Act of Will (7 page)

She sighed and bestirred herself, then sat up, blinking as she opened her eyes and adjusted them to the brightness. Poor Frederick and William had had nothing but bad luck really. Their letters, which arrived less frequently these days, were permeated with defeat. Audra had all but given up hope of going out to join them in Sydney. She continued to fret and to miss them, and she supposed she always would. They were her only family, after all, and she loved them very much.

Her work at the hospital gave her satisfaction, and for this she was grateful, but it was not enough. Her sense of isolation, of not belonging to anyone, or more precisely
of not being part of a family, and her dreadful loneliness, all contributed to the aridness of her life. Sometimes she found it unbearable, despite her treasured friendship with the devoted Gwen.

Audra stood up, then cast her gaze to the other side of the river.

The light had changed in the last few hours and High Cleugh now looked as if it had been built from polished bronze stones. It was bathed in a golden glow, appeared to shimmer like a mirage in the distance, and even the gardens had a burnished sheen in the rosy sunset. All of her life thus far, at least the best, the happiest parts of it, and her dearest memories, were bound up with that old house. A rush of feeling swept over Audra and she suddenly knew that she would never cease to yearn for High Cleugh and all the things it represented.

Here they were, sitting in the Copper Kettle in Harrogate. She and Gwen.

Audra could hardly believe they were finally meeting after all these weeks. The two girls had not seen each other since the beginning of June. On this hot and muggy Saturday it was already the end of August, the end of the summer, and the first time Gwen had been able to travel from Horsforth for a visit with her best friend.

Even so, Gwen had not been able to make it as far as Ripon, and in her letter she had asked Audra to meet her half-way. Audra had agreed to this request immediately, and had sent off a note by return post.

Now, flushed with happiness, Audra looked across the table and broke into a smile. ‘It’s lovely to see you, Gwen. I’ve really missed you.’

‘So have I—missed you, I mean.’ Gwen’s cherubic face, covered with freckles and vividly alive, was filled with laughter; it signalled her own pleasure at their reunion. ‘I still feel ever so
awful
about not being able to spend your birthday with you—’ Gwen broke off, reached down for the fabric shopping bag at her feet and proceeded to rummage around in it. She pulled out a package wrapped in royal blue paper and tied with scarlet ribbon.

With a flourish and a little grin, Gwen handed it across the table to Audra. ‘Anyway, this is your birthday present,
lovey. I never did get to take you to one of the fancy tea dances at the Arcadian Rooms, so here, I bought you something instead.’

‘You didn’t have to, you shouldn’t have!’ Audra protested, but it was easy to see she was thrilled to receive the gift. It had been a long time since she had been given a present, and there had been nothing on her birthday. Her face lit up and her bright blue eyes danced as she tore off the ribbon and paper with the excitement of a small child.

‘Oh Gwen!
A paintbox
!’ Audra looked up and beamed at the other girl. ‘How lovely. And how clever of you. I really needed a new one. Thank you so much.’ She reached out and took hold of Gwen’s hand lying on the table and squeezed it affectionately.

It was Gwen’s turn to look pleased. ‘I wracked my brains, trying to think of something… something… well,
just right
. You being ever so particular as you are. As it happened, I was looking at that watercolour you painted for my mother last Christmas… the tree reflected in the pond, and it suddenly occurred to me. The paintbox, I mean. I thought to myself, that’s exactly the thing for Audra. It’ll appeal to her practical side, but it’ll give her pleasure as well.’

Gwen sat back and wrinkled her pert, very freckled nose. Her gaze did not leave Audra’s face as she asked, ‘It will, won’t it?’

‘Oh yes, Gwen, lots and lots of pleasure.’ Audra’s smile widened. Then she lifted the shiny black lid of the paintbox and looked inside at the small blocks of bright colour. She repeated some of the familiar names under her breath:
Chrome yellow… rose madder… cobalt blue… jade green… burnt sienna… crimson lake… Saxe blue… royal purple… burnt umber… Malaga red
.
Audra loved the sound of the names almost as much as she loved to paint.

It had been her favourite pastime since her childhood. Her father had been a gifted artist and his paintings had sold fairly well, but then he had fallen gravely ill just as he was becoming known. Adrian Kenton had not really had a chance to make a name for himself before he had died. She had inherited his talent—or so her mother had always told her.

