Authors: Dodie Hamilton
Julia crossed her fingers. ‘I’m not expecting anything.’
‘I’m sure it will be wonderful. It’s a pity I shan’t be here to see it.’
‘Oh Callie!’
‘I’m sorry it’s one of those unfortunate clashes. I arranged to visit a friend in Berkshire and can’t break a promise. You’ll be fine. I’m sure the world and his wife will come, downright nosiness will fetch ‘em.’ Callie picked up a tea-cup. ‘This is rather lovely. Is it from the set your German doctor donated?’
‘It is. I thought to use it on Saturday.’
‘Beautiful! If it were mine I’m not sure I’d want strangers touching it.’
‘Possibly not but it was given for that purpose.’
‘So it was not so much a gift to you as for the business.’
‘It was meant as a gift but also for the tea-shop.’
‘I see! The Doctor is your business partner! That is some partner to have. I’m currently transferring my sickly heart to him. I heard from Dulce, who heard from one another, that he waits upon Her Majesty, who of course is very ill.’
‘I’m sure everyone is anxious.’
‘I doubt Bertie is. All these years and the throne in sight I imagine he’s champing at the bit.’ Callie picked up a cake stand. ‘This is exquisite. I have Meissen but nothing as good as this. Does his family know you have it?’
‘I believe Frau Adelmann knows.’
‘And she’s happy?’
‘I don’t know her feelings on the matter. They haven’t been relayed to me however I am to visit her next week. I’ll ask then.’
‘You go to see her in the sanatorium?’
Julia chose not to answer.
Callie wandered about the parlour and then pitched in again. ‘Daniel’s busy. A publisher has shown interest in his book and so he’s all the while scribbling.’
‘He’s writing a book?’
‘Yes some blurb about the painter Georges Seurat.’
‘I’m not familiar with his work.’
‘No one is. It won’t sell. Daniel’s another Johnny Sargent, forever backing lame horses. But you can’t tell him that, always right he’s so sure of his opinions. I have to tell you there is a pernickety side to my son that does not suit. Fastidious in dress and habits he expects everyone else to be the same.’
‘I hadn’t noticed that.’
‘I didn’t imagine you had. It’s a thing only a mother would see but it’s there and the older he gets the worse it gets. I say to you as I say to Dulce, keep your clay feet well inside your slippers. You don’t want Danny seeing them. By the way he’s another who’ll miss the opening. The news agency wants him.’
‘That is a shame.’
Callie swung the cake-stand back and forth. ‘Yes, isn’t it.’
Disappointed Julia looked away. Callie no more regretted Daniel’s absence than she did her own. Her lack of interest in the tea-shop is evident in the casual handling of priceless china. She doesn’t want the tea-shop to succeed. Why would she? She hates the cottage and all those that live there.
Julia took the cake-stand and set it down.
‘Why so jumpy?’ said Callie with a smile. ‘Did you think I’d drop it?’
‘Of course not! Why would you?’
Callie picked up her gloves. ‘Why indeed.’
Daniel called. ‘I’m sorry I shan’t be here Saturday. I wanted to but I’m called away. It’ll be okay,’ he said.
He was not at all sure it would be okay now that Callie had bailed out. She’d offered some excuse about visiting a friend. Daniel was livid. ‘What do you mean you can’t attend? You must go! You’re old Lansdowne a monitor of all that is in and out. You being there with Julianna will sanction the enterprise.’
Callie had procrastinated. Daniel has known his mother long enough to know her in a lie. ‘An don’t tell me you’re visiting a friend! It’s you harping on that old business and letting a good neighbour down.’
‘I don’t want to be there,’ was the best she’d come up with. ‘I don’t want to step inside the door never mind take tea. The only way I managed last time was out on the terrace. It makes me physically sick to be there.’
‘That’s the past! It’s nothing to do with now...at least I’m hoping it’s that and not you interfering with me and my wants, because if you are, if what you’re really doing is getting between me and Julianna, then we have a problem.’
‘It’s not about her!’ Callie had tossed her head. ‘I’ve nothing against the girl. I like her. She’s my kind of person, though as your mother I have to say you could do a lot better than a widow with dubious connections.’
