No Moon (19 page)

Mother and Emmy are waiting for me at the door. The twins grin bashfully, and little George pulls at my skirt, wanting to be picked up. When we have
gone inside and the kissing and hugging and a few joyful tears are over, Father turns to me.

“Well, now, it’s good to have you home, Lou. Your mother has been baking ever since she heard you were back safe and sound!” The entire kitchen table is covered with cakes, scones, biscuits, and pies. It looks like a coronation tea!

I have to describe the sinking and the rescue, the wait in the lifeboats, and the climb up the ladder to the
Carpathia
. I leave out some things, but manage to tell how beautiful and elegant the ship was! And when I am all talked out, I ask Father how it is that he is home early from the market on a Saturday afternoon.

“Isn’t this your busiest time, Father?”

“Nothing that can’t wait for my Lou’s return,” he says, and that almost makes me cry again. He pats my hand, suddenly shy at showing any emotion. Then he lifts Emily onto his knee.

“Your uncle Alf and I have taken on an assistant. Do you remember young Patrick O’Connor, Lou?” Father says.

“Patrick, you don’t mean Kathleen’s Patrick? I thought he had drowned. His name was not on the list of survivors, Father.”

“He never went!” my father says.

“Who’s talking about Patrick? Lou, oh, Lou, you’re home!” Kathleen rushes in and throws her arms
around my neck. I am so thankful that I will not have to tell Kathleen that her Patrick is at the bottom of the ocean with the
Titanic
. Mother dabs her eyes again–her apron must be quite damp by now!

“Oh, Lou, when I think of you and those little girls and…” Mother says.

“If you start crying again, Harry and me are going out to play. Can we please, Mother?” my little brother Tom asks, itching to get away.

“There’s sausages for supper; don’t be late,” Mother says.

Tom hurries out after Harry, turns at the door, runs back, and tweaks my hair. “We told Mother you’d never drown!” he says and disappears.

“Now, Flo,” Father says, “she’s home safe and sound and none the worse! Sit down and drink your tea. As for Patrick, Lou, I reckon he’s had a lucky escape, though he did not think so at the time. He was one of a group of stokers who’d missed the early train from London, or so he told us!” Father gives Kathleen a stern look. “Not that it is any of my business.” Kathleen suppresses a smile.

“When they arrived at the ship, he said the crew’s gangway was just being pulled up. They were told their positions had been given to replacements–men who’d been waiting for hours, hoping to get taken on. Well, next day, Patrick turns up at the market. He offers to put in two days work, for no pay, to show
us what he can do. I tell you, that lad is never idle for a minute. Truth is, I don’t know how Alf and I ever managed without him!” Father goes out for a smoke.

Mother looks pleased. “Take your sister upstairs, Kathleen. You must have a lot to talk about. Emmy can lend me a hand getting supper. She’s a real help now. She made those scones all by herself. Do you want fried bread with your sausages, Lou?”

“Please, Mother. Come here, Emmy, and let me take a look at you. You haven’t said a word. My goodness, you’re growing tall! I don’t know where my little sister went. I can see who will be baking all the fancy cakes for Kathleen’s salon one of these days!”

Upstairs, in the room we shared for so long, Kathleen tells me that Patrick has been asked twice for Sunday tea.

“Father says he sees no reason why we can’t walk out, seeing as I’ve turned sixteen.” Love found Kath early. I would not be a bit surprised if one day they became engaged! Mother and Father seem to have taken a real liking to Patrick.

At first, Kathleen won’t hear of taking any money for a new coat.

“You have no idea what that coat meant to me, Kathleen. I felt so proud wearing it on deck in the moonlight, just as you said I should. It kept the girls
and me from freezing in the lifeboat. It covered a half-drowned sailor, and now it has been cut down for two little children who were rescued wearing only their nightclothes.” I insist she take the money to buy another coat.

Father walks all the way back to Chesham Place with me–he has never done such a thing before. “We are that proud of you and grateful you were spared!” he tells me.

Two days after Lord Milton’s funeral–after Master Roger had been driven back to school, pale and refusing to shed a tear in front of us–Nanny and I are asked to bring the girls down to say good-bye to their grandmother. Lady Portman will be returning home early tomorrow morning. Miss Alexandra is out of sorts, bewildered by the many comings and goings in the house. She cries and does not want to say good-bye.

