No Wings to Fly (36 page)

‘Yes,’ Lily said, ‘that’s much better. Well done.’

And so the rest of the lesson continued for a while longer, until the church clock struck the half-hour, at which Lily said, ‘All right, girls, you may put away your things and take them back to the house. I shall see you on Monday morning.’

The pair needed no second telling, and soon their pencils and books had been stowed away. At the same time Lily
shook out the rug, folded it and tucked it under her arm and picked up her bag. The three of them then moved off through the orchard and up the garden path to the house where they went in through the back door and into the hall. There the two girls said goodbye, and as they headed for the stairs Lily moved to the drawing room and tapped on the door. A moment later she heard a call of ‘Come in,’ and she turned the handle and entered.

Mrs Acland was sitting on the sofa with some fabric in her hands and a sewing basket beside her. She smiled as Lily came forward, and Lily was relieved.

‘You wanted to see me, ma’am,’ Lily said.

‘Yes, I did.’ Mrs Acland laid down her sewing and indicated a chair nearby. ‘Sit down, please.’

Lily took a seat and Mrs Acland beamed at her, her plump face creasing. ‘How was your morning?’

Lily smiled in return and said that it had gone well.

‘Excellent. It’s good for the girls to get out in the fresh air. Particularly Rosie. She’ll stay indoors with her nose stuck in a book given half the chance. They’ve gone upstairs now, have they?’

‘Yes, ma’am.’

‘Good. Good.’

A little silence passed, while Lily sat with her hands folded in her lap. Then Mrs Acland spoke again.

‘Well – now – Miss Clair,’ she said, ‘I’m sure you’re wondering why I asked you to come and see me. The truth is, I’m afraid I have some disappointing news. Disappointing for you, that is.’

Lily waited.

‘I say disappointing for you,’ Mrs Acland went on, ‘as I have to tell you that we’ve decided, Mr Acland and I, that it’s time the girls went off to school.’

Lily nodded. ‘I see. Yes.’

‘Yes, indeed.’ Mrs Acland’s smile now was rueful. ‘Oh,
dear, I’m so sorry to have to tell you this, but I’m afraid there’s nothing else for it. They’re coming up to eleven now, and we’ve decided that a good boarding school is the best course for them. But sadly, of course, that means we shall no longer require your excellent services.’

So, Lily thought, she was not to be reprimanded after all; she was to be dismissed.

‘We haven’t decided exactly which school the girls will go to,’ Mrs Acland went on, ‘though we’re considering two in particular.’ She broke off, her plain face softening with sympathy. ‘I’m sorry, dear, to have to give you this news. It must be very disappointing for you. You are disappointed, aren’t you?’

Lily nodded. ‘I am indeed, ma’am. I’ve been very happy here.’ She paused. ‘Would that be in September, ma’am, when the girls go away?’

‘Yes. They don’t know about it yet. We haven’t told them. Please don’t mention it to them.’

‘No, of course not.’

‘I’ve no idea how they’ll take to the idea,’ Mrs Acland said. ‘I don’t think they’ll look forward to going away from home, and I’m sure they’ll miss you, Miss Clair. They’re very fond of you, and they enjoy their lessons. Also I want you to know that Mr Acland and I have no complaints whatsoever with regard to your work, but, as you’ll understand, we have to think of the girls’ future.’ She paused. ‘I doubt this has come as the greatest shock to you, has it, Miss Clair?’

‘No, ma’am. It was inevitable at some time.’

‘Of course. You’re twenty-three now, aren’t you? Is that correct? You had a birthday at the beginning of the month.’

‘Yes, ma’am.’

Mrs Acland nodded. ‘Well, you’re still very young – and I’ve no doubt you’ll soon find yourself another position.’ She smiled. ‘Of course, you can be assured that Mr Acland
and I will give you an excellent reference. No question about that.’

Lily murmured her thanks, and then asked, ‘So – for how much longer will you have need of me, ma’am?’

‘Ah, yes,’ Mrs Acland nodded. ‘Mr Acland and I would like you to stay on for another four weeks. That will take us to near the end of August – Saturday the twenty-sixth.