‘Dubious connections?’
‘Lady Evelyn Carrington! What’s a parson’s daughter doing with such a person? I’ve been in the country less than a year and gossip about that woman is all I hear. And not only her, her brother, the Honourable Freddie, though from what I hear he’s anything but honourable! They’re saying downstairs he’s one of them strange boys who doesn’t know whether he’s a duck or a drake. I found him very odd. He was talking nonsense at the Art Festival about how he’s going to be Matthew’s Pappy. I wouldn’t let him near a child of mine.’
‘Forget Freddie Carrington! He was crazy before he was born. They have a lot of society friends. Frances likes them. They dine at the Castle. And John Sargent won’t have a word said against them.’
‘Frances Warwick is dominated by Daisy. She calls the shots in that relationship. As for John he’s an artist and closes his eyes to lots of peculiar goings on. It’s not just the Carringtons. It’s Stefan Adelman. What’s going on with him and Julianna?’
‘I don’t know that anything is going on. As far as I can tell Stefan Adelmann is a decent fellow with a difficult domestic situation. Julianna is no more responsible for the madness in Freddie’s head than the suffering in another.’
‘I don’t want you to suffer.’
‘I will if you interfere. You know how I feel. I’ve made no secret of it. I’m relying on you to support me through this not undermine.’
‘It’s this house. I thought I could make it better but I can’t.’
They wrangled most of the day. Now he’s here where his mother was and there’s doubt in Julianna’s eyes where doubt didn’t use to be.
‘Don’t worry about Saturday, Julianna,’ he said. ‘People will step up to the plate, you see.’
‘I hope they do. Thank you for organising a telephone. ’
‘I was glad to do it. If you have trouble late at night with prowlers a telephone is essential. Oh hello, young fellow!’
As though aware of his mother’s unease Matty appeared. He stood a while and then ran away. Daniel grimaced. ‘I guess he’s still unhappy with me. Pity, I had hoped we could be friends.’
‘I’m sorry,’ said Julia. ‘I’ll have a word with him later.’
‘Don’t! He can’t help the way he feels and pressure will only make it worse. Let him get used to the idea of me being around. Better yet..,’ Daniel took her hand pressed it to his lips. ‘You get used the idea.’
The cabbie was whipping up the horse when the boy raced out the house, the dog with him, and panting held out the toy soldier that a while ago was tossed in the river. ‘Is this for me?’
Matty nodded.
‘Thank you,’ Daniel placed it on the seat beside him. ‘I’ll take him with me to South Africa and next time I’m here he can tell you of our travels.’
Matty smiled.
Julia was woken in the night by Kaiser barking. Pulling on her robe she ran downstairs. Maud and Leah stood on the landing their hair in curling rags.
‘Don’t come down, Maud! Stay with Matty. I’ll check the doors.’
‘Do you think you should, madam?’
‘I’m alright. I have Kaiser.’ Julia took the lamp and went to the window. The mist was so thick she couldn’t see beyond it. Mist dampening sound she opened the door and stood listening. A door creaked and Kaiser raced away.
Lamp held high Julia ran along the terrace. ‘Go away, whoever you are!’ she shouted. ‘I’ll call the constable!’There was a scrambling noise and then silence and Kaiser leaning against her knee hackles stiff but no longer snarling.
Next morning Joe Carmody went for the constable. ‘The constable nodded. ‘Yours is not the first house to be bothered. Lower Bakers had a similar thing. It’s the telephone installation, thieves after the cable.’
‘You think it opportunists and not a personal thing?’
‘Why would it be personal, ma’m?’
‘Someone has been here before at night, panes of glass broken in the greenhouse and the back door was tried.’
‘No I reckon this is about opportunity. Folks move, things are up and down, and layabouts come sniffing. Did you find any damage?’
‘Not that I could tell. It was dark. I wasn’t going to press too closely.’
‘Quite right too. When in doubt lock the door. ‘The constable put away his note-book. ‘I’ve had a look round and you seem secure enough. What d’you store out there in those sheds?’
‘Only wash tubs and coal and wood.’