“With your permission, Lady Milton, Lady Portman, Miss Alexandra is overtired and should be put to bed,” Nanny says. Lady Milton agrees, her thoughts elsewhere, I think.

“Gardener, take Miss Alexandra upstairs immediately, please,” Nanny says.

“No! Don’t want to!” The child rubs her eyes with her fists.

“Come along, I will read you a nice story when you
are in bed,” I coax her, and she takes my hand. I hear Nanny sigh her disapproval.
What’s wrong now?

“Will you read to me, too, Gardy, when I am in bed?” Miss Portia asks.

Nanny Mackintosh, her face mottled with anger, answers before I have a chance to reply: “Must I remind you again, Miss Portia, that big girls of five are old enough to remember that pet names are not permitted in my nursery. There will be no more stories until you ask Gardener correctly.”

Lady Milton rises from the sofa. Her face is pale and stern.

“You have said quite enough, Nanny Mackintosh. You will not bully either my daughters or Gardener in this way. What does it matter what the children call the person who saved their lives? It is a pity that you are not as fond of children as she is. Girls, you may go upstairs now with…” Lady Milton hesitates, “…with Gardy. She will read to you both. Mama is tired.”

“I beg your pardon, Lady Milton.” Nanny Mackintosh sails out the room.
Gardy?

Miss Portia runs to her mother and puts her arms around her neck, then kisses both her mother and grandmother. As I close the drawing-room door behind us, I hear Lady Milton’s brokenhearted words, “Mother, how can we manage without him?”

Upstairs, there is no sign of Nanny. No doubt she
is complaining to Mrs. Ransom! I do not see Nanny again that night, but she presides over breakfast and lunch as usual. No word is said about the incident and no comment made when Miss Portia does not finish everything on her plate.

N
ext day, when we return from our afternoon walk, Nanny’s door is ajar, the room is bare, and the bed has been stripped. Hart passes me in the corridor as we come in and whispers, “Nanny Mackintosh has left for good!” She must have spent the afternoon packing her things. Hart is called away, so I don’t have a chance to hear any more before we go upstairs.

Phipps brings up our tea tray and sets out cups and plates for three. “Tea, for my three beautiful ladies,” he says. Miss Portia and Miss Alexandra bat their eyelashes at him, but I take no notice. So it must be true–Nanny Mackintosh really has gone. Phipps would never have been so impertinent if she’d been here! And I would have been blamed for sure by Nanny…accused of encouraging him. Sometimes I
wonder if Mr. Phipps is suited to being a footman. But I admit I enjoy his teasing, now that I’ve become used to it.

The children settle to playing with their dollhouse after tea, and I clear the table before ringing the bell. Dean comes up to collect the tray.

“Lady Milton wants to see you in the drawing room. I’m to stay with the girls until you return.”

I change my apron and cap, feeling as nervous as I did a year ago, when I was first interviewed. I wonder what she wants. The only thing I can think of is that I am going to be dismissed.
Then who will look after Miss Portia and Miss Alexandra if both Nanny and I are gone?

Before she left, I am sure Nanny Mackintosh complained about me to Mrs. Ransom. Nanny had warned me that she would do so. And it is Mrs. Ransom who advises Lady Milton about staff changes.

As Mother said, girls are always ready to jump at the chance of working in a good place. It will break my heart to leave, but I am not sorry for disagreeing with Nanny Mackintosh. Rigid, that’s what she was, unkind and unbending. Miss Portia and Miss Alexandra need a bit of extra love and attention just now. I straighten my cap and knock at the drawing-room door.

“Thank you, Hart, you may leave us now. I will ring when Gardener and I have finished our talk.” Hart
leaves, without so much as a glance at me. That’s not a good sign. I notice Lady Milton’s untouched tea tray. Hart said she’s not eating enough for one, let alone two!

“I will come straight to the point, Gardener. Nanny Mackintosh has decided to return to Edinburgh permanently, to be closer to her widowed mother. This leaves my daughters without a nanny. May I be frank with you, Gardener?”

Whatever Lady Milton has in mind, I know it will turn out to be something unpleasant! That’s what being frank usually means.