Lily nodded. ‘Yes, ma’am.’ She could think of nothing else to say. She had been given very little time.

‘Of course,’ Mrs Acland continued, ‘we’re well aware that your contract takes you to the beginning of December – and we wouldn’t want you to be the loser with regard to those weeks, so you can rest assured that you’ll be paid up until that time.’

Lily was relieved. ‘Thank you, ma’am, that’s very good of you.’

‘Not at all. We came to the conclusion that the girls have to go away, but we only made the final decision a few days ago. I wanted to tell you without too much delay, so that you can start looking out for a new post and get settled again as soon as possible.’

‘Yes, I shall have to.’

A few moments of silence went by, then Mrs Acland said, a little note of relief in her voice, ‘Well, anyway, that’s got that business out of the way. I didn’t look forward to having to tell you, but there’s nothing for it, is there?’ She smiled. ‘So tell me now – how have you been getting on lately? We never have the chance to exchange more than two or three words. We’re always so busy, it seems. I assume you’ve been well.’

‘Oh, indeed, yes, ma’am. I’ve been very well.’

‘That’s good. Have you heard from your brother lately?’

‘Not for a little while, no. He writes when he can, but it’s not often.’

‘He’s still in London, is he?’

‘Yes, he is.’

Mrs Acland nodded. ‘I’ve been there twice, and that was enough. I don’t know how people live there. Oh, good heavens, the dirt, the soot, and I don’t-know-what-else.’ She shook her head, then, with a pleasurable little sigh said, ‘I must say it’s nice to sit and chat for two minutes. Esme will be bringing me some tea soon. Would you like to join me over a cup, Miss Clair?’

Lily hesitated. She did not wish to appear rude, but she was anxious to get away. ‘Oh, ma’am,’ she said, ‘at any other time I would be so pleased to, but today I’ve got to go into Corster for Miss Balfour.’

Mrs Acland nodded. ‘Oh, yes, you go in for her rents, don’t you.’

‘Yes, every fortnight. It helps her out.’

‘I’m sure it does.’ Mrs Acland clasped her hands before her. ‘Well, I suppose you’d better go, then, or you’ll be late.’

‘Yes, ma’am. Thank you.’

‘Fine. And we’ll see you on Monday morning as usual.’

‘Yes, indeed.’ The meeting was over.

From Yew Tree House, Lily made her way to Roseberry Cottage, where she used her latchkey to let herself into the small hall. The door to the little parlour was open and as she closed the front door she heard her landlady’s voice call out to her: ‘That you, Lily?’ – her usual greeting – and Lily replied, also as usual, ‘Yes, Mrs Thorne, it’s me.’ As she moved to the stairs, the landlady came to the parlour door, carrying a letter.

‘Here you are, dear – this came just after you left this morning.’

Lily took one glance at the writing on the envelope and saw that it was from Tom. Mrs Thorne noted the gladness in her expression and said, ‘You look pleased.’

‘Yes. It’s from my brother in London.’

‘Oh – well, let’s hope it’s good news.’

Eager to read the letter, Lily started towards the stairs. As she did so, Mrs Thorne said, ‘You’ll be off to Sherrell a bit later, will you?’

‘Yes, but I’m going into Corster on the way. Just as soon as I’ve washed my face and tidied myself up a bit.’

‘Well, the kettle’s on the hob, and the water’s good and hot. I’ll bring it up and leave it outside your door.’

‘Thank you very much, but I’ll come down and get it.’

‘Well, that’ll save my old hip. Would you like a cup of tea or something before you go? And maybe a nice little cheese sandwich? Just to keep you going.’

‘Thank you, I would.’ Lily was glad of the invitation; there was news she had to give to Mrs Thorne. ‘Though I mustn’t be late,’ she added.

Up in her small room she wasted no time but tore open the envelope and took out Tom’s letter. He had written:

So, at last, after all this time he was coming back. He’d be leaving today. Another fortnight or so, and they would meet. She folded the letter and put it back in the envelope.