Audra closed the lid of the paintbox and raised her eyes to meet Gwen’s soft hazel-amber gaze. How pretty she looks, Audra thought, so blonde and golden from the sun. Gwen’s fair colouring and her flaxen hair, cut short in a halo of curls around her head, added to the angelic impression she gave; so did the pale blue frock with its big white Quaker collar, which she had chosen to wear today. She reminds me of a sweet young choirboy, Audra thought, and smiled at this analogy. With her beautiful bosom and lovely figure, there was nothing very boyish about Gwen Thornton.

Audra noticed that for once Gwen looked very restrained. Usually she glowed and glittered with all kinds of jewellery: necklaces and beads, earrings and bangles and rings. Obviously she had made a big effort to be both understated and dignified for this trip to Harrogate. She wants to please me, Audra decided, and her warm feelings for Gwen soared.

Leaning forward, Audra said, ‘I’m going to paint a very special picture for you, Gwenny. For your room at home. Would you like a scene—the kind I did for your mother? Or a still life, such as a bowl of flowers? Oh, I
know
what I’ll paint for you. The Valley Gardens here in Harrogate. You’ve always said that’s your favourite spot when all the flowers are in bloom. Would you like that?’

‘Yes, that’d be ever so nice. Thanks very much, Audra. I’d treasure one of your paintings—Mum says they’re masterpieces. The Valley Gardens would look lovely on my wall. So I’d—’

‘Can I take your order, miss?’ the waitress interrupted rather peremptorily. She looked first at Gwen, then at Audra, her pencil poised impatiently above her pad.

‘We’d like to have tea,’ Audra said pleasantly, ignoring her huffy manner and angry stance. ‘For two, please.’

‘A pot? Or the set tea?’ the waitress asked in the same snippy tone and licked the end of her pencil.

Gwen said, ‘You oughtn’t to do that. I hope that pencil’s not indelible. You’ll get a purple tongue, and probably lead poisoning.’

‘Get on with you, I won’t get no such thing!’ the waitress scoffed disbelievingly, then gave the two of them a worried glance. ‘Will I?’ she muttered and carefully examined the tip of her pencil. ‘Oooh bloomin’ heck! It
is
indelible.’

Gwen nodded solemnly. ‘I thought it would be. You’d better go and see a doctor immediately if you develop peculiar symptoms tonight, especially if they’re at all like convulsions.’

‘
Convulsions!
’ the waitress repeated in a shrill voice and turned as white as her apron. ‘Are you having me on, like?’

Audra, taking pity on the young woman, said, ‘No, we’re not. We’re nurses and we know about these things. But I’m sure you won’t get lead poisoning from licking that pencil a few times. My friend tends to be a bit of an alarmist.’

The waitress, appearing slightly relieved, nodded her head. ‘I wouldn’t want to be getting poorly…’

‘You’ll be perfectly all right,’ Audra reassured, and
went on briskly, ‘Now about our order, I think we’d better have the
set
tea. I suppose that means it includes everything… sandwiches, scones, jam, clotted cream, cakes—all of the usual things?’

‘Yes,’ the waitress said laconically. She brought the pencil up to her mouth, then dropped her hand quickly. She scribbled on her pad and edged away from their table.

When she was out of earshot, Audra stared at the merry-faced Gwen and shook her head a bit reprovingly. However, she could not help grinning at Gwen’s gleeful expression. ‘You’re incorrigible, Miss Thornton. And that really
was
a little mean of you. Why, you’ve gone and ruined that poor young woman’s day.’

‘I jolly well hope I have!’ Gwen cried with a show of indignation. ‘She’s a right tartar, that one, Audra.’

‘Perhaps she has bad feet—or a bad love life.’

‘I don’t know what she’s got. Yes, I do—a nasty manner, that’s a certainty. I remember
her
from past experience. Oh yes I do, very well, Audra. She’s always snotty-nosed with the customers, especially the older folk. I noticed her giving that grey-haired lady over there a hard time before you arrived. So it
does
serve her right.’

‘I suppose it does,’ Audra agreed. Like Gwen, she loathed unkindness, the small unnecessary cruelties inflicted on the weak by the strong. Besides, the waitress had been extremely short with them, to the point of rudeness.

There was a small silence, and then Audra reached for her handbag, took out some coins and placed them on the table in front of Gwen. ‘Before I forget, this is what I owe you. The one and six I borrowed when I bought the blue dress.’

Gwen was about to say it didn’t matter, to refuse the coins, then she thought better of it. Audra was very proud
and she would be insulted; she might even take umbrage and that Gwen could not bear. And so she picked up the money and said, ‘Thanks very much, lovey.’

