Читать книгу The Cavendon Luck - Barbara Bradford Taylor - Страница 18

Daphne had fallen in love with the Villa Fleurir on Lake Zurich the first time she saw it, just over twenty-four years ago. Hugo had taken her to Paris for their honeymoon and then they had travelled on to Switzerland where they had stayed for some time.

The villa was spacious, with large rooms flowing into each other, and all of the colours used were soft, muted: cream and white, pale pink and peach, and the lightest of blues.

It was an airy and welcoming place; there was a certain informality about the house and its furnishings which Daphne had never changed, loving its sense of ease and comfort.

Mellow antiques were placed here and there in most of the rooms, intermingled with large, comfortable sofas and chairs covered in lovely fabrics, and there were beautiful paintings on the walls. All these furnishings enhanced the rooms, gave them a certain familiar look, but the villa was by no means decorated in a full-blown traditional style, which frequently looked far too stiff to Daphne.

Its informality had led her to create a more casual way of living over the years, especially after more of their children had been born, and everyone loved staying at the villa – be it in summer or winter – because of this. Cavendon was their home, but with a great house came a responsibility and expectations of certain standards. Over the years the villa had become the holiday home for Daphne and Hugo and their children, and other members of the family as well. Daphne’s father, the 6th Earl, had spent his honeymoon here with Charlotte Swann and had been captivated by its beauty and tranquillity.

The main reception rooms opened on to a large garden that swept down to the lake, and the views were spectacular. Hugo, who had bought the villa long before his marriage to Daphne, had never wanted to sell it, and had hung on to it even when financial problems loomed. He had always understood that Villa Fleurir was a wonderful place to escape to and relax in, and also to enjoy the natural beauty surrounding the house, and the ancient town of Zurich, which had great charm.

The one room Daphne had changed was a small sitting room which opened off the library. She had eventually taken this for herself. By adding a desk she had instantly made it into an office. As long as she had a safe place for her papers, and a spot in which to work, she was happy.

On this sunny morning in the first week of August, she sat at the desk, going over the household books. Having run Cavendon for years for her father, she had become accustomed to checking everything, including the money spent at the villa. Satisfied she was within her budget, she closed the last book, and sat back in her chair.

When she had first married Hugo, Hans and Hilde Bauer had run the house with great efficiency, keeping everything shipshape and running well. Their son Bruno, his wife Anna, and two maids who came in daily, had taken over after Hans had retired. If anything, the son was better than the father, but Daphne always kept that thought to herself. And Anna was the best cook, but Hilda had equalled her. They were lucky to have the Bauers to take care of them.

Getting up from the desk, she walked out into the foyer and hurried through the drawing room, making for the door leading to the garden. She stood on the threshold of the French doors, shading her eyes in the bright sunlight, and spotted her daughter Alicia sitting in the gazebo at the end of the lawn. Glancing around, she realized the house was still, very quiet for once. Everyone had disappeared except for Alicia.

Daphne walked down to the gazebo, admiring the grounds as she moved towards the lake ahead of her. The flowers were magnificent, making the garden breathtaking this year. Everything had bloomed so well, and fortunately at the right time.

Alicia looked up when she saw her mother standing next to her and smiled at Daphne.

Her mother bent down and kissed her cheek, and sat next to her. ‘Where is everyone, darling? Have they all gone out?’

‘No, not at all. Cecily is upstairs in their bedroom. She told me she has work to do. And some telephoning, checking on her business, I’ve no doubt. Charlie is in his room writing. My father went to a meeting and took Miles with him. He said they would be back in time for lunch, and not to worry about them being late.’

Daphne laughed. ‘Your father’s hardly ever late, bless him.’

‘I’m glad Cecily and Miles are here, Mummy,’ Alicia said. ‘I thought she looked tired. They both did. But Cecily seemed tenser.’

‘I know what you mean. I noticed that myself when they arrived on Tuesday night. But a few days here and she seems to be more at ease, don’t you think?’

‘It’s the house, you know, everyone sort of collapses here. And they become soft and unworried and genial. I guess I’m right about that.’

Daphne laughed. ‘I know you are. They let go, actually. So, have you made a decision, Alicia? Are you going to join your brothers at the Bowens’ in the south of France or not?’