“You are still very young and, over the last few weeks, you have had to shoulder a great deal of responsibility. More than one would expect of someone twice your age…”

Lady Milton does not sound as if she is going to dismiss me without a character. She is only saying that I am too young and inexperienced.

“I have discussed the matter with my mother, and we are in complete agreement. I would like you to stay on as nanny. The children and I would not want to be without you!”
I am to be kept on? I am not to be dismissed, after all?
I can hardly believe it, I was so sure …

“Please think carefully before you answer, Gardener. Do you feel that you are able to continue to be in charge of Miss Portia and my naughty
little Alexandra? We have spoiled her, I am afraid. Her papa doted on her.”

“Miss Alexandra wants to be independent. She is a sweet good girl. I am quite firm with her, ma’am. I would like to stay very much, Lady Milton.”

“I am so pleased to hear that, Gardener. We hoped you would. You, Hart, the girls, and I have been through more together than anyone can ever comprehend! I hope you will remain as nanny and as friend and companion to my daughters for many years. I am sure this is what my husband would have wished too. He told me you would look after them, after he saw you.”

“Oh, ma’am…” My eyes fill with tears. It isn’t fair, the children fatherless!

“I will expect you to bring any nursery problems to me. I must try to be both mother and father to my children now.” Lady Milton also seems close to tears, but composes herself and continues calmly. “Now for practical matters…I will inform Mrs. Ransom what has been decided. Your salary will be raised immediately to sixteen pounds a year and to twenty pounds in a year’s time. We will spend the summer with Lady Portman. Master Roger will join us there. My mother will return home with us and stay until after the baby’s arrival. A baby nurse will be hired for the early months. Good can take over nursery cleaning duties. Do you find her capable?”

“Yes, ma’am. She is a nice, hardworking girl. Her windows are perfect!”

“I can see that the nursery is going to be a much happier place from now on. Thank you, Gardener. I will be up later to say good night to the children.”

I pass by Hart in the hall. She says, “I was wrong, wasn’t I? Things are changing, and about time too!” She must have known.

I take the nursery stairs two at a time, then, remembering my new position, slow down.
Why? Who is going to tell me what to do, or how to behave?
I can run or walk as I please. I hurry on up, anxious to tell the girls that, from now on, I will be their nanny!

That night, when I go down for my cocoa and biscuits, the servants’ hall is hushed. Everyone is gathered around the long table in complete silence.
Has something happened?
Mr. Briggs gets up and pulls out my chair for me.

“Good evening, Nanny,” he says respectfully. I flush scarlet and look over my shoulder, half-expecting to see Nanny Mackintosh standing behind me. Croft comes in from the larder holding a large, white, iced cake, decorated with pink roses. Written in pink letters are the words
W
ELCOME
H
OME
, H
ART AND
N
ANNY
G
ARDENER
.

“What a beautiful cake! Thank you, Mrs. Porter,” Hart says. I am quite overwhelmed and can manage
only a smile. Everyone applauds.

As usual, Phipps is the first to speak. “Is it to look at or to eat, Mrs. Porter?”

“That’s for Hart and Nanny Gardener to say, seeing as I baked it for them!”

“It looks too nice to eat, Mrs. Porter, but it would be a shame to let it get stale, wouldn’t it?” Hart replies. Mrs. Porter cuts everyone a generous slice and says she’ll send up some for the children’s tea next day, subject to my approval!

This time, I do find my voice. “You are kind, Mrs. Porter, thank you. The girls will love a treat. I’d better get back to the nursery so that Good can come down and enjoy a piece, too. And, Mrs. Porter,
you
know best about what to send up for nursery meals. Thank you again. Good night, all.”

The children do not talk about what happened on the
Titanic
. But I watch and listen carefully, ready to answer their questions if need be. They have gradually come to accept that their papa will not be coming home.

On the last night of our stay in Amersham, I slip into the garden. It is a beautiful warm night, bright with stars and a new moon. This time, unafraid that Nanny will pounce when I return upstairs, I sit for a while on the swing, grateful for a slight breeze, listening to sounds of the garden.

A white-gowned figure tiptoes down the path towards me. She looks like a small ghost in her white nightgown, long fair hair, and bare feet.

“Miss Portia, whatever are you doing? Come here.” I pull the little girl up beside me and put my arm round her. “Did you have a bad dream?” I ask.