The Fleethaven Trilogy (141 page)

Ella finished the sentence for her. ‘You mean, you don’t
think she would let you know if he were ill?’

Miserably, Peggy nodded. ‘I know they’ll have been
busy with the main harvest now, but it’s never stopped
him writing regularly before.’

Ella thought and then said, ‘I could ring Uncle Danny
tonight, just to put your mind at rest.’

Peggy’s worried brow cleared. ‘Oh, thank you, Ella.’

‘Ella, love. How lovely to hear you.’ Danny’s voice came
clearly down the wire, so familiar, so warm, that Ella felt
the tears spring to her eyes. They had every right, she
thought suddenly, to be resentful of the way she had just
walked away from them all, and yet there had never been
one word of reproach.

Except, of course, that her gran’s continued silence was
a constant rebuke.

‘Uncle Danny, are they all right?’

‘Ya gran and grandpa?’

‘Yes.’

There was a slight pause and Ella held her breath, her
heart thumping suddenly.

‘Well, I think so. I saw ya gran yesterday, though I
haven’t seen ya grandpa for a while.’ Again he paused.

‘Did she say he was all right?’

‘Oh yes, I always ask after him, Ella.’ There was another
pause and then his words came haltingly, as if he didn’t
want to make it sound like an accusation. ‘Of course, the work’s a bit heavy for them now. The farm’s not quite as
well looked after as it used to be. We try to help out when
we can, me an’ Rob, but she’s a stubborn old goat. Too
proud to accept a bit of help, that’s her trouble.’ He
laughed. ‘Don’t worry, Ella love. I’ll keep an eye on
them . . .’

At the end of September, when the three months’ temporary
trial period in the solicitors’ office was nearly
up, the senior partner called Ella into his office one
morning and told her that they would extend her employment
for a further three months but only on a temporary
basis.

‘I don’t feel able to make your position permanent yet,
Miss Hilton. Although the quality of your work is excellent
and you work hard . . .’ He paused and steepled his bony
fingers together, rocking backwards in his swivel chair. ‘I
am a little concerned about your, well, your manner
towards our clients. You seem a little abrupt at times. You
should try to cultivate a more deferential manner towards
them. Now, I suggest you take next week off to think
things over. If you are prepared to try a little harder, then
start back with us, let me see . . . yes, on Monday, the
tenth of October.’

Ella stared at the man in front of her and sighed
inwardly. She bit back the retort that sprang to her lips.
She’d stick it another month, she told herself, but, although
she didn’t say so, she found the work boring, the staff dull
and far too staid and as for the clients, well! She could
imagine her gran’s comments about some of the complaints
and problems that came through the office door.

‘A hard day’s work’d sort most of ’em out,’ she could imagine being Esther’s appraisal. ‘Pity they ain’t got something
better to think about!’

Standing before the joyless face of her employer, Ella
had difficulty in keeping the smile from her mouth.

‘The old buzzard’s given me the week off to “think things
over”,’ she told Peggy, her tone heavy with sarcasm. ‘I
think I’ll go to York on Wednesday until Sunday. Will you
be all right?’ she added, watching Peggy huddle closer to
the fire and pull a shawl around her shoulders.

Peggy sneezed, dabbed at her already bright nose and
said, ‘Yes, of course I’ll be all right. It’s only a cold.’

‘I know,’ Ella said, ‘but it is a stinker.’

Peggy smiled weakly. ‘That’s why I thought I’d better
stay off work. Customers get very upset if you breathe
germs all over them.’

‘I can imagine!’

By the Wednesday, Peggy’s cold was no better and she
had decided to take the rest of the week off work. ‘I’ve
only had about three weeks’ illness in all the years I’ve
been there, but I still feel guilty staying away.’

‘You’ve got a nasty cough,’ Ella said putting her suitcase
down for a moment while she gave Peggy a swift hug.
‘You’d be much better keeping warm for another day or
two.’

Peggy sniffed miserably. She was hardly ever ill and did
not make a good patient.

Ella bit her lip. ‘Are you sure you’ll be all right. Perhaps
I’d better not go . . .’

Peggy flapped her hands at Ella and said again, ‘It’s only
a cold. I’ll be fine. You’d better go. You’ll miss your train
and your father will be meeting you . . .’

‘All right, then,’ Ella agreed.

Peggy forced a smile and added, ‘Have a good time.’