‘Well then you’re probably safe. It’s a rare burglar that steals coal, though the price of things nowadays you never know.’ The constable nodded. ‘I’ll be on my way, ma’m. Perhaps Mr Carmody would see me out.’
‘Well?’ Joe saw him to the edge of the yard. ‘Did you see it?’
‘I saw fag ends stubbed out on the floor if that’s what you mean.’
‘There ain’t just fag ends there’s a cigar butt. Now what’s a cigar butt doing there? Is there more than one bloke hangin’ about?’
The constable shrugged. ‘I don’t know.’
‘Did you say anythin’ to the missis?’
‘I couldn’t see the point. It would only frighten her and we don’t know how long the fag ends have been here. They might’ve been there years.’
‘No they ain’t!’ Joe protested. ‘Why would I be tellin’ you if it was old stuff? I cleared up the last lot. This is some bloke, or blokes, spyin’ on my lady.’
The constable shrugged. ‘You may be right but there’s nowt I can do. Keep an eye on things, Joe. Give me the nod if you’re unhappy.’
Joe stomped back to the greenhouse. ‘I’ll keep my eye on things alreet but I’ll never be happy,’ he muttered. ‘Not while that bloody wall is standin’.’
Late Friday evening Julia went though the box. Forty years Owen Passmore walked the earth. He left little of personal value his son being his greatest contribution. Matty earlier climbed on her knee. She didn’t scold. That he knew he’d been naughty was enough. ‘I want my own Papa,’ he sobbed. ‘Please, Mumma, give him back to me. I want him continuing with us and not with angels in heaven.’
‘Continuing? What do you mean, darling?’
He didn’t know what he meant. The dog, dear creature, mourned with them, head on her knee. Matty cried himself to sleep. Julia stayed awhile but then knowing tomorrow busy came to the box. Why keep it? There were good boots but the wrong size for Ben. There’s a corduroy jacket with patched elbows and heavy raincoat that might do. Beyond that, his wedding ring buried with him, it was oddments, books and a pair of gold cufflinks.
The cufflinks belonged to Uncle William, the Flower-Finder. Coincidental that Julia should live in a house once occupied by flower-gatherers. With Uncle William it was a hobby. A diary found here in the attic speaks more of a crusade. Julia had thought it Justine’s but the initials HLL prove it to belong to Henry Lambeth Lansdowne, a personal log of his travels abroad and the plants he collected. Julia would have given it to Callie but for the inscription on the fly-leaf, ‘
my beautiful Irish Rose
’
Owen kept a diary. It was among items returned from Cairo, the diary, Foreign Office papers, and a lock of Matty’s hair. Last night Julia dreamed she saw Owen. He sat in a chair under the shadow of the Sphinx teaching as he taught when alive, responding in the dream to a question on how the Sphinx’s nose was broken, how soldiers in Napoleon’s army used it for target practice.
Julia stood waiting til the class was finished. Then Owen turned. ‘What is it, my love?’ he said. ‘Do you have a question for me?’ With that she had woken and thought on Matty’s word continuing. Now looking at the diary, the neatly penned entries, dates and times of sun-sets and new moons and the rising and falling of stars, she wished Owen was continuing here so that instead of reading about him she might learn from his lips what kind of man he was and why she misses him so.
When the clock struck twelve Julia didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. There was that so horribly melodramatic about it all. True it is midday rather than midnight even so with the last chime of the clock and not a single customer these three hours surely her dress should be in tatters and Maud, Dorothy and Leah standing motionless by the window should be mice.
What a pity! The N and N looks so inviting, a table in the window laid for high tea, silver glittering and napkins flared. Delicious cakes, chocolate bon-bon and fresh strawberries, jewel red and succulent, against white meringue glace, millefeuille choux buns oozing cream, and sparkling sugared ice marshmallow.
Every hour passed the table display is changed for fresh. Soon all will go to waste but not because of a lack of interest. Scores of would-be patrons pass up and down the street. A Grand Parade of people in their Sunday best jostle for room outside the double bay windows fluttering as the Union-Jack bunting flutters. All would sample the wares but are stopped by an invisible barrier.
A moment ago, eyes round and mouths watering, a couple with a perambulator paused at the window. The baby leant toward the glass as did the husband but afraid of crossing boundaries the young wife turned away.
