Doubting Abbey (21 page)
Lady C’s cheeks tinged pink, matching her pastel rose blouse. ‘Neither Abbey nor I relish misleading people, but I understand my niece’s plight. You see…My parents were terribly strict and…’
My eyebrows raised.
‘I became fond of a young man in my twenties. He worked in a shoe shop. Papa didn’t approve and forbade us from courting. I cried for weeks.’ Her voice broke. ‘In private, of course—in public, one must never let one’s dignity slip.’
‘That must have been hard,’ I said, feeling bad now for asking. I leant over and squeezed her arm.
‘I never met anyone else quite like John and instead dedicated my life to the finishing school,’ continued Lady C. ‘That was rewarding in its own way, but if Abigail is anything like me, spinsterhood… It can get very lonely. So, if I can help resolve this situation with Zachary…’
A lump formed in my throat. Her eyes were all shiny.
At that moment the door opened and the Earl and Edward came in, followed by the cameraman, the soundman, Gaynor and Roxy. The director flicked her Jessie J bob. I removed my hand from Lady C’s arm.
‘Visitors – fab, darlings!’ said Gaynor, smelling of smoke as usual. The cameraman positioned some lights. Outside, the sky was becoming increasingly dark. ‘Kathleen has made tea for you all to enjoy. This is unexpected footage we can edit into tomorrow night’s show. Is this a relative of yours, Miss Croxley?’
‘Um, yes. Excuse my manners,’ I said and stood up with Lady C. ‘Allow me to introduce my dear aunt, Lady Constance Woodfold. Auntie – this is Gaynor, the director and her assistant, Roxy. And please meet Lord Croxley and his son, Lord Edward.’ Urgh. I should have probably introduced the titled before the TV crew.
Roxy sidled up and brushed a strand of hair out of my face. ‘Make it interesting,’ she whispered. ‘Marwick Castle is hosting a murder mystery banquet tonight for the corporate guests. You’ll have to work hard to beat that.’
While Lady C shook everyone’s hands, I winked.
‘How lovely to meet you, Lord Croxley,’ she said in a honeyed voice, revealing none of her previous inner turmoil. ‘Please forgive my unexpected arrival, but I was staying in the area and thought I would call in to see my niece before returning home tonight. I do hope I haven’t inconvenienced you.’
‘Not at all,’ said the Earl gruffly.
‘It’s a pleasure to meet more of the family,’ said Edward in his usual unemotional voice.
That had been the great thing about last night, by the pond – he’d shouted, laughed, pitched his tones high and low… For the first time his voice had sounded alive.
We all sat down, the Earl and Lady C together on a ruby-red sofa, facing the front window. There was a polite silence. Roxy looked at me and rolled her eyes. Okay – must liven things up.
‘I, um, was just about to tell my aunt details of my plan to…’
Her eyebrows shot up in horror and I suppressed a giggle. Maybe she thought I was going to come clean about my fake romance with Nick. Okay, I shouldn’t really find that funny.
‘… about my plan to organize a very special reunion on Saturday.’ I smiled at Lady C. ‘Applebridge Hall was home to evacuees during the war and we intend to bring them together after almost seventy years apart.’
Blimey. That made Roxy stop chewing her gum and Gaynor looked up from her notes.
‘What a truly wonderful idea,’ said Lady C. ‘My family is still in touch with the girl who came to stay with us in autumn 1940, just at the beginning of the Blitz. Vera Watkins. She’s about six years older than me. I was only five when the war ended, so I don’t remember her early years with us—but she had a lovely voice. I’ll never forget how she always used to sing her mother’s favourite song,
The Lambeth Walk
.’
‘Did her parents survive?’ asked the Earl as the sound guy adjusted the boom.
‘Ironically, she lost her mother in the bombing and her father returned from the war without a scratch—not of the physical kind, anyway. Vera grew up to marry a plumber, had three children and now lives in Wales. Until she developed arthritis, I used to meet up with her every few years in Oxford Street, for shopping and lunch. Have you kept in touch with any of the children who stayed here, Lord Croxley?’
The Earl shook his head. ‘Would be good to meet some of the old chaps again, though – to see how they’ve spent the intervening years. For several Christmases, some sent Mama cards. One family even visited. The mother wanted to thank us, in person, for looking after their son. Alfie, I seem to recall he was called.’
‘It must have felt rather odd, sharing your home with strangers,’ I said.