Over dinner that evening she told her father and grandmother
about her job in the solicitors’ office. ‘It’s so solemn
all the time. I think I’m going to start looking for something
else when I get back.’

‘Your father will find you a job here in York, won’t
you, Philip?’ her grandmother said across the table, waving
her hand as if the fact were already accomplished. ‘I’m
sure you’re owed a few favours. All these committees
you’re asked to serve on.’

Smiling, he said, ‘If it’s what Ella would like.’

‘Of course it’s what she’d like.’

‘Now, Mother,’ he said gently and winked at Ella, ‘no
trying to organize the girl’s life.’

‘As if I would!’ she said indignantly, and then turned to
Ella. ‘Now tomorrow morning we’re going shopping. We’ll
have lunch in town because I’ve booked you in at the
hairdresser’s tomorrow afternoon at two. Martin is calling
for you at seven and taking you out to dinner. Won’t that
be nice?’

Ella dared not glance at her father for fear she would
laugh aloud. Instead, she said dutifully, ‘Yes,
Grandmother.’

At seven thirty, Ella found herself being ushered into a
smart restaurant by Martin Hughes. She gazed around in
amazement at the thick, wall-to-wall carpet, the tables set
with pink cloths, a small vase of fresh flowers in the centre
of each one. Sparkling crystal chandeliers hung from the
ornate ceiling and fancy scalloped drapes covered the windows. A black-suited waiter with a crisp white shirt
and black bow tie bowed deferentially and showed them
to a secluded corner table for two.

‘I thought we’d be more private here,’ Martin said.
‘There’s something I want to ask you.’

‘Oh. Really? What?’

Martin was smiling, his eyes large behind the thick
lenses of his spectacles. When he looked at her, with her
new hair-style and pretty clothes, not to mention the use
of make-up to hide the birthmark, Ella could see the
admiration in his eyes.

‘Not so fast,’ he said. ‘We’ll eat first. Besides, I’ve got to
pluck up courage.’

Ella’s eyes widened and she felt a strange fluttering in
her stomach. When Martin asked, ‘Shall I order for us
both?’ all she could do was nod.

As they pushed away their empty dessert plates, the
hovering wine-waiter filled their glasses.

‘Coffee, sir?’

‘Yes, please. And two brandies.’

‘Certainly, sir.’ He gave a little bow and returned in a
moment bearing two fat glasses with a measure of amber
liquid in each.

Martin picked up his glass and raised it towards Ella.
‘To us,’ he said.

‘Us?’

He nodded and smiled. ‘Your grandmother tells me
you’re coming to live in York. I – er – hope we can see a
lot more of each other.’

Ella gaped at him for a moment and then dropped her
glance from his earnest gaze. She twirled the brandy glass
on the table between fingers that threatened to tremble
slightly. She knew he liked her, enjoyed her company, but
now he was hinting that he wanted more. She was too honest to let him think she would ever be his girlfriend. He
was nice, she liked him, but not in that way; never, ever,
could she love Martin. Not while she was still in love with
Rob Eland.

She said carefully, ‘I am thinking about taking a job
here, yes, because I’m not too happy in the one I’ve got at
the moment, but nothing’s settled yet . . .’

Martin laughed. ‘Oh, I think you can count on it being
a
fait accompli
, if your grandmother has anything to do
with it.’

Ella felt her jaw tightening, feeling as if her life were
being organized for her. She had run away from Fleethaven
Point from one autocratic grandmother and now she
seemed to have found another.

‘Martin, I . . .’ she began, but out of the corner of her
eye, she caught sight of the waiter hurrying from table to
table, bending to ask a question of each of the diners.
Answered by a shake of heads, he moved swiftly to the
next table and the next. Now he was approaching their
table. ‘Excuse me, sir . . .’ his glance went from Martin to
Ella, ‘is your name Miss Hilton?’

‘Yes.’

‘Ah, we’ve received a telephone call from your father.
He asked if you could go home at once.’

Ella was already on her feet and pushing back her chair
as the waiter grasped it to pull it back for her. Martin,
rising more slowly, asked, ‘Did he say why?’

The man shook his head. ‘No, sir. But it did sound
urgent. I’ll get your coat for you, Miss.’

Ella turned fearful eyes to Martin. ‘It must be Grandmother.
Perhaps she’s been taken ill.’

Martin took hold of her arm and steered her between
the tables. ‘Come on, I’ll take you home at once.’

But it was Mrs Trent who opened the front door to them. ‘Your father’s in his study, dear. Go in to him. He’s
on the telephone . . .’

