Читать книгу The Secret of Summerhayes - Merryn Allingham, Merryn Allingham - Страница 12

‘I won’t stay more than a few minutes,’ May said, when they’d decamped to Beth’s bedroom. ‘I can see you’ve got your hands full.’ She jerked her head towards the sitting room. ‘When he’s done, I’ll pop in to see Mrs Summer and then I’ll be off.’

‘He won’t be long,’ Beth said. She found a nook on the window seat while May took the narrow bed. ‘I have strict instructions to rescue her. She seems to have little affection for him.’

‘She can be a difficult woman. Not so much nowadays mebbe, but I remember my mother often coming home in a fury about something the mistress had said or done. It wasn’t that Mrs Summer was harsh or aggressive – no shouting orders, that kind of thing. She was vague and sort of floaty. You couldn’t put your finger on it really, I think that’s what got to my mother. Ma never knew what was wrong, just that something was wrong, and the mistress wouldn’t be happy until it was put right. Just plain irritating, if you ask me.’

‘I think she must have mellowed since then, and I wouldn’t have thought she’d give Gilbert Fitzroy problems. It sounds odd, but once or twice these last few weeks when he’s come to see her, I’ve thought him almost scared.’

‘Gilbert? Scared? He wouldn’t be scared. He’s a deep one, though. Mebbe he’s just keen to keep on the right side of her and wants to make sure he doesn’t put a foot wrong.’

‘Why so keen? Alice is a frail old woman. She’s no hold over him.’

May pursed her lips. ‘You could be wrong there. He’s the heir to Summerhayes. He’ll want to make sure the place comes to him.’

‘But surely it will. She wouldn’t disinherit him?’

‘Who knows? She’s probably too much a daughter of Amberley to do such a thing, but old people get funny ideas in their heads. And she don’t like him, so you never can tell. He’s probably busy buttering his bread on both sides.’

‘He can’t need another estate, though. He has Amberley. What would he want with this wreck of a place?’

May took a long sip of the weak tea. ‘There’s always been bad blood between the families over Summerhayes. The old man, Henry Fitzroy – he was Gilbert’s father – hated the place. He reckoned it was unfairly taken from Amberley.’

‘And was it?’

‘Not that I know of. Nor anyone else. Alice married Mr Summer and he gave the Fitzroys a lot of money, leastways that was the rumour. In exchange, he got Mrs Summer and a large chunk of the Amberley estate.’

‘So if it was all legally tied up, why the problem?’

‘The Fitzroys are the problem, my dear. They’re somewhat crafty and they’ve an exaggerated idea of their own importance. Old man Fitzroy never accepted the settlement.’

‘Do you think Gilbert feels that way, too?’

‘I don’t know, but it’s bound to rub off, isn’t it? In any case, he’ll want Summerhayes to prop up his own estate.’

‘But Amberley is rich.’

‘’Tis at the moment,’ May said cryptically, raising her eyebrows into two large question marks. ‘It’s his wife that funds it, leastways that’s what people say. She hasn’t been near the place since war was declared, and what if she goes for good? There’s rumours they don’t get on, but he needs her, I reckon. He’s overspent on that place, something chronic. She’s some kind of heiress. American.’ May sniffed. ‘If she don’t come back and her money stays with her, he’ll be after Summerhayes. And he’d make a tidy sum on it, even in its present state.’

‘Ralph told me his mother was in New York. It’s strange she’s stayed away so long, but maybe she feels genuinely frightened. The bombing hasn’t been anywhere near as bad here as it has in London but still… I wonder why she didn’t take her son with her.’

‘He—’ and again May jerked her head towards the sitting room ‘—wouldn’t let her. A bit of a row about it apparently, but in any case I don’t think Ida was too worried. Not exactly mother of the year. And it wasn’t just the war to my mind. That was a good excuse for her to pack up and go. Gilbert Fitzroy isn’t everyone’s choice of a husband.’

‘Well, she did choose him,’ Beth said stoutly. ‘So she must have liked something about him. And he’s been good to us. I know the presents for Alice are trivial, she can take them or leave them, but he’s gone out of his way to help. He found us a new cleaning woman and that, let me tell you, is worth its weight in gold. If I had to add cleaning to my duties, I don’t think I’d ever sleep.’

‘Molly Dumbrell, isn’t it?’ May gave a small huff. ‘I’ve heard she’s a good enough cleaner but—’

‘But what?’

‘She’s also no better than she should be, if you know what I mean. And Mr Fitzroy recommended her? Well, well.’

Beth was about to probe this cryptic remark when the opening and closing of the sitting-room door halted their conversation. Evidently Gilbert had been dismissed. Beth, with May following, slipped back into the small hall to meet him and found Ralph by his side.

‘Did she like the book?’

Gilbert smiled ruefully. ‘I’m not sure she did.’

‘Daddy said she put it on the table and didn’t even open it.’

‘Then I’ll try to persuade her to take a look,’ May said briskly. ‘I’ll go in now, if you’ve finished, Mr Fitzroy.’