‘What, like now?’ said the Earl and gave a wry smile. He fiddled with his pocket watch. ‘It never crossed my mind to complain, as Mama drilled into us that Dickie and I were very fortunate living how and where we did. I remember sitting in lessons with the children, Mrs Raynor reading
Huckleberry Finn
. We’d all moan about our ‘pudding basin’ haircuts and go picking wild blackberries on the outskirts of the forest in autumn. One had to get on with life and, for us youngsters, it could be immense fun. Sorry things they were, on arrival, though, the children – labelled like parcels and carrying gas masks.’
Yay! Gaynor and Roxy were still rapt. War stories were a far cry from Marwick Castle’s tacky flashes of boobs. Maybe, just maybe, this reunion would give Applebridge Hall’s chances a much-needed boost.
Lady C nodded. ‘Vera says now that she spent many a night, those first few months, crying herself to sleep. It still brings tears to her eyes if we talk about the moment she waved goodbye to her mother at Waterloo Station. In fact my mother used to well up when she recalled the look of apprehension on little Vera’s face when the Billeting Officer dropped her off at our house.’ She looked into the distance. ‘In our village, the girls had an easier time of it, though—there was a lot of rivalry between the local lads and evacuee boys. Then there was Vera’s cousin, sent to a family who stole his rations and fed him on nothing but bread and water…’ She cleared her throat. ‘However, I suspect children who stayed here will have pleasant memories. Remember dried eggs, Lord Croxley?’
‘How could I forget?’ He smiled. ‘Perhaps, Lady Woodfold…Would you care to stay to dinner?’
‘How exceptionally kind of you,’ she said, ‘but, I, um, wouldn’t want to impose…’
‘Stuff and nonsense,’ he said. ‘In fact, why don’t you stay for a few days? We converted the nursery next to Abigail’s room into a guest room many years ago. There’s still the big rocking horse in there, but it has a pleasant view of the orchards. And I’m sure we’ll need all the help we can get, arranging this reunion. Edward, please ask Kathleen to prepare the room.’
Edward’s jaw dropped. Mine, too. As a rule, I’m sure the Earl didn’t like unexpected, unfamiliar guests.
‘Of course, Father.’ Edward stood up, just as Kathleen walked in with more tea. ‘But, first things first – Abbey wanted me to show her the bedrooms upstairs that used to belong to the children. We haven’t searched through all that gubbins for years. If this reunion is to take place, we need to crack on.’
Suddenly, Lady C jumped to her feet and almost headed the boom – she had a lot to learn about filming a reality show.
‘Goodness me!’ she said. ‘Is that a common yellowthroat I saw on the fountain outside? What a treat.’
The Earl stood up beside her. ‘Well, I bless! You recognize a yellowthroat? Bravo! So few people nowadays take an interest in our country’s immensely varied birdlife. As you probably know, that species is a rarity. We must go out with my binoculars some time and…’
With a nod at Roxy, Edward and I exited the room, leaving Kathleen to serve tea to Abbey’s excited uncle and aunt.
‘Hold on!’ called Gaynor, fag already in her lips. She sidled up to us. ‘A bang-on concept this reunion is, Lord Edward – well done.’
‘Actually, it was my cousin’s idea,’ he said, and ran a hand through his honey curls, but the director wasn’t listening.
‘Mics, Roxy!’ she hissed at her assistant, who’d just appeared by her side.
Roxy rummaged in a bag she was carrying.
‘We’ll send the cameraman up when he’s finished filming your father,’ Gaynor said to Edward, still ignoring me. ‘Delving into the past, the evacuees’ dorms… I’m sure you’ll agree that’s just too good to miss.’
Taking her time as usual, with her hands on his chest, the director fitted Edward up with his mic while Roxy put on mine. Then Edward and I climbed the staircase, up to the Long Gallery. I hadn’t been there since the Earl gave me a tour. The buckets placed to catch raindrops were still empty, thanks to the warm spell.
Edward stopped outside a bedroom, opposite the portrait of the glamorous couple known for partying – the Earl’s great-grandparents—while I thought about Lady C. She must have been mega chuffed to land an invite to hang around for a few days, and keep an eye on me and Nick. Edward pointed to his battery pack, clipped onto his waist, and pulled out the mic lead. I followed suit.
‘No need for them to hear our every word,’ he muttered, ‘until the cameraman arrives.’
