Orphans of War (38 page)

‘Do you mind?’ yelled Piers. ‘We’re not finished yet! Mads, keep your pose.’

‘We’ll send you the medical bill if she catches pneumonia,’ Bella yelled back, unimpressed. ‘Slave driver…See you later, darling!’

Maddy had stayed up at Foxup before. She hadn’t gone to Bella’s wedding, making a feeble excuse. She’d not been feeling sociable for months but she’d asked Plum to find some beautiful skin fleeces and they’d sent them as a gift. Bella had written back to ask her over for a weekend to meet Alexander and somehow they’d stayed in touch. The house was a huge pile of grey stones and inside was as cold as a Frigidaire, full of grand furniture, portraits and stag horns on shields. It was twice the size of Brooklyn Hall but the family always made her welcome.

Bella’s brother, Morgan, was just out of the army and a bit of a handful. He and Alex spent every waking hour under the bonnet of some fast roadster. Bella and Alex tried to make them a foursome but Maddy found him a bit of a buffoon; anything on four legs or four wheels and he was off boring for England. Now they had made part of the forest a time-trial track for rally teams.

It was funny how out of all the girls at Yorkshire Ladies’, the two friends who’d stuck were Bella and Pinky, the farmer’s wife. Thelma and Ruth had never forgiven her for running out of the Hebron Hall meeting: ‘You’ve sold your soul to a worldly occupation. How can you parade yourself in peacock’s finery when half the world is starving?’

There was no easy answer to that but she was earning her own living, paying her way, and it kept her away from Sowerthwaite.

She needed no excuse to stay away from Brooklyn Hall as reminders of her secret shame hit her whenever she walked out of the station and smelled that fresh damp Dales air.

Gloria was still being cool and disinterested in her travels. Aunt Plum was full of how former evacuees had returned to see her. Big Bryan Partridge was now in the army and had roared up the avenue in a Jeep with his friends to show them where he’d spent the war.

Walking up the Avenue of Tears to Brooklyn brought back such painful memories. She hated going back, but tomorrow she must brace herself and make a special effort, snow or not.

Now she was too weary and chilled to protest when the housekeeper, Mrs Pilling, ran her a bath in the great roll-top tub and brought her a hot toddy of whisky, lemon and hot water on a silver tray.

‘Her ladyship’s orders,’ she smiled. ‘Get that down you. Dinner is at eight.’

Luckily Maddy had her best woollen two-piece in her overnight bag, which was otherwise full of accessories for the shoot. A mannequin needed to have gloves, scarves, bits to dress up the clothes if the dresser’s stuff was boring or plain awful. At least she had her Shetland wool spencer, light as gossamer, to wear as an extra vest. She had a paisley cashmere shawl that had belonged to Grandma, which wrapped round like a blanket and kept the draughts from howling up her skirts. It was a night for Gran’s pearls too.

Lady Foxup was wrapped in a white fox fur stole, Bella wore a fancy plaid jacket and Alex wore tweeds. The fire was lit but it usually made no impact on them sitting round the table. The best was to hope that one of the dogs took a fancy to her and warmed her feet under the table.

‘Will you take the horses out tomorrow after church?’ Bella’s mother turned to the girls.

Maddy shook her head. ‘I must get back. It’s Aunt Plum’s birthday tomorrow, we’re having a special tea.’

‘I was meaning to ask you about your aunt Plum. Was she, by any chance, a Templeton? Prunella Templeton of Underby Hall?’

‘Yes,’ Maddy smiled, her soup spoon pausing in the air.

‘Good Lord! Prunes and Custard…We came out together. Tell her Totty Featherstone was asking after her. She married Sir Jasper, didn’t she?’

‘No…Gerald.’

‘The same,’ grinned Totty Foxup. ‘We used to call him Sir Jasper. N.S.I.T–not safe in taxis! How are they getting on?’

‘Fine. Uncle Gerald works down in London most of the time.’ Maddy hesitated, not wanting to give too much away.

‘Do tell her to ring me and we’ll have lunch. What a hoot, Prunes and Custard being your aunt.’

The soup, made of indeterminable vegetables, was followed by roast lamb, then stewed fruit cobbler and cream: rib-sticking fare that warmed her through.