Alicia shook her head. ‘No, I’m not, Mummy. I’m going to go home to Cavendon next Monday, actually. I want to prepare for work, for September, which is when Felix and Constance will be back. I had a note from him yesterday, and he says they will take me on as a client.’

‘I’m so glad, darling!’ Daphne exclaimed. ‘They’re the best; they will do well for you. And it won’t do you any harm as an actress to be the niece of one of England’s greatest actors.’

There was a sudden commotion, laughter and masculine voices echoing in the air. Daphne stopped talking and glanced behind her. So did Alicia, who exclaimed, ‘It’s Papa, Miles and Charlie. But what on earth are they doing?’

Daphne shook her head. ‘I’ve no idea. However, I do see a pair of ladies’ shoes peeping out from behind their collective trouser legs.’

‘Oh, it’s Cecily, obviously! They must be teasing her about something,’ Alicia volunteered. ‘They’re certainly joking around a lot.’

It was Charlie, Daphne’s eldest son, who began to march down the garden path, raising his arms, moving his hands gracefully, like a conductor commanding a huge orchestra. He sang out, ‘Ta da! Ta da! Ta da!’

At that moment Cecily appeared on the scene. She came through the French doors and on to the terrace, walking over to the men.

Alicia said, ‘Oh, they must be hiding someone else, Mummy. Whoever could it be?’

‘I don’t have a clue,’ Daphne answered and stood up, moved out of the gazebo, staring at the terrace. Instantly she knew who it was and her heart lifted with a flare of happiness. There was only one person in the world who had those gorgeous legs, now fully visible in very high heels.

‘Hey there! Don’t hide behind those silly men!’ she called out. ‘I know it’s you because of your legs and your shoes, Diedre.’

Hugo, who was well aware that very little ever surprised his darling wife, stepped to one side, and so did Miles, allowing Diedre to run down the path and into Daphne’s outstretched arms.

Cecily, who stood next to Miles, was wondering why Diedre was in Zurich? Was she here with news for her? Cecily dismissed that idea at once. It was far too soon for news. It was only last Friday, just a week ago today, that she had first spoken to Diedre about Greta’s problem. Maybe Diedre had just wanted a chance to relax for a few days away from Cavendon, needing new scenery, a little respite from the family.

Cecily knew how hard she worked, and how involved she was with her job at the War Office. Not that she ever said a word. She could not, presumably because she was bound by the secrecy laws of the country. If she was working in Intelligence. None of them knew a thing about her job; she had never been talkative about her life in London before her marriage to Paul. Nor after she returned to work in 1935.

The two sisters clung to each other for a moment or two. They had become closer than ever over the last nine years, working together through the family troubles and travails, and especially after Paul had died so suddenly. Diedre had been felled by the most terrible grief, had relied on her, Cecily and DeLacy. They had each helped as much as they could, been there for her when sorrow threatened to overcome her.

Finally stepping apart, they grinned at each other. ‘You’re a sight for sore eyes,’ Daphne said. ‘Welcome, Diedre darling. I’m so happy to see you.’

Before Diedre could respond, Hugo cut in, ‘I couldn’t believe it when we arrived back at the villa and Miles was shouting, “Look what the wind’s blown in”, and there was Diedre standing just in front of us, paying off a taxi.’

Diedre turned to her sister, and said, ‘The thing is this, Daphne. I had to go to Geneva on Wednesday night. I was surprised at how well it all went on Thursday, and it struck me how close I was to Zurich. And I suddenly wanted to be with all of you, spend a few days here. And I decided just to come and surprise you without even phoning.’

‘And we’re glad you did,’ Miles said. ‘You’re a wonderful surprise.’

‘It’s lovely to have you, Diedre,’ Cecily murmured warmly, and went to kiss her sister-in-law on the cheek.

Diedre gave Cecily a very direct look. Their eyes locked and the knowing glance they exchanged said everything. Say nothing.

Daphne slipped her arm through Hugo’s. ‘Let’s go to the terrace and have cold drinks before lunch. It’s getting quite hot out here.’ Glancing at him, she added, ‘Anna and Bruno know Diedre is here, don’t they?’

‘Oh, yes. Bruno took Diedre’s suitcase up to her room, and he said he would tell Anna to set another place at the table.’

Daphne nodded and started up along the path with her husband, the others following behind.