‘Be my guest. I hope you have better luck than I did.’

Beth was certain her friend would. For the old lady, May was a link to the past, but not such a close link that she brought with her disagreeable memories. Alice would be able to reminisce at will and May could be relied on to say the right things.

‘Well now, Master Fitzroy,’ she turned to Ralph. ‘Time for that test, I believe.’

‘Before you begin,’ Gilbert cut in, ‘I have a proposition for you.’

She was on the alert. He was an attractive man with a very obvious brand of charm. Men were best kept at a distance and attractive, charming men, even more so. It would certainly be foolish to become embroiled in any proposition.

‘I was wondering, Bethany.’ He lingered on her name. ‘Would you consider coming to Amberley to give Ralph his lessons?’

She was momentarily taken aback. It was the last thing she’d expected, but in the surprised silence Ralph piped up, ‘Daddy, no. I’d much rather come here.’

‘I know you would and that’s the trouble. You’re far too interested in the military. And while the army is here, your concentration will be on them rather than on what you should be learning.’

His father was right. Without the distraction of soldiers and tanks, Ralph was bound to give more attention to his lessons.

Gilbert’s smile was affable. ‘I think it’s a sensible idea. By rights, of course, my aunt should be living with us at Amberley. It would certainly make things easier. I’ve tried to persuade her it would be for the best, but she’s incredibly stubborn. Even when a bomb blew her windows out, she refused to move, though one of the Amberley cellars has a first-class shelter. It could house a dozen people. In fact, the whole house has space and you do seem a trifle cramped here.’

That was putting it tactfully. The apartment had been hastily converted from several of the attics that had once taken up the entire top floor of the house. Summerhayes was large; where Beth came from it would be called a mansion, but even so she and Alice were squashed into a modest sitting room, two small bedrooms, an even smaller kitchen and a minuscule hall. It was good of Gilbert to make the offer and it would be bliss to enjoy space and comfort, but she remained unconvinced. The idea of spending whole mornings at Amberley made her uneasy.

‘I couldn’t leave Alice for that length of time,’ she prevaricated. ‘The most I’m ever away is an hour to get to the village and back.’

‘Ripley is still living in the house, isn’t he? I see precious little sign of him whenever I’m here, but he is a pensioner of the estate. He could sit with my aunt while you’re at Amberley. Earn his keep.’ It was said with a smile but the words set her teeth on edge.

When she didn’t respond, he said, ‘Let me know when you’ve had time to think it over. I believe it would work well – for all of us.’ He patted Ralph on the shoulder. ‘See you later, old chap. And mind that you work hard this morning.’

Beth walked with him to the upper staircase and hoped he wouldn’t find a reason to loiter. But when he turned to her at the open door, it was to launch yet another surprise. ‘There’s a dance at the village hall tomorrow night. It’s supposedly to welcome our new defenders, but really it’s a rare chance for the village to enjoy itself. I thought you might like to go. You need a break and I can always give you a lift if you don’t fancy the walk in the dark. The Bentley has just about sufficient petrol. Ripley will do the honours, I’m sure – he’ll enjoy an evening with Alice.’

She doubted that, but Gilbert was down the narrow staircase to the first floor and had disappeared before she could respond. She felt ruffled, the peace of the morning destroyed. She didn’t want to make decisions about Amberley or about a village dance.

When May emerged pink-faced from the sitting room a few minutes later, she appeared almost as ruffled. ‘Phew! She was in a bit of a taking. Goodness knows what he said to her. But she’s much calmer now – I left her settling down for a nap. I must be off, my love, time for me to visit my refugees. And you’ve a refugee of your own to mind.’ She directed a smile towards the kitchen while cramming her hat on her head.

Beth handed her her basket. ‘I hope he takes his father’s words to heart or I’ll feel I’m taking money under false pretences.’

‘The boy will either learn or he won’t,’ her companion said philosophically. ‘It’s not your problem.’

But something else was. ‘May,’ she called out, as her friend made her way down the tightly packed stairs. ‘Should I go to the dance at the village hall? It’s tomorrow evening.’

‘That’s the best idea you’ve had for weeks.’ May beamed with enthusiasm. ‘I’ll come and sit with Mrs Summer if you like.’

‘I wouldn’t ask you to do that. You’ll want to go yourself and Mr Ripley will look after Alice, I’m sure.’

‘She’d prefer it was me. But why do you ask?’

‘Gilbert Fitzroy mentioned it. He offered me a lift to the village.’

May’s eyebrows rose steeply once more, this time forming almost vertical question marks, but she said nothing and made her way down the remaining stairs in silence. It left Beth feeling confused and a little troubled.

They weren’t to exercise on the beach after all, but on the east side of the Adur river. When they landed in France, so the briefing went, they’d need to negotiate river crossings where the bridges had been destroyed by a retreating enemy. A Bailey bridge was the answer and all day they’d practised an assault across the river using portable canvas-sided boats, alongside the engineers building the bridge. It had been a long day before the final vehicles had trundled their way across. Jos was tired in mind and body. Depressed, too. The exercise had shown just how difficult it was to move an army through enemy terrain. And it assumed they had actually landed in France.

