Love or Duty (13 page)

‘I’m sorry to hear that. I had a restless night, too. It’s understandable after what we’ve been through lately.’ Louise poured the tea and set the tray across Dora’s knees. ‘Here’s your breakfast. You’ll feel better for something to eat.’

‘I don’t think I can….’

‘You must keep your strength up.’ Louise hated speaking in platitudes when what she really wanted to do was give her stepmother a good shaking. Dora wasn’t the only one grieving. She hadn’t once expressed any sympathy for Louise or for her own daughter and how she must be feeling after getting the telegram on board the
Queen Mary
.

Poor Sarah, she thought. What a shock for her. And how hard it must be, knowing she couldn’t get back to England for the funeral. But what would be the point of her coming back now?

Steeling herself to hide her impatience with Dora, she said, ‘Try to eat a little, Mother.’

As she left the room Dora picked up a piece of toast and began to nibble at it. But when Polly brought the tray down later, hardly anything had been touched.

Louise was sitting at the kitchen table making a shopping list and she looked up to ask, ‘Do you always take Mother a breakfast tray?’

Polly looked surprised. ‘Yes, the master always said he liked a bit of quiet in the mornings to read his paper.’ She gave a little sob. ‘I used to serve him in the dining room. The mistress never came down till after he’d left for the office.’

Louise remembered that they’d always sat down to breakfast as a family before she and Sarah had gone to live in London. There had been a lot of changes since then. She resolved that if she were going to stay, things would have to change even more. When she was a child they’d had Cookie and a daily woman as well as Polly. It was too much to expect one person to look after this big house and run about after its inhabitants as well. Well, for a start there’ll be no more running up and down stairs with trays, she resolved.

As she finished her breakfast, Louise began to make plans. Before she could do anything about engaging extra help in the house she would have to investigate their financial situation. Her father had been adamant that they could not replace Cookie after her accident and they had let the gardener go as well, but that had been during the slump. There’d also been a few problems after the fire but Louise was sure that business had improved recently. She wished now she’d listened more carefully when David Webster was explaining the ramifications of her father’s will. She would have to make an appointment to see him. But first she’d go to the office and speak to Miss Baines or James Spencer.

She walked briskly through the town to the offices of Charlton and Spencer, barely acknowledging the greetings and condolences of the many people who had known her father. She walked up the steps and pushed open the door to the foyer, expecting see Miss Baines at her usual post. Instead, it was James who looked up from opening the mail that was piled on the secretary’s desk.

‘Miss Charlton – Louise – I didn’t expect to see you today.’ He stood up and came towards her, taking her hands and leading her to one of the comfortable chairs set in the bay window. ‘What can I do for you?’ His tone was solicitous and he patted her hand.

The gesture was too much for Louise and the tensions of the past few days erupted in a storm of tears. She snatched the handkerchief James offered her and tried to apologize, sniffing and shaking her head. ‘It was just – being here. I suddenly realized I’d never see Father again.’ She burst into tears again.

Gently, James put his arm round her, easing her out of the chair and leading her into her father’s old office. ‘Sit here for a minute. I’ll get you a drink of water.’

He left her alone and she tried to compose herself, taking a few shaky breaths and wiping her eyes. She straightened her shoulders and stood up, taking a few paces around the room, looking at the framed photographs on the walls – buildings her father had designed, a picture of him with William Spencer and the mayor. Seeing his beloved face smiling down at her almost brought tears once more. But she was distracted by the sound of raised voices from the outer office.

When James returned, his face was red and his voice tight. ‘That woman’s getting too big for her boots. I kept telling your father he was giving her too much responsibility. She’s just a secretary, here to take orders.’

Louise wondered what the inoffensive Miss Baines could have done to make James so angry. ‘My father relied on her a great deal, especially after your father died,’ she said.

‘But he didn’t need to when I took on my father’s share of the work.’ He paced the room, muttering. ‘I can’t have her poking her nose into private papers.’ He stopped abruptly and caught Louise’s eye. ‘Client confidentiality, you know,’ he said.