‘I
am
glad your mother has recovered her health at long last,’ Audra said with genuine feeling. ‘I know these last few months have been very worrying for you, and such hard work as well.’

Gwen let out a tiny sigh. ‘Yes, Mum’s out of the woods, thank goodness. But I don’t mind telling you, she’s been a trying patient, Audra. Hard to keep in bed. The minute she felt stronger she wanted to be up and about.’ Gwen pursed her lips and sighed again. ‘Well, you know what Mum’s like, a typical Yorkshire-woman, very tough, who believes it’s a crime to be ill. My father has finally convinced her she must take it easy, so that’s all right then. But listen, Audra, enough of this… tell me
your
news. You didn’t say much in your letters, except for boring bits and pieces about the
boring
hospital.’

‘There wasn’t anything special to tell,’ Audra replied, amused at the eager and expectant expression which had suddenly appeared on Gwen’s dimpled face. ‘Certainly nothing startling. It hasn’t taken
you
very long to forget that Ripon’s a sleepy old backwater, not a great big metropolis like Leeds.’

Gwen giggled. ‘’Course I haven’t forgotten, silly. But what I meant was how’re your brothers? What’ve you heard recently?’

‘Frederick’s health has seemingly improved—at long last. At least, so William wrote and told me. I was very upset with them both in June, though.’ Audra’s face changed slightly and the light in her eyes dulled. ‘I thought they had forgotten all about me… and my birthday, but then their card finally did arrive… two weeks late.’

‘That’s brothers for you, Audra, they’re a bit daft at times,’ Gwen said swiftly, wanting to make her friend feel better. It struck her once more how sad Audra’s nineteenth birthday had been. She vowed to make it up to her on her birthday next year.

Audra said, ‘Anyway, how are your brothers?’

‘In top form. Jem’s got himself a job as a copy boy on the
Leeds Mercury
, Harry’s going to be apprenticed to one of the leading architects in Leeds, and our Charlie’s flying high, feeling very chuffed with himself.’ A huge grin spread across Gwen’s face.

Audra looked at her curiously. ‘Why is Charlie so pleased?’

‘Because he got
very
high marks in his exams, Audra. Dad’s really proud of him, and so am I. Anyway, old Charlie can’t wait to get back to medical school now that the summer hols are just about over. Oh, and that reminds me, he asked to be remembered to you.’ Gwen’s eyes took on a wicked twinkle and she brought her fair head closer to Audra’s, whispered in a conspiratorial manner, ‘As I keep telling you, I think our Charlie really fancies you, Audra. And quite a bit, at that.’

Audra blushed furiously. ‘Don’t be so silly, Gwen, of course he doesn’t.’

‘He does too! He’s always asking questions about you!’ Gwen shot back with unprecedented fierceness, giving her friend a stern glare. ‘He’s
definitely
interested in you, I just know he is.’

‘Oh,’ was the only thing Audra could think of to say, feeling flustered all of a sudden.

‘Well, you could do worse, you know.’

‘Yes,’ Audra murmured, and then clamped her mouth shut as the waitress hove in view.

Much to Audra’s relief the young woman headed
straight for their table, carrying a laden tray. She began to unload the tea things with a great deal of fuss and clattering, and this curtailed their conversation for a few moments. Gwen threw Audra a disgusted look and made a face, indicating her disapproval of the noisy waitress, who seemed hell bent on irritating them.

Audra bit back a smile and glanced away. Once the waitress had departed, she picked up the large brown pot and began to pour tea into Gwen’s cup, remarking, ‘I suppose I could say
she
’s just had the last word.’

‘Oh no she hasn’t, not by a long shot,’ Gwen said with a sly little smile. ‘Wait until it’s time for her tip.’

Gwen Thornton was a sweet affectionate girl, open hearted and generous of nature, and she genuinely cared for Audra Kenton.

From the first moment she had met her, Gwen had been drawn to Audra. She had recognized there was something very special about the small, delicate-looking girl with the extraordinary blue eyes and the shy smile that could dazzle at times.

Gwen had quickly come to understand what it actually was that made Audra stand out in a crowd. It was her background and upbringing. Coming from an ordinary, though solid, middle-class family as she did, Gwen knew that Audra’s air of breeding was downright impossible to imitate. You either had it or you didn’t. It simply could not be acquired. And it not only gave Audra distinction, but explained her aristocratic aloofness, her manners and her self-assurance, which were bred in the bone.