Ella ran across the hall, the carpet in the centre sliding
on the polished floor beneath her hurrying feet.

‘Dad? What is it?’

He turned to look at her as she opened the door. Then
he said into the mouthpiece, ‘She’s here now. Hold on a
moment while I tell her.’

He covered the mouthpiece with his hand and then said,
‘Ella, my dear. I’ve got Danny Eland on the phone . . .’

Ella gave a little cry and her eyes widened. ‘No, oh no,’
she breathed and reached out with shaking fingers, ‘please,
let me speak to him.’

Philip handed her the receiver and, with a voice that
quavered, she said, ‘Uncle Danny, what is it? What’s
happened? Is it Gran? Or – or Grandpa?’ Her questions
were tumbling over themselves without giving Danny
chance to reply.

‘Steady on, lass,’ came his calming voice. ‘It’s not the
worst, but ya grandpa’s ill.’

‘How ill?’ Her voice was high-pitched with anxiety
and a feeling of dreadful guilt washed over her. Peggy had
been right to be worried and Ella had ignored the older
woman’s intuition. Oh, if something were to happen to
Grandpa, she’d never forgive herself. Never . . . She tried
to pull her reeling senses together, made herself listen to
Danny.

‘Ya gran’s kept it from us all. She kept telling us they
were both fine but then I started to get a bit worried
because I never seemed to see ya grandpa; not in the fields
nor about the yard. So I went across and tackled her about
it. Ella, love, he’s been poorly for about a month, but your
gran’s that stubborn. She’s nursing him herself. She won’t
have the doctor, won’t even let any of us near him. We’re trying to help out more with the farm work now, but she’s
still insisting that she doesn’t need anyone. Ella, I don’t
think she’s right herself. She’s – she’s . . .’ The words came
hesitantly and Ella knew instinctively that even now Danny
was reluctant to say anything against Esther. ‘She seems
sort of – wild.’

‘Cross, you mean?’ Ella prompted.

The voice on the other end of the wire faded and
crackling on the line broke up his words. ‘No, no, more
that she can’t cope . . . Please come home, Ella. They need
you, lass. And we – we all miss you . . .’

Tears were rolling down her cheeks, the lump in her
throat choking the words. ‘I’m coming, Uncle Danny. I’m
coming. Right now!’

She caught the first train out of York on the following
morning, the Friday. Her father took her to the station.

‘I’m sure it won’t be as bad as you fear,’ he tried
to reassure her. ‘Come back and see us as soon as you
can.’

She’d hugged him fiercely unable to make any promises,
unsure just how long it would be before she saw him or
her grandmother again.

Mrs Trent had refused to believe that it was anything
but a temporary set-back to her plans for Ella. ‘Don’t
forget,’ had been her parting words, ‘we want you to come
and live with us. I’ve organized the decorators to re-do
your bedroom. They’re starting tomorrow. Pink, I thought,
with curtains and bedspread to match. Yes, a pretty, soft
pink . . .’

*

Peggy, still coughing and with her nose sore and peeling,
opened the door. Without preamble she said, ‘Danny rang
Rita and I gave him your father’s number.’

Ella nodded. ‘I came back as soon as I could. I’m going
straight on home . . .’ She stared at Peggy, her eyes startled
with the realization of what she had just said.

Peggy, though the worry in her eyes had deepened,
nodded slowly, and quietly she answered the unspoken
question that lay in the air between them. ‘My dear girl,
although your head has always rebelled against it, in your
heart of hearts, you know it is your home.’

Ella flung her arms about her. ‘Oh, Aunty Peg, I’m so
sorry. I should have listened to you. I should have known
there was something wrong.’

‘Now, don’t be silly and start blaming yourself. How
could you possibly have known?’ Peggy said sensibly, and
hugged the girl warmly.

‘
You
seemed to know though, didn’t you? That’s why
you were so worried when his letters were late and when
his writing looked funny.’

Peggy sighed. ‘I thought I was fussing unnecessarily.’

‘Well, you weren’t and now I wish I’d taken it more
seriously.’

‘Never mind that now. Get yourself ready. You’re in
good time to catch the six o’clock bus out.’

As Ella hurried upstairs to unpack and repack her
suitcase, Peggy followed her. ‘I wish I could come with
you, but this cold’s gone on my chest. I went to the doctor
this morning and he said on no account must I go out for
a few days. Perhaps if I—’