It was impossible to see how they were ever to get a foothold in that country, let alone storm the fortifications along the coastline. For soldiers in war, the chance of death was ever present and several times he’d come close to it in Italy, but now it was no longer a chance but a racing certainty. Even as the landing craft ramps were lowered, they would be pummelled by machine-gun fire and artillery shells. If they made it to dry land, they would be throwing their frail bodies against concrete and limb-destroying machinery, crawling upwards across an open beach while the Germans sat prettily in their cliff-top bunkers, annihilating them from a comfortable distance. It was a mad, mad plan and they would need the devil’s own luck to be successful. But he understood that it was the only possibility. They would have to go through with it, risk all, and bear the consequences.

And what, after all, was he leaving behind? Who would grieve for him? His proxy parents who’d cared for him on and off for most of his childhood? Mostly on, since his own father had so often been incapable. And their children, who had been as near to brothers as he was likely to get. But there was only distance now; their lives had taken them in different directions. For a while, they would mourn a lost cousin but three, four thousand miles away, his death would seem like another world. And his father? Unlikely. On good days, he knew his son but there weren’t many of those. Jos’s visits to the hospital were, for the most part, conducted in silence and he would sit guiltily counting the minutes until he could decently leave. The nurses, of course, were relentlessly upbeat. Your father is doing really well. Yesterday, he walked in the garden and helped Charlie pick flowers. Charlie was the ward clerk. He likes Charlie, he talks to him. And there was that veiled accusation. He talks to the ward clerk but not to his own son.

Jos didn’t return to his billet immediately. All the men with whom he shared would be there, and right now he had no taste for company. Instead he wandered down through the gardens, past the tanks, past the temporary cook-and-bath houses, and under the pergola of straggling roses to the abandoned vegetable garden. He would go back to that wild place, he decided, the one where young Ralph had found him and led him out. Out of the wilderness. How biblical it sounded. If only his own wilderness were as easy to leave behind.

When he got to the brick archway, he stopped. Glancing through it to the jungle beyond, he saw that the narrow pathway that he and the boy had made only days before had disappeared and instead an acre of tall grass and overhanging tree ferns lay before him. Did he want to risk the ignominy of getting lost again? But still, something was calling him to walk through the morass, to find his way to that enclosed space at the very bottom of the estate. The badlands, Eddie had called it. And he was right. A sour-smelling ruin if ever there was, yet the need to return was strong. It must be the feeling that he’d dreamt the place, a feeling that persisted even though it was utterly illogical. Dreamt it or read about it perhaps. As a child, books had been a sanctuary amid the turmoil of an unhappy home, and he had been a voracious reader. He had loved tales of England, of knights and horses, of palaces and jousts. He must have borrowed a book from the library that mentioned Summerhayes, though he doubted the estate had ever seen a knight or a joust. Horses maybe, before the motor car displaced them.

Reluctantly, he turned back. He had wanted to find the garden again, walk the cracked pathway, circle the stagnant lake and pay homage to its shattered temple. But now was not the time. He had work to do and he needed a shower and a change of clothes. A day submersed in water meant he smelt of river weed himself.

When he got back to the small brick building, Eddie was just emerging, a towel slung over his shoulder. ‘Down to the showers, my friend, we’re going dancing.’

‘You may be, but not me.’

‘Don’t be a grouch. It’s just a village do – they want to welcome us to the bosom of their community.’

‘This is community enough. I’m happy to stay here.’

‘There’ll be a band,’ Eddie tempted. ‘And you know you love swing.’

‘I can imagine what kinda band.’

‘It’ll be the real thing. A couple of the guys were saying the village has hired a gang from Brighton. That’s the local fun palace. It should be good.’

‘Then go and enjoy. I’ve a report to write for McMasters on today’s hullabaloo. We avoided disaster by the skin of our teeth and there’ll need to be a rethink.’

‘You can do it tomorrow. Manoeuvres have been cancelled and we’re being stood down.’

‘How did that happen?’ Jos had been preparing for another day of punishment and was taken aback.

‘Our near disasters won’t have gone unnoticed. I guess the colonel will be doing his own rethink, so maybe you don’t need to write that report after all.’

‘Then God knows what’ll be in the new plan.’

‘You won’t know until tomorrow. So, c’mon, spivvy up and let your hair down.’

‘Thanks for the invite, Ed, but I’m beat.’

‘Me too, but never too tired to dance.’ Eddie looked at him closely. ‘Sure it’s not because there’ll be women there?’

Eddie was closer to the truth than he realised. But it wasn’t women he wanted to avoid; it was one particular woman. He hadn’t been able to get her face out of his mind. He needed to keep clear of her or she would get under his skin. She had got under his skin. But no further.

‘Chicken,’ Eddie taunted.

His friend wasn’t giving up. And how likely was it that Bethany Merston would be there? She had her old lady to look after. He gave in.

‘Okay, okay. I’ll come.’