‘My giddy Aunt!’ Amanda exclaimed looking out of the library window at Rupert, who was in the paddock with Sophia and Jonathan, feeding carrots and apples to the ponies. ‘He’s the image of Jack, isn’t he?’
She’d driven over from Oxford to have Sunday lunch at Hartley and found the whole family, with the exception of Rosie, gathered together for the weekend.
Liza winced at Amanda’s enthusiasm. ‘He is good-looking,’ she admitted grudgingly, ‘but he’s a holy terror. He refuses to do anything he’s told and he hates having a bath and—’
‘Oh, for goodness sake, Ma, he’s only nine and he’s been brought up in the wilds of Wales, what do you expect? Little Lord Fauntleroy?’
‘He’s also just lost the couple he looked upon as parents,’ Juliet pointed out loyally. She and Daniel had been very taken with Rupert, and saw him as a frightened little boy with a lot of spirit who merely needed to be tamed. ‘Give him time. He’ll settle eventually and I think Louise and Shane are doing a wonderful job.’
Louise smiled at her gratefully. ‘I’m glad he’s getting on so well with Sophia and Johnnie, and of course he adores animals.’
‘I hear you’ve given him a puppy! Clever you.’
‘Remember how you gave me Bella, when I was practically suicidal?’ Louise recalled.
Juliet nodded. ‘What did you get Rupert?’
‘A Norfolk terrier bitch called Bridie. She’s only two months old and adorable.’
‘I hope she’s in the gun room, Louise?’ her mother fretted. ‘I don’t want her making a mess everywhere.’
Louise and Juliet exchanged looks.
‘Let’s go into the garden,’ Juliet said firmly. ‘All the dogs can come with us.’
Amanda and Louise with Daisy followed her out of the room, leaving Liza sitting by the smouldering fire. Wearing warm coats and headscarves, they walked with the dogs to the paddock.
‘It’s a dreadful thing to say,’ Louise remarked when they were out of earshot of the house, ‘but it would be so much more peaceful if Mama wasn’t here, wouldn’t it? If it was just Daddy and Granny and us? We’d all have such a laugh, wouldn’t we?’
Amanda adjusted the glasses on her nose. ‘Why do you think I hardly ever come home? I can’t get away during the week when Mum’s in town, and at weekends she’s always here.’
‘I don’t know why she bothers,’ Juliet remarked. ‘She’s always hated Hartley.’
Louise let out a little groan. ‘How can anyone hate Hartley, for goodness sake! It’s the best place in the world to be. I’d live here and so would Shane if it wasn’t for his work.’
‘So would I,’ Amanda agreed, ‘although when I eventually become an MP I’ll have to get a seat in the Midlands and live up there. I don’t imagine there’ll be any support for a Labour candidate in this part of the world.’
‘You’re still set on a life in politics?’ Juliet asked, half in admiration and half in amusement. She’d always thought her sister would outgrow her burning desire to represent the underprivileged and create a utopia where everyone was equal.
‘What else?’ Amanda retorted stoutly. ‘Sorry girls, and nothing personal, but I couldn’t live the shallow life you two live, where your world begins and ends with husbands and babies, and what to wear and whose party to go to!’
‘I don’t lead that sort of life.’ Louise laughed. ‘And Shane is doing one of the most worthwhile jobs there are.’
Amanda looked kindly at her, but she spoke bluntly. ‘It would be more worthwhile if he treated his patients without charging, though, wouldn’t it? The government should pay for people to have all the medical care they need. Do you realize there are thousands of people in this country who are ill, or even dying, but they’re too poor to afford to see a doctor!’
‘There is talk of a national health system that will do just that,’ Louise ventured mildly.
‘Talk, talk, talk,’ Amanda rattled on. ‘Never mind, there’s another general election next year. Mr Attlee is bound to get in again and then the Labour Party can really get to grips with things.’
‘Having fun, Rupert?’ Louise called out when they reached the fencing round the paddock.
He turned his back on her with a dismissive gesture and patted the neck of Jonathan’s brown gelding.
‘Do you want a leg-up?’ Amanda asked briskly in her loud voice.
Louise said quickly, ‘Oh, I don’t think so, not without a saddle. He’s never ridden before.’ Daisy clambered up the fence on her strong little legs to get a better look.
‘He can use my saddle,’ Jonathan offered politely.