‘I’m sure Miss Baines is very discreet.’

‘You’re right.’ He gave an embarrassed laugh. ‘I probably overreacted. Things have been getting on top of me since your father….’

Louise put her hand on his arm. ‘I understand. That’s why I’m here.’

‘What do you mean? I thought you’d come in to find out where you stand – with money and so.’ He gave a little cough. ‘I know from what the solicitor said yesterday that there are a few legal things to sort out as your father hadn’t made a new will after the fire.’

Louise vaguely remembered something being said but she brushed it aside. ‘I meant that I can help with the business. There must be something I can do. Before I went to London, Father used to talk to me about his
projects
. He wanted me to work with him but Mother was against it. I’m old enough to make my own decisions now.’

James shook his head. ‘I think Mrs Charlton was right. Besides, you don’t have any secretarial qualifications do you?’

‘I wasn’t thinking of being a secretary.’ Louise was indignant. She might not be a qualified architect or surveyor but she felt she knew just as much about property and estate agency as James did.

‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…. It’s just that it’s a bit soon to be making
decisions
like that. Besides, your stepmother probably needs you more than the business does right now, especially with your sister being so far away.’

‘Perhaps.’ Louise nodded slowly.

James smiled. ‘Let’s not think about work right now. I’ll take you out to lunch. They do a good roast at the Esplanade Hotel.’

W
hen Louise returned to Steyne House, she found Polly in tears once more.

‘Oh, Miss Louise, I didn’t know what to do. The mistress was in such a state. I didn’t know when you’d be back so I phoned Dr Tate.’ She sniffed. ‘He’s still here.’

Louise patted Polly’s arm. ‘You did the right thing,’ she said, before running up the stairs two at a time.

On the landing she was brought up short as Andrew Tate came out of her stepmother’s bedroom. ‘Oh, it’s you,’ she said, feeling the familiar flush creeping over her face.

‘Uncle George was out on a call so….’

‘I thought you’d gone back to London.’ Louise tried to calm her racing heart. She hadn’t expected to run into Andrew again so soon. ‘Is my
stepmother
all right?’ she asked.

‘She just got herself in a bit of a state. She’s finding it hard to cope with your father’s death,’ he said.

So am I, thought Louise, but I don’t carry on like that. She bit her lip, ashamed of her uncharitable thoughts. ‘Are you sure that’s all it is?’

Andrew smiled reassuringly. ‘Positive. She mentioned palpitations and she’s sure there’s something wrong with her heart. But, really, it’s just the stress of the past week. She’ll be all right.’

‘I should go and see her,’ Louise said.

‘Leave her – I’ve given her a sedative. A good sleep will do her good.’

‘I shouldn’t have left her. I knew she wasn’t feeling herself.’

‘Nonsense, you have to go out some time.’

‘I didn’t mean to be gone so long. But James took me to lunch and we lingered over our coffee. There was so much to talk about.’

‘I understand. You mustn’t feel guilty for enjoying yourself.’

Louise wanted to tell him it had been more of a business meeting than enjoyment. But before she could speak he had hurried downstairs and grabbed his hat from the hallstand.

‘I have to go back to London tomorrow but if you’re worried, my uncle will call round any time,’ he said.

Louise thanked him and let him out of the front door. He stood on the step for a moment looking towards the sea. ‘It’s hard to believe we’re really at war on such a lovely day. I fear this is just the lull before the storm, though. It’s a good job we managed to get those children out of London.’

‘You really think it will be bad then?’

Andrew shrugged. ‘Let’s hope we’re being pessimistic. And if nothing else happens, at least this sea air will do wonders for those poor children.’

‘That’s true. I love being by the sea.’

‘You’re going to stay then?’

Louise nodded.

He walked away and, as she watched him go, she wished she were returning to London too. There was nothing here for her. James had made it quite clear that he didn’t want her interfering in the business. If she’d accepted Phil’s offer of a job in the theatre, she could have returned for her father’s funeral and then gone straight back – away from her stepmother’s selfish demands and the worry of running the house.