‘I’ve invited my rally cronies back for drinks, a bit of a party,’ Morgan said, smiling across the table at Maddy. ‘No bones broken this time but one of the chaps is a bit dazed. They’re down in the kitchen warming up. Pilling’s doing a grand job keeping them entertained and sorting out their boots. We’ll put the gramophone in the billiard room and they can have a bit of a singsong. Car’s a write-off, by the way,’ Morgan added. ‘An MG roadster, all souped up. Pity…some chaps from Leeds or Harrogate, new recruits. You girls must come and meet them all, chivvy them up.’

Maddy groaned, wanting to go to bed to be ready for an early start in the morning, but she was their guest so must oblige.

There was a bunch of guys hugging the fire in the billiard room, some faces she’d seen before, regular
chums of Morgan’s, standing in steaming socks and leathers, sipping from crystal glasses and looking awkward.

Morgan did his best to introduce them all. ‘That’s poor Charlie–father owns a string of garages, and his co-driver over there. This is their first time and they’re a bit brassed off, losing their car like that. Silly mistake, eh, lads?’ Morgan was off round the room, trying to make everyone at ease.

Maddy recognised the tall young man in black leathers who’d shot out of the wood to raise the alarm. Without his helmet and gear he was handsome in a rugged Yorkshire sort of way, she thought, rough round the edges and looked you straight in the eye.

He was staring round at the panelled walls, the trophies and swords. There was something about his stance, his eyes, something familiar. Was it a trick of the firelight on that shock of fair hair, those lean features? Something about him tapped into old memories but she just couldn’t place him. It was a pity he’d not given his name but better not to embarrass him by singling him out in front of the others.

‘Now I want you to meet my friend Madeleine,’ Bella suddenly announced above the clatter. ‘She’s the poor soul trying to sell fur coats out of our driveway when you lot interrupted the proceedings, Mr Afton. Rallying can be a dangerous game but that’s what it’s all about, isn’t it?’

Maddy caught the driver eyeing her up with interest. She walked over in his direction. ‘Hello, I’m Madeleine,’ she smiled. She smelled the whisky fumes on his breath.
He’d been knocking them back. ‘I hope your friend is recovering.’

He laughed. ‘I knew a Madeleine once, long time back.’

Charlie Afton rose to greet her. ‘You never told me about that one, Greg. Watch him, miss.’

Maddy was searching his face with renewed interest. ‘Greg?…Not Gregory Byrne?’

‘Who’s asking?’ he replied, as light bulbs of recognition went on in both their eyes. ‘Not…Maddy Belfield of Brooklyn Hall? You were the girl in the fur coat freezing down on the drive. Maddy? I don’t believe it. How’s everyone? Mrs Plum and Gloria and old Mr Batty…? Surely not? This is Maddy, one of the evacuees I was telling you about, Charlie. Maddy, is it really you?’

‘I’m afraid so. I knew you were in Leeds. Gloria told me.’ They shook hands, laughing. Maddy drank him in with relish. ‘It’s incredible! After all these years…’

‘You are now speaking to Byrne Bespoke Builders Inc,’ Charlie interrupted. ‘He’ll give you his card given half a chance,’ he laughed. ‘And he wrote off my MG this afternoon.’

‘Ah, that’s definitely the Greg I remember. Tell Charlie about the motor bike on battery field. I can’t believe it’s really you, and here of all places.’

‘It’s a bit grand for the likes of us,’ Greg said, Charlie nodded.

‘And me too,’ Maddy smiled. ‘But Bella’s my friend from college. We borrowed her grounds for the shots.
I work for Marshfields store. As you saw, I was nearly frozen to the spot.’

Greg stood before her, rough hewn, broader, but still the same straw hair parted neatly, and those electric-blue eyes flashed. Suddenly the rest of the room faded into a blur as the noise in the crowd silenced and she stood fixed to the spot. It was as if all the lights in the room were turned off and just the spotlight surrounded them. How strange on a freezing winter’s night to feel such a warm glow, such a sense of peace. It was Greg, her old friend, but when she looked at him it was not friendship she was feeling but that strange excitement she once felt for Dieter.