Maud sighed. ‘Oh madam!’
‘I know.’
‘What shall we do?’
‘We must do what we would do if the place were busy. It’s all we can do. We shall continue to be alert and bright but if by three no one has come through the door I shall turn the sign to closed.’
Matty is in his bedroom and has been all morning. He’s built a tent of blankets over a clothes-horse and hides inside with Kaiser. ‘Are you coming down?’ she asked. When he shook his head Julia didn’t argue. If this blockade continues she may well join him, for now she hides in the garden rubbing a burn on her wrist gained by being overhasty with a treacle sponge. The burn bears witness to folly. How foolish to think they would come. She ought to have read the signs and known a minnow of the wrong colour and tribe can’t expect to swim with the tide; she must fight her way alone.
Five o clock this morning she swept leaves from the lawn and thought how enticing the parlour looked. Yesterday, laughing, Maud and Leah hung flags and balloons from the ivy. Julia watched and in that moment loved them as family. Now they stand with heads high but underneath are broken.
Yesterday evening the telephone rang, Stefan, her first official caller via the shared line. ‘Good evening, Julianna, I hope I do not disturb. I learned you are with telephone and rang to wish you luck. I’d like to be with you but thought it in your best interest to stay away. I send all love as does Karoline.’
Remembering Callie’s questioning Julia asked. ‘Does she really know of me, Stefan? I mean is Karoline aware of this, the tea-shop and our partnership?’
‘She is silent and yet I am certain she knows all and approves all.’
Five minutes to one the door bell jingled.
Mrs Mac came through. ‘We have a customer.’ It was Joe Carmody tightly buttoned up in a go-to-chapel suit, a wisp of grey hair slicked down and boots polished. Cap in hand he hovered inside the door. ‘I’ve come, ma’m.’
‘Good day Mr Carmody. We are pleased to see you. Please take a seat.’
‘Where shall I sit?’
‘How about that table in the nook? It’s my favourite spot and has a view of the side garden and the white roses you trained across the lattice.’
‘As you wish.’ He sat with his cap on his lap.
‘Let me take your cap.’ Julia took an order pad. ‘Now what may I get you?’
Joe screwed up his face. ‘I don’t rightly know. From what I’ve seen and smelt in the kitchen this last week I’d say pretty much anythin’.’
They consulted on choice Julia going through the menu. Then seeing him flustered she smiled. ‘Might the ladies put together a selection of items for you to try, some sweet things and some savoury?’ Thinking about his slender means she added, ‘and of course those you don’t want you leave.’
‘You mean not pay for them like?’
‘Exactly so.’
‘That sounds alreet. As always I’ll be guided by you, ma’m.’
Julia was overcome. God bless the man! He’s come because he thinks no one else will. He’ll sit. He’ll hate every minute but be faithful and loving to the end.
She put her hand on his shoulder. ‘Dorothy, please be especially attentive with Mr Carmody. He is our very dear friend.’
Joe was always going to come. Poor madam, everybody treating her shabby it’s shameful, like pulling the wings off butterflies! He is here and will stay as long as his money and his nerve holds. Nothing was going to keep him away, not Bertha his wife, nobody. Crunched up and uncertain he sits mouthing an egg-custard. Gar! He felt on display, a mannequin in Bentalls Window with fancy weskit and painted smile couldn’t have been gawped at more. Blighters! Look at ‘em staring! They’d love to be in here, fair gagging, but not one of ‘em has the courage to stand up for his feelings. This custard tart is tasty but bound to give him indigestion as Bertha was quick to point out. ‘Where you going, Joseph Carmody, all dressed up like that and havin’ takin’ a bath?’ she’d asked.
‘I’m goin’ to the cafe openin’ in town.’
‘Why are you going there,’ she says. ‘That’s not for the likes of us. ‘
‘Maybe not but I’m goin’,’
The doorbell chimed. A gentleman doffed his hat, a handsome chap in a white shirt and pinstriped suit. ‘Hello, Joe. May I join you?’
Joe looked up. It was Luke Roberts! ‘Nay I didn’t recognise you, lad, all spiffed up like that. Aye, come sit down and welcome.’