Much as she loved the little seaside town where she’d been born, she
realized
that, in coming back for good, she was giving up any chance she might have had of the freedom to live her own life.

Polly had calmed down by the time Louise joined her in the kitchen. She sat the maid down at the scrubbed table and spoke firmly. ‘I know you get upset when Mother’s in one of her states, but you must be strong and not let her bully you.’

‘But she’s the mistress. I have to do what she says.’

‘No, Polly, you don’t have to run up and down with trays and cater to her every whim. Dr Tate says she’s not really ill and it will do her good to get up and come downstairs. She can’t expect you to run around after her. You have enough to do.’

‘If you’re sure, Miss.’

‘I am. From now on, you take your orders from me.’ Louise gave a little laugh. ‘Don’t worry, I won’t be giving orders as such. We’ll share the work.’

Polly nodded and managed a tentative smile. ‘It’ll be like when you were a little girl, helping me and Cookie in the kitchen, making cakes and biscuits.’

Louise nodded. ‘Those were happy days, weren’t they?’ Before Dora came into our lives she added silently. She felt a lump in her throat and got up to fill the kettle.

She turned to Polly. ‘What brought it on?’ she asked, referring to her stepmother’s attack of hysteria. ‘She was perfectly all right when I went out.’

‘Well, she wasn’t best pleased when I told her you’d gone to your father’s office. She said it was nothing to do with you and Mr James could manage perfectly well.’

‘Was that all?’

Polly shook her head. ‘She’d just got dressed and come down when that Mrs Bennett turned up. She had one of those clipboard things and a list as long as your arm and said she needed to see Mrs Charlton about war work. So I showed her in and went to get some tea.’

‘I would have thought Mother would be pleased to help.’ Louise knew Dora loved to be involved in church committees and charities.

‘Well, of course, I didn’t hear everything but when I came back with the tea Mrs Bennett said something about it being Mrs Charlton’s duty to do everything she could for the war effort and she hadn’t asked before because of her recent bereavement.’

‘What did she want Mother to do?’

‘Take in some of those poor little kiddies from London. Mrs Bennett is what they call a billeting officer. She has to find places for them to stay.’

‘And Mother refused?’

Polly nodded. ‘That’s when she got all hysterical. Mrs Bennett left and told me to call the doctor.’

Louise couldn’t help agreeing with Dora – but for different reasons. Steyne House was no place for a lively child she thought, recalling her own and Sarah’s childhood when they weren’t allowed to run and play or sing because Mother had ‘one of her heads’.

Still, she wouldn’t mind having a child to stay. After all, they had plenty of room. With a short laugh, Louise knew that it would never work. But she resolved to try and persuade her stepmother.

And, if they couldn’t have a child to stay, there were plenty of other jobs she could do. She’d offered to help with the children’s hospital but now she wasn’t so sure. It was obvious from Andrew Tate’s cool manner and his eagerness to return to London, that he had no interest in her and it would be embarrassing to keep running into him.

She’d go and see Mrs Bennett to see what she could do to help but first she’d speak to Dora and try to persuade her take in one child at least.

She was sitting in the kitchen having a cup of tea with Polly when Dora appeared in the doorway. She was still in her dressing gown and her hair was unkempt. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes glittered with a kind of fever. She really did look ill, Louise thought, jumping up in alarm.

‘Mother, come and sit down. Let me get you some tea,’ she said.

Dora’s eyes flashed. ‘We do not drink tea in the kitchen with servants,’ she said. ‘Polly, I’ve been calling and calling. Bring a tray into the drawing room – now. Louise, come with me.’

Before Louise could reply, she had turned away.

Polly jumped up and grabbed a tray but Louise stopped her. ‘I’ll do it. Finish your own tea.’

She was furious as she realized it was not illness but temper that had caused Dora’s flushed cheeks and glittering eyes. Surely she could see that poor Polly was worn out. It wouldn’t hurt her to get her own tea for once. She took the tray into the drawing room and set it on a low table beside her stepmother’s armchair.