‘It’ll soon be time for lunch,’ Juliet pointed out, thinking how different the cousins looked. Jonathan, who’d become Lord Padmore on the death of his father, was a typical product of an old-fashioned nanny. Although he was eleven, he looked much younger with a peaches and cream English complexion, neatly brushed hair, and Rosie’s blue eyes. Dressed in a brown tweed suit and polished brogues, he was a miniature edition of Henry.
Rupert, on the other hand, looked more like a ruffian with his unruly locks, tanned skin from living an outdoor life, and knowing watchful eyes.
‘He’s a beautiful child,’ Juliet whispered to Louise. ‘Jack had the same colouring, didn’t he?’
‘Has the same colouring,’ Louise corrected her. ‘He may be coming over this weekend to meet Rupert.’
Juliet clutched her sister’s arm in amazement. ‘No! Really? You never said… Oh, my God! Does Mama know?’
‘Know what?’ Amanda butted in, turning to look at them.
‘Hush,’ Louise warned in a low voice. ‘Rupert doesn’t know it yet, but Jack may be coming to see him today or tomorrow.’
‘Crikey! Why didn’t you say?’ boomed Amanda in astonishment.
‘Because I don’t want him to be disappointed if Jack doesn’t turn up. His aunt said she’d try and get hold of him, but she couldn’t promise.’
Juliet shook her head slowly. ‘I can’t believe it. Do you realize, Louise, that this is the most momentous… not to say romantic thing that could have happened?’
Amanda snorted. ‘Really, Jules, you read too many trashy novels.’
‘No, I don’t!’
‘There’s nothing in the least romantic about it,’ Louise pointed out. ‘It’s nerve-wracking. In fact, I’m terrified.’
Amanda straightened her shoulders in her baggy tweed jacket. ‘Terrified? What of?’
‘Everything. Rupert hasn’t accepted me as his mother yet. What’s he going to feel towards Shane, who he at least respects, if his own father turns up? And supposing Rupert likes Jack more than me? What shall I do then? What if Jack wants to look after him permanently? I could lose Rupert all over again.’
‘Calm down and stop twittering on, for goodness sake,’ Amanda said bluntly. ‘Why cross your bridges before you come to them?’
Juliet put an arm around Louise’s shoulders. ‘I can understand exactly how you feel, darling. But try not to worry, and the great thing is, don’t let Rupert get worried and upset.’
‘I know.’
Sophia came up to the fence, her pony following her like an affectionate dog. ‘What are you talking about?’ she asked suspiciously. She was a lanky twelve-year-old now, with Rosie’s discontented mouth and her late father’s pale grey eyes. ‘Were you talking about Mummy?’ she demanded in a rude voice.
‘Not at all,’ Juliet said calmly, giving her a look. ‘We were actually saying how nice it is for Rupert to have come back to us all.’
‘He’s no good at anything, though,’ Sophia said disdainfully. ‘He doesn’t know how to play tennis or ride, and he can’t swim, or play cards or…’
‘That’s because he hasn’t been as lucky as you and Jonathan,’ Juliet said firmly. She had the strangest feeling that her prickly relationship with Rosie was repeating itself with Sophia. ‘I don’t think you realize what a wonderful life you lead. You’ve always had the best of everything and up until now Rupert has been deprived of the things you take for granted.’
Sophia gave a scoffing grunt. ‘What? The best of everything? My father was killed when I was small, and now my mother’s run off with a frog and we don’t know when we’ll see her again. I don’t call that the best of everything.’
‘There are some children in this country who have nothing!’ Amanda declared, weighing in heavily. ‘They live in squalor, with not enough to eat! You live in the lap of luxury without even appreciating it.’
‘So do you,’ Sophia retorted, sounding so like Rosie in a debate that Juliet nearly laughed out loud.
‘Never mind,’ Louise said peaceably, ‘from now on Rupert’s going to have everything he needs so his life will be as happy as we can make it.’
Rupert suddenly turned swiftly and came bounding across the grass to where they stood by the fence.
His face was flushed and he spoke angrily. ‘You won’t make me happy if you don’t let me go back to my farm! I hate it here. I hate Sophia and Johnnie; they’re stuck-up toffee-nosed buggers!’
There was a stunned silence. Then Louise spoke. ‘Please do not swear, Rupert.’