Dottie Manners who lives in the village took Luke’s order, her cheeks pink and his more so. The menu was cakes and sweet stuff. What he really wanted was a slice of the steak and ale pie currently being served at the Nelson, preferably with a pint of Pipers best bitter, but for now he’ll settle for a slice of strawberry tart and the gratitude in his darling’s eyes.
‘Good day, Mr Roberts.’ Now she’s here her mouth a smudged peony.
‘Mrs Dryden.’ Luke got to his feet. It’s likely as a customer he ought to stay put but no man is able to sit when Julianna Dryden speaks his name.
‘I am so pleased to see you. Are you keeping well?’
‘Thank you I am.’
‘And your mother?’
‘She’s well.’
‘Do give her my best wishes.’
‘I will.’
‘Dorothy will take your order. If what you would most like to try is not on the menu please say. We shall endeavour to provide it.’
Knees shaking Luke sat. He stared at the hand-printed card but could only see her mouth and the burn on her wrist. Joe leaned close. ‘Is it on the menu, lad?’
‘What?’
‘The thing you’d most like to try?’
‘No it’s not,’ Luke sighed, ‘and never likely to be.’
The strawberry tart arrived and was good but Luke couldn’t eat it. He was so anxious he could barely breathe. Up before dawn he was this morning getting jobs done so to be here on time. Then a trip to the barber and back to the Nelson for a bath and the new pinstriped suit, his mother’s eyes red hot coals on his back.
‘You’re dressed up for it, aren’t you?’ she says.
‘You want me to go in my boots and with my hair all easy?’ he replies.
‘I don’t want you to go at all.’
‘Too bad. I’m going.’
‘Nobody else will be there!’
‘There’ll be somebody there,’ says he grimly, ‘and you’ll be one of them.’
‘I’m not goin’,’ she argues.
‘Yes you are! I’ve seen your best blue dress on the bed and that feathered hat. I know well you intend to go.’
‘They’re out for cleanin’,’ says she.
‘Don’t talk daft! You put them out to wear, Nan Roberts! I see it in your face. You can’t bear the idea of her left standing alone.’
Nan had tossed her head. ‘I may go and I may not. I haven’t made up my mind. But if I do it’s not about her, silly girl that she is! It’s more about not lettin’ Aggie Simpkin and her chapel friends rule the roost.’
‘Whatever the reason, go, and you and me will be better friends for it.’
She’ll come, Luke knows she will. Nan Roberts is a fair and honest woman and knows Bakers End is doing wrong.
The clock ticked and still only the two of them. Even Matty hasn’t made a showing, a weather barometer that child knows when a storm is brewing.
Luke looked at his watch.
Joe stared. ‘Why are you lookin’ at your watch, you expectin’ somebody?’
You bet your life he is expecting somebody though not so much expecting as hoping a prayer brought to the ear of a fickle Society Lady will be heard.
Two o clock she said she’d be here. It’s quarter to. Of course Lady Evelyn Carrington doesn’t have to come. Only a promise binds them, she to bring her name and influence to the opening of the Tea-Shop, and Luke to bring himself to her house in London. The deal, a Devil’s pact as it may well prove, was made the night she stayed at the Nelson. Milady said she’d help if in return he’d take tea with her. Though shamed to think it Luke wonders if the invitation isn’t more about eating a slice of Milady rather than strawberry tart.
‘You’ll come to my house in London and I shall paint you,’ was what she said.
‘I’ll come to your house but I don’t know about sit for painting.’
‘So you’re making rules, are you, Mr Wolf? I thought you needed my help.’
‘I do! Or rather she does, your friend. She needs it bad.’
‘Then place no barriers on friendship and I’ll place none; who knows we may both succeed in our desires.’ A fairy goblin she’d drifted away in the moonlight. ‘One thing more,’ she’d paused. ‘I want you there when I do bring friends.’
‘What d’you mean?’
‘At Ju-ju’s little cafe.’
‘Oh no, you don’t need me! I’ll only act like a fool.’
‘No you won’t. You’ll be what you are, rather splendid.’
Now he’s here, Mr Splendid, crumbling cake with sticky fingers. ‘Thanks for coming, Joe.’