The long terrace at the back of the villa, facing the lake and the mountains, was actually a roofed gallery in the form of a loggia, the roof offering shade and protection, and the open ends allowing air to flow freely. It was usually cool even on the warmest of days, and the family always ate lunch here in the summer, and often dinner as well.

The seven of them sat down in white basket-weave armchairs, which surrounded a glass-and-iron table. As they were settling themselves, Bruno arrived with a tray of glasses and a large crystal jug of lemonade. After serving them, he turned to Daphne and murmured, ‘When would you like luncheon to be served, my lady?’

‘In about half an hour, Bruno, thank you.’

He nodded and took his leave.

Charlie said, ‘Do you often get to Geneva, Aunt Diedre?’

‘Only occasionally, Charlie. Why do you ask?’

‘I was just curious. Also, I thought you should consider dropping in more often, don’t you agree, Mama?’

‘I do indeed, but your aunt has Robin to think of, you know, and he spends the summers at Cavendon, which is where we’ll usually find Diedre. At his side, being a good mother.’

‘Maybe I’ll bring him over here again for a few days,’ Diedre interjected. ‘He’s always enjoyed himself when we stayed, and especially with you, Charlie. Thank you for spending time with him and making him feel special and, most importantly, grown up.’

‘He’s a fabulous boy. When I talk to him and listen to his answers to my questions, and look into his eyes, I can’t help thinking he’s been here before, that he’s an old soul.’

Diedre nodded. ‘I think he is.’ She paused for a moment. ‘He misses his father, and you’ve sort of filled the breach during the holidays. He adores you, Charlie, and you’ve given him the writing bug. He told me last weekend that he wants to be a journalist, like you’re going to be after Oxford.’

‘I did encourage him. I hope you’re not upset.’

‘No, not at all.’

Changing the subject and looking across at Miles, Charlie now said, ‘Talking of journalism, I’ve noticed the British newspapers have been full of stuff about Edward and his lady-love. Our former king seems to have really embraced Hitler and the Nazis. There was a quote in one of the papers the other day … apparently he told someone that he was entirely of German blood. I think he said it to Joachim von Ribbentrop when he was the German ambassador in London, but I’m—’

‘I read that too,’ Miles cut in. ‘And he actually said it to Diana Mosley, not Ribbentrop.’ Miles shook his head. ‘I’m sure she was thrilled to hear that, given Sir Oswald’s admiration of Hitler. She and Mosley are in Berlin constantly, and so is her sister Unity, who’s obsessed with Hitler.’

‘Those Mitford sisters take the cake!’ Hugo exclaimed. ‘Worshipping at the shrine of the Führer, and Unity fawning all over him. He’s very flattered by all the attention he gets from certain members of the British aristocracy. Fools, the lot of them. No wonder Churchill sits fuming, I would, too. In fact, I do fume, in sympathy with him.’

‘I know what you mean,’ Daphne interjected. ‘I’ve noticed the Establishment feels the same way, though: they think Hitler’s a great leader. They’re afraid of Communism, that’s why.’

Alicia gave Miles her attention when she said, ‘But our royal family is rather German, isn’t it, Uncle Miles?’

‘Indeed. Our ex-king spoke the truth about his German blood. Let’s not forget that his great-grandmother, Queen Victoria, was German through her forebears, the Hanoverian kings, and her mother was German. Victoria married a German, her cousin Prince Albert of Saxe-Coburg and Gotha. That was the name of our royal family for years and years. King George V, Edward’s father, changed it in the Great War. That is when the family took the surname of Windsor.’

Miles cleared his throat and was about to speak when Daphne exclaimed, ‘I see Bruno hovering, so let us go and have lunch. And please, Miles, no history lessons. I grew up listening to them at every meal.’

Her brother had the good grace to laugh, and Cecily exclaimed, ‘I loved his history lessons, and still do. Miles has a fantastic memory for such marvellous historical details.’

As she rose, Daphne threw Cecily a warm look and teased, ‘Of course you love his history lessons. You love everything he does. You worship the ground he walks on.’

Grinning at Daphne, Cecily shot back, ‘That’s true, I do, and I don’t care who knows it.’

‘We’ve all known it since you were about twelve,’ Hugo murmured, squeezing Cecily’s arm as he walked past. Leaning over her shoulder, he whispered in her ear, ‘And I for one love you for the way you love him.’