Greg stared down at Maddy as she circled around the room, no longer a lanky schoolgirl with a turn in her eye but this slender, elegant vision in lavender. How strange that their paths had crossed once more. How strange to find her in here, in this barn of a mansion–but then why not? This was her world, after all–a private education, a finishing school, county friends, horses–a world away from his tough building sites. This was not where he’d expected to spend his Saturday night. To think, he’d nearly done a bunk to the nearest pub.

Charlie’s rally cronies were a wealthy lot and thought nothing of racing all over the county over borrowed land, cadging hospitality where they could. Now they were waiting for the garage to bring out a towing truck to get the roadster back to dock. It looked a crumpled
mess but there was just a chance the big end had not gone for a burton.

When he was nervous Greg drank too much, gulped too fast on an empty stomach. He’d met Arabella once before. She was OK but he couldn’t stand the usual toffee-nosed ‘gals’ who’d never done a day’s work in their lives, poring over the sports cars in the garage, feigning interest, draping their long legs in and out of the seats, knowing that they looked good. They were all the same and made him nervous. Coming to Foxup Hall was a first, and he felt out of his depth with all this old money and grandeur, but they’d made them all welcome.

Now he felt such a scruff in these old cords and jumper. He was so busy ploughing money back into his business that he never bothered to put it on his back like Charlie and the others. But Maddy seemed genuinely pleased to see him, so warm and so welcoming. His heart skipped a beat at the sight of her.

Could this really be his old mate? How could that skinny kid become the perfect princess of his dreams, handed to him on a plate by the fates, the sort of girl he’d always wanted to find? All his firm resolutions crumbled at the sight of her. Just one look was all it took to hear himself mutter under his breath, ‘I’m going to marry that girl.’

Then icy reality gripped him. Why should she look twice at a scruff like him, a jumped-up labourer with nothing to offer but hopes and in uncertainties. He was not in a position to court a princess, especially
one who’d known him since he was in short pants. It wasn’t part of his plan. She’d come too soon into his life and yet…For once he was gobsmacked by the coincidence.

‘What a beauty!’ Charlie whispered. ‘Blimey, I’d go for her myself but she seems to be eyeing you up with interest. So go for it!’

‘I can’t…not yet.’ Greg hesitated. All sorts of obstacles flashed before him: lack of money, a decent car, his rough callused hands, not even a decent suit to his name. How could he even think of it?

‘Don’t be a fool. Take your chance or it might not come again. Morgan Foxup is hovering over her like a vulture and I never took you for a coward.’

Greg felt sick as he strode up behind Maddy. He straightened his collar, slicked his hands through his hair and swallowed hard, trying to look casual.

‘Now that we’ve met up again there’s so much to catch up on. Are you around tomorrow? We could go for a walk. It looks as if it will stay fine. I’ll be staying here until we sort out the car.’

‘Pity,’ she smiled. ‘I’ve got to go back to Brooklyn. It’s Aunt Plum’s birthday and I can’t miss it again.’ They both paused with a kind of sigh. ‘There’s not a chance you could come too?’ she asked. ‘It’ll be a lovely surprise for her, and you’d see everybody then. I’m going by train but you could come on, later.’

Greg knew that he ought to go and check the brickwork on the building site, but it was a Sunday and they weren’t allowed to work then. Charlie’s car was a wreck, however, and it was going to be difficult to get transport.

‘I’ll try,’ he said, ‘but now I know you’re in Leeds, perhaps we could meet up again.’

She looked at him and smiled. ‘Of course, but I’m here, there and everywhere where the work is.’ Maddy scribbled her address on the back of an envelope she’d pulled from her handbag. Then she turned away to circulate again among the other drivers, glancing at him from time to time, while he stared like a tailor’s dummy, transfixed by this unexpected meeting. He just had to get to Brooklyn tomorrow. There was only one thing for it. Grabbing another drink, he shoved it in Charlie’s hand.

‘Can I ask you the most almighty favour?’

Charlie had already read his mind. ‘Just get that wreck back to the garage first. Never let it be said I stood in the way of true love.’

Gloria hugged her secret to herself on the train back to Bradford on her day off.

Was it only three weeks ago since she’d followed her hunch, knowing the photographer’s card was burning a hole in her handbag? She’d taken extra care with her appearance, rolled up her curls, bathed and powdered her white skin, dressed with care, polished her shoes for the interview.