse and now his great house was living again as it
truly should.

Then suddenly his blue eyes widened. A vehicle approached. Did he recognize it? Didn’t he know it? A woman climbed out, tall and elegant, from the driver’s position. His eyes were
playing on her, studying her, but he could not tell from this position, four floors up, who she was. Then, with a dainty step, a young woman joined her from the passenger seat.

The earl took a sharp breath. His stomach tightened, gripped in a vice. Her figure was slim, her fair hair bounced in waves over her shoulders, and the way she moved . . .

He blinked hard, recalling the day he had raised his binoculars and seen her before. She’d been accompanied by a man, a young, upright fellow who had used a cane, and had tried to hurry to
her as that fool of a son of his had almost ridden into her.

Yes, he’d only glimpsed her then.

But now he could see her clearly. The shape of her head, her curls, her soft, gentle movement, and he felt himself falling against the window, his heart clamouring to be out of his chest, his
throat dry as he ached to call her back.

He pressed his face against the glass. His lips moved tremblingly as he followed her every movement as far as he could.

And when she had disappeared, he stayed there, wondering if he was dreaming, whispering in a halting breath, ‘Constance . . . Constance . . .’

‘We’d better look sharp,’ Mrs Harris shouted across the kitchen. ‘Lord Guy and Lady Gabriella are dining with Lady Bertha and her husband this
evening.’

‘Dinner for six served to the family this evening,’ agreed Mrs Burns as she supervized the kitchen staff, sending the maids in all directions. ‘Not in the dining room of
course, but on the second floor. Now, Mrs Harris, what have we to prepare?’

‘We’ve poultry, game and roast woodcock, Mrs Burns. Creamed spinach, braised celery and creamed potatoes, though I’ll find something special to end with. Perhaps some jellies
in those moulds we used before the war. Something big and colourful to take the eye. You can only do so much though, with catering for the sick too. It’ll have to be tarts, blancmange and
fruit from the greenhouse, so we’ll need fresh supplies from the kitchen garden.’

‘Her ladyship has another guest for high tea, an old friend from London, don’t forget.’

‘I forget nothing, Mrs Burns, don’t worry on that score. Now perhaps you’d alert Mr Leighton to the drinks we’ll serve with the meal?’

‘I have it all in hand,’ Mrs Burns said tersely, glancing sharply at the figure entering the rear door of the kitchen. ‘Ah, and about time too.’ She narrowed her gaze at
Hilda, who stood waiting for orders as the maids and footmen flew in and out of the kitchen, barely giving her a glance. She usually felt out of place in the kitchen in her trousers and shirt, but
what she’d overheard distressed her more deeply at that moment. Lady Gabriella! The name she dreaded to hear. How could Lord Guy turn his attention to such an ugly woman? Hilda had watched
their cars arrive yesterday. Lady Gabriella and her maid, both spilling jewels and high fashion, even in wartime. With a troop of servants following like a circus parade.

‘Are you listening to me, girl?’ Mrs Burns demanded.

‘Yes, Mrs Burns.’

‘Here is your list. See Peter, and make certain you bring Mrs Harris all she needs.’

‘Yes, Mrs Burns.’

‘I expect you to continue with your duties today.’ Mrs Burns drew herself up. ‘I understand her ladyship has kindly permitted you a visitor?’

‘Yes, my friend, Flora.’ It was clear to Hilda that Mrs Burns disapproved. But at the same time, she could not ignore Lady Bertha’s command that she was to be allowed two hours
off in Flora’s company.

‘Very inconvenient, when we have guests.’

‘Sorry, Mrs Burns.’

‘Remember, Mrs Harris’ list comes first. Now off you go.’

Hilda left the hot kitchen, pleased to be outside in the sunshine. Though not pleased to be considered unworthy to serve at table, as she had done before her accident.

Hilda made her way towards the greenhouses, thinking of her lover. If only he were that: her lover, and hers alone. Why did he come for her so infrequently now? And when he did, there was hardly
a word passed between them. He took her roughly when and wherever he wanted. Though never when Lady Gabriella was visiting. The times they were together were growing fewer and fewer. She ached for
him. She longed for him. What had happened to their love?

‘Hilda!’ A soft voice came across the lawn. She turned and saw Flora. Hilda’s eyes filled with tears.

‘Flora!’

They embraced and Hilda smelled Flora’s fragrance, sniffed the scent in her hair and saw the blush on her cheeks. She was suddenly envious. Flora was a reminder of how she once looked, of
freedom and of the island.

‘It’s been such a long time. Are you better now?’

‘Yes.’

‘I’ve missed you.’ Flora gazed down at Hilda’s trousers. ‘Hilda, what are you wearing?’

‘Sometimes I’m asked to collect the vegetables. Not always, of course, only when staff are short.’ Hilda lied, knowing that Flora thought she was still a housemaid.

‘Why haven’t you written?’

‘I don’t get much time.’

‘But Hilda—’

‘You can come with me, if you like.’

Flora threaded her arm through Hilda’s. ‘I’ve got so much to tell you. Something about Will.’

‘Will? Is he all right?’ Hilda felt guilty. She hadn’t written to Will either.

‘He might be coming to Adelphi.’

Hilda stopped still. ‘Will? Coming here?’

‘Hilda, I’m sorry to tell you that he’s lost an arm.’

The news was so shocking, so sudden, that Hilda burst into tears. Flora put her arms around her sobbing friend. ‘I should have said in my letter.’

‘Why didn’t you?’

‘I wanted the whole thing to be a surprise.’

‘Losing an arm
is
a surprise,’ Hilda sobbed.