‘Mother, you shouldn’t speak to Polly like that. She may be a servant but she has feelings.’

‘Oh, the girl’s impossible. Can’t do the simplest things and she’s getting so surly.’ Dora took the cup and saucer that Louise offered her. ‘And you make things worse, treating her like a member of the family. We pay her wages and she must do as she’s told.’

Louise wanted to say that she thought of Polly as family, remembering how she’d looked after her when she was a child. She had been with them for over twenty years and, until Dora had come on the scene, had been, if not like a mother, at least a big sister to the lonely child Louise had been. It was no use, though. Her stepmother had got used to having someone to order about and was anxious to maintain her perceived status as wife of one of the town’s prominent businessmen.

So far, the war hadn’t made much difference to the lives of the people of Holton Regis. After the flurry of activity in the first couple of months, the gas drills, the sandbags stacked against the main buildings in the town and the threat of rationing, people had started to call it the phony war.

For Louise, life at Steyne House began to revolve round Dora’s demands and it was almost as if those months in London had been a dream. She had now begun to realize just how much work was involved in running the big house and she wondered how Polly had managed for so long without any help.

Despite her promise to engage someone else, it had proved impossible. Young girls didn’t want to go into service any more. There were far more exciting prospects in the women’s services and more money to be earned in the burgeoning wartime factories. How Louise envied them the freedom to choose. She could have left, of course, joined the ATS or the WAAFs, but she couldn’t bring herself to abandon Dora.

The letter from her half-sister had arrived two weeks after the funeral, written after her arrival in New York – three tear-stained pages of grief for her father and guilt that she hadn’t been with him. ‘If only I had realized how ill he was, I would have stayed,’ she had written. She had ended with a plea to Louise to ‘look after Mother. I couldn’t bear to lose her too.’

She had written back to say that she would stay as long as she was needed. Now, it looked as if that would be for a very long time. Dora had taken to her bed almost permanently, only coming downstairs to berate Louise or Polly for some imagined neglect of their duties. That was the word Dora used – ‘duty’ – and Louise was beginning to hate the sound of it.

She was doing her best and was grateful for Polly’s willingness to work hard. Life would have been easier if Dora would agree to shutting up some of the rooms, to eat in the kitchen and to dispense with fires in the bedrooms. But everything had to be done ‘properly’.

One bitterly cold morning, Polly was filling the coal scuttle to take up to Dora’s bedroom. ‘She says she’s not feeling well again,’ she said, when Louise questioned her.

‘Doesn’t she understand that the coal has to last?’ Louise sighed. ‘If she has a fire up there it means we have to go cold.’

‘That don’t worry her,’ Polly said.

Once, Louise would have chided her for her outspokenness, but now she could only agree. Dora’s selfishness was becoming more marked and she seemed unable to grasp the inevitable changes that war was bringing to their lives. It was turning out to be the coldest winter for years and already there was a shortage of coal. And now that bacon, butter and sugar were rationed Louise was finding it harder to manage the housekeeping.

She decided it was time to take a firm stand. ‘There’s a fire in the morning room,’ she said. ‘If Mother feels cold, she must come downstairs. Fires in the bedroom are a luxury we cannot afford at present.’

It was true. Since her father’s death Louise had begun to realize just how privileged she had been. Despite the problems caused by the nationwide slump as well as the fire, she’d never really had to worry about money. Since her talk with James Spencer a few days ago she’d had to face up to the fact that the business wasn’t doing so well. ‘The war is bound to make a
difference
,’ he’d said. ‘Who wants to build new houses when they might be bombed?’

‘You really think that’ll happen?’

‘It’s the lull before the storm,’ James said. ‘Everyone says so.’

‘But we have the rents from the properties,’ she said.

‘That’s only a small part of the business.’ James had placed a hand over hers. ‘I don’t want you to worry.’

Louise was worried, though. And Dora had no idea of the situation, or if she had, she was refusing to face up to it.