Joe shrugged. ‘Folk can be so bloody cruel.’
‘So they can.’
Luke stared out as people stared in. It’s the same crowd that always makes the rules, August Simpkin’s wife and her minions, them that sings hymns and talks of Christian charity but are first to put the boot in. Every one of them peers into this goldfish bowl hoping to see a dainty little fish gasp for air.
‘Is your Mam coming?’ whispered Joe.
‘I’m hoping so. I told her straight if she doesn’t me and her are done.’
‘Women can be awkward about such things especially when beauty is involved. My missis was none too pleased but I can’t help that. Madam’s been kindness itself to me. I’ll not stand by and see her crushed. Talkin’ of standin’ by did you hear some bloke’s hangin’ about the cottage again?’
Luke’s stomach jolted. ‘No I didn’t!’
‘Aye, more fag ends on t’floor
and
a cigar butt! What do you make of that?’
‘I don’t know but I don’t like it.’
‘I got the constable to take a look, not that he was much use.’
‘Maybe not but at least word will travel. That might keep ‘em off.’
‘Here hold on!’ Joe craned his neck. ‘I think I see your Mam’s coming down t’road. It looks to me like you’ve won a battle, lad, if not the war.’
Dressed in best blue silk and feathered hat Nan Roberts bounced through the door. Luke got his feet. ‘You came?’
‘So it would seem.’
‘Thank you, Ma.’
‘Don’t be too hasty with your thank-yous, Luke Roberts. I’m here and I’m havin’ a cup of tea and then I’m off. I’ve things to do.’
‘I don’t mind.’ Luke sat down again his heart a little easier. ‘You came. That’s all that matters. I’ll not forget.’
‘Make sure you don’t!’ Nan settled her skirts and then waved the menu at Dottie. ‘Well I’m here young woman! If you’re ready to wait on I am ready to be served.’
Colour high and eyes brilliant Julianna arrived at a rush. ‘Dearest, Nan!’ She hugged Nan, and Nan, Luke could tell, was overcome with remorseful affection and hugged her back. ‘Alright then, Anna,’ Nan blinked through brilliant blue parrot feathers. ‘We’re here and as friends we shall sink or swim together.’
The tea-pot arrived. Nan is sipping and crooking her little finger and out-staring onlookers, her face stern but her eyes sparkling and her ginger-up.
Joe is grinning and so are the maids. They’re making the best of a bad job.
They sat for a while, tea spoons rattling, and then Joe gestured. ‘What’s goin’ on outside?’ They looked. The window was clear, not a soul peering in. What’s more the road was free of traffic not a cart or hansom in sight.
Joe stood up. ‘There’s a right kerfuffle goin’ on out here,’ he said craning his neck. ‘There’s Bobbies in the road directin’ traffic.’
‘Directing traffic?’
‘Aye, policemen everywhere.’
A carriage rolled up with a uniformed chauffeur at the wheel. Two men got out. Toffs dressed in top hats and frock-coats they entered the tea-shop.
‘What’s to do?’ whispered Joe.
‘I’ve no idea,’ said Luke whose brain was buzzing with a million ideas!
The two men, Court equerries they were to learn, talked with Julianna who by degrees was pale, then pink, and then pale again. As Joe said police were clearing the road and herding folk onto the path. There was a buzz in the air and a murmur. The murmur became a roar. People were cheering and shouting! Another carriage pulled up, and then another, this one a big open topped landau, horses gleaming and pennants flying, and sitting in the back, smiling and nodding, the cause of the kerfuffle.
‘Oh my Lord!’
Luke’s back froze. She’s done it! Lady Eve Carrington has kept her promise. She’s brought friends and influence alright. My word has she!
Nan is fumbling with her bag. ‘It is him isn’t it?’ she squeaks.
‘Be still Ma,’ Luke put his hand on her knee. He turned to Joe. ‘If I were you, Joe, I’d keep your eyes peeled and your mouth shut. I reckon we’re going to see and hear things today we’re never likely to see or hear again.’
One of the equerries went back to the car. There was a brief conversation with the occupant and then the equerry approached their table.
Luke is on his feet.