Having fetched up the hot water from the kitchen, Lily washed away the dust from the warm day and then changed into her second-best dress, the dark blue cotton, observing as she did so that it was showing its age. No matter, she had not the money at present for new clothes, and with her employment with the Acland children coming to an end, she must needs watch her spending. The little she had would not last for long.

When she was ready she went downstairs into the kitchen where Mrs Thorne had laid out the tea things.

‘Good news from your brother?’ Mrs Thorne asked as Lily came in.

‘Yes,’ Lily said. ‘He’s coming back to Wiltshire. He’s leaving London today. He should be here in a week.’

‘Oh, well, that’s very nice,’ Mrs Thorne said. She moved towards the range where the kettle was singing.

Lily watched the older woman as she busied herself, and in no time the tea was made. Mrs Thorne had also put out a plate of thinly-cut cheese sandwiches and another with a fruit cake that she had baked that day. Lily declined the cake, but gratefully took a sandwich. As she ate and drank she gave her landlady the news that her post at the Aclands’ was soon to come to an end, and that she must at once start to look for other employment. It would, she added, almost certainly mean that she would also have to give up her
lodgings. Mrs Thorne sighed and said sadly, yes, she was aware of that, and added that she would be very sorry to see Lily go.

When Lily’s plate and cup were empty she thanked Mrs Thorne and got up to leave. She would see her tomorrow evening, she said, on her return from Sherrell.

Six minutes after reaching Little Patten station she was on the train and heading for Corster.

On her arrival she set off through the main part of the town towards its edge. Twenty minutes’ walk brought her to the river where she crossed at the narrow old bridge and, at the saddlery on the corner, turned into Brookham Way. There she saw ahead of her the two narrow houses, numbers one and two Merridew Villas, owned by Miss Elsie.

Regularly every fortnight, for well over two years now, Lily had been calling on the two elderly tenants of the dwellings, collecting the rent on Miss Elsie’s behalf. Miss Elsie, begrudging a rent-collector’s commission, had used to do it herself, but since Lily had offered to take over the task it had become an accepted responsibility.

She had come to know the tenants during her fortnightly visits, and it had become her custom to take tea with them, turn and turn about. This pattern was going to change, though, for soon one of the tenants, Mrs Callinthrop, would be going to live with her daughter in another part of the town. It was Mrs Callinthrop on whom she called first this Saturday, and when the rent business had been concluded she drank a cup of tea with the old lady and then went next door to see the other tenant, Mrs Tanner. With more tea politely declined and the rest of her business done, Lily stayed for a while to chat, then said her goodbyes and set off back towards the town centre.

The streets were busy. At a corner shop she stopped to buy copies of two local newspapers, and then continued on, eventually coming to the Victoria Gardens. The entrance
was set at the rear of a paved courtyard with benches, a fountain and a horse-trough. One of the benches was vacant, and she sat down on it, facing out across the busy street towards the corn exchange and the museum. The day seemed not overly warm now, and there was a gentle breeze that was pleasantly cooling. From her bag she took one of the newspapers.

The main news on the front page of the
Wiltshire Echo
concerned a case of murder that had taken place in a nearby village, while there was also a report of three cases of smallpox in the town of Redbury. Lily moved on through the pages to those bearing the classified advertisements. In the column listing ‘Situations Vacant’, there was only one for a governess locally. That was in Little Wickenham, some distance off to the south of Corster. Lily determined that she would write after it over the weekend.

As she sat there, idly watching the carriages moving back and forth and the townspeople going about their business, there came drifting on the air the sound of music. It was coming from the park behind her, from the bandstand. A military march was being played. The sound was stirring and full of vitality as the brass rang out and the drums reverberated on the summer air. With its sound, Lily was transported back to that summer in Whitton when she and Joel had sat in the park while the brass band had played: those summer afternoons, when they had sat by the pond; when he had sketched her portrait; when they had watched the Punch and Judy show; when he bought for her the little spray of linen flowers. She could see the different scenes and images as if they had come from yesterday. She could still hear the murmuring voices and the bursts of laughter that had rung out from the other people out there in the sun. And she and Joel had been among them, caught up only in their feelings, and their growing discovery of one another.