I nodded and glanced out of a window on the other side and gazed down at the maze. Talk of the devil—Nick was working late, busy shaping it an with electric trimmer, no doubt hoping to avoid the imminent rain. The little avenues looked sharper and more defined. No doubt Croxley kids had played hide and seek in it over the centuries. He stood up and stretched and I smiled at the sight of his cheeky face. Yes, the gardener was a relief from the stodgy Croxleys but…I swallowed hard. How I’d felt with my arm around Edward… Who could make sense of that?
I turned back around and followed Edward into the bedroom. He’d switched on the light, which was just a glaring bulb with no lampshade.
‘It looks as if no one has touched this room since the war,’ I said.
Edward shrugged. ‘They haven’t really – only once when we had the whole of this top floor rewired.’
The room was big and full of clutter, with dismantled shelves against the walls and nuts and bolts scattered across the floor. It smelt of books that had been left in the loft too long. On each side were two pairs of bunk beds, so eight children had slept here. Cardboard boxes were stacked against the beds and on them. I crouched down and lifted the lid of one. On top of a pile of toys was a doll wearing a dusty bonnet and stained dress.
‘Look at this,’ I said, voice all mushy, and held it up. ‘Talk about antique. With those choochy cheeks and rosebud lips, its face is quite beautiful.’ I lifted up a knitted toy. ‘Hey Teddy, this looks like a teddy!’
But there was no humour in Edward’s eyes or even a scowl for me using his pet name. He simply stared, before heading for the door.
‘Back in a minute. I’m just getting the laptop. It might be good to search online and familiarize myself with background knowledge about wartime evacuees, so that I can show some genuine knowledge on screen.’
‘Ever the honest, conscientious one, aren’t you,’ I said in a teasing voice, probably sounding more Gemma than Abbey.
He stared at me for a moment and his eyes narrowed. ‘Whenever possible. Someone has to be. In fact you can drop the pretence. Don’t you think I’ve guessed your little secret?’
My mouth went dry.
‘It’s become clear, since Lady Constance has arrived. Perhaps, when I return, you’ll do the right thing and come clean.’
He left me in the room, my heart racing.
LORD EDWARD’S E-DIARY
Wednesday 5
th
September
Comments
7.30p.m.
I’ve just bobbed back to the Parlour to pick up my laptop and noticed some responses already to my poser question. Thank you, all, for your continued participation.
Cupcakesrock
, so, you think we’re hosting a demonstration of Second World War meals? How interesting that your grandmother used to make carrot cakes during the war called Beady Buns—because they helped people see during blackouts.
Historybuff
, I agree, a reunion of the evacuees, incorporating subsequent personal stories, would be a fascinating social documentation of life in post-war Britain.
bustyfanDownton
, nice to see you back, even if it is just to tell us we don’t stand a chance against Marwick Castle – unless we scrub all current ideas and declare Applebridge Hall a naturist destination. Hmm. I have a rather awkward image in my head now, thanks to your suggestion of us playing naked Twister
…
‘So?’ said Edward, now finally back from the Parlour.
‘Um…’
‘For goodness’ sake, woman!’
At least he no longer considered me some juvenile little girl.
‘I’ve worked it out! Lady Constance is taking you home. No doubt you’re still upset after I suggested you abandon ship.’
I breathed a sigh of relief. Wow. For a while there, I thought my disguise had been rumbled.
‘Are you still determined to see the worst in me, Edward?’ I said eventually. ‘To doubt my convictions, my abilities, my every move…? What about that half-glass full?’
‘So, Lady Constance just
happened
to be in the area?’
‘Yes,’ I said firmly, although it was rather a coincidence.
We gazed into each other’s eyes for a moment. His shoulders relaxed.
‘Okay. Fair enough. Apologies, then, Abbey. Although, if you ever felt… I’d understand your departure, if you weren’t happy or found this reality show experience difficult to endure. Only this morning, on the phone, Henrietta pointed out how much of a challenge this fortnight must be for you. Father and I aren’t always the, erm, easiest people to live with.’
‘You don’t say?’ My mouth upturned. ‘Look—you aren’t on your own any more, Edward. I’m here to help you and Uncle—to see this thing through.’
His eyes crinkled at the corners and in that moment I longed to wrap my arms round him; to see another glimpse of the carefree Edward who’d swum with me last night in the pond.
‘You and Henrietta are good friends, aren’t you?’ I asked.