He did an affected little jig, mimicking her voice. “‘Please do not swear, Roo-pert!” Me name’s Tostig! How many times do I have to tell you that?’ Then he turned and flounced off, kicking tufts of grass with his little boots as he went.
Sophia gazed after him. She looked deeply impressed.
Juliet, Amanda and Louise stared at each other, their mouths open.
‘What are buggers?’ Daisy asked plaintively from her perch on the top of the fence.
‘Someone who’s silly,’ Louise said swiftly, ‘but it’s a very rude thing to say. Now come along, let’s go in to lunch, or Granny will wonder what’s happened to us.’
As they walked back to the house with the four children and the dogs trailing behind them, they met Henry, who was on his way to meet them.
‘Louise darling,’ he said, ‘Would you like to come to the study? On your own,’ he added carefully.
She started to shake and he took her arm gently.
‘Daddy, shall I bring…?’
‘Not yet. Juliet can tell Rupert to get ready for lunch.’
‘Is Shane…?’
‘In the drawing room with the others, but he knows,’ Henry whispered, leading the way into the house.
Amanda raised her thick eyebrows knowingly and Juliet said softly, ‘I’d give anything to be a fly on the library wall at this moment.’
Jack was sitting awkwardly on the library sofa, holding his brown felt trilby with both hands, between his knees. When Henry and Louise entered the room, he jumped to his feet as if he’d had an electric shock.
‘I’ll leave you two now,’ Henry said. ‘There are drinks on the tray; help yourselves.’ Then he left the room and quietly shut the door behind him.
Louise regarded Jack with her customary open and honest gaze and thought how much he’d aged, even since their meeting just before she’d married Shane.
Jack, looking at her with a kind of wonder, was amazed at how she’d fined down since she’d been the fifteen-year-old school girl he’d first fallen in love with. She was slim now and womanly, with rounded breasts and an expression of warm serenity.
‘You all right then?’ he asked diffidently.
‘Yes.’ She smiled.
Oh, how he remembered that sweet smile that had so captivated him all those years ago. ‘So you got the boy back?’
Louise nodded. ‘Sit down, Jack. What would you like to drink?’
‘I’m OK. Where is he now?’ he asked eagerly, still clutching his hat.
‘Getting ready for lunch. I didn’t tell him about you, in case you couldn’t come and I didn’t want him to be disappointed.’
Jack’s eyes looked flat with disappointment, and Louise noticed the soft peachy down of his upper lip and cheeks when he’d been a boy had turned to fair bristles.
‘Is he all right?’
Louise hesitated. ‘He’s fine, but the loss of the couple he thought were his parents has made him very hostile towards me. Don’t be upset if he’s hostile towards you too, when you see him. It’s me he blames for abandoning him when he was born and Shane and I are having to go very carefully, until he adjusts to us all.’
‘Doesn’t he ask about me, then?’ There was a spark of hope in Jack’s eyes now.
‘He doesn’t ask about anything in his new life. I don’t even know if it’s occurred to him that he has a real father. We’ve made it plain Shane’s his step-father and it was Shane who suggested we should contact you, so that Rupert can come to terms with how he came to be born.’ Louise’s voice wobbled dangerously. ‘And why he’s come back to us.’
‘It ain’t “us” though, is it? It’s you and your ’usband and the whole bloomin’ Granville family. That’s who ’e’s come back to.’
Louise studied the carpet at her feet, a blush rising to her cheeks. ‘I know, Jack. I know. It’s a terribly difficult situation, but I think we have to think about Rupert’s happiness before we think about ourselves.’
‘Fair enough.’
‘I don’t want the poor little boy to be made more confused than he already is.’ Briefly she outlined his childhood in a poverty-stricken farmhouse, and how he hadn’t even had any toys to play with.
‘When we brought him back to London with us, he had an old football, some comics and a battered biscuit tin, containing his “treasures” as he called them; a shell, some unusual stones’ – she was crying openly now, wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand – ‘and a tiny wooden dog his da had carved with a pen knife.’
‘Don’t take on so, Lou,’ Jake said gruffly. ‘It ain’t your fault.’
She fished a handkerchief out of her skirt pocket and blew her nose.
‘Sorry,’ she murmured apologetically. ‘I love him so much and it’s so upsetting that he doesn’t want to have anything to do with me.’
‘Are you livin’ down here again, then?’
‘No, we live in London, but Shane and I thought he might settle better if we stayed here for a bit. He’s got Rosie’s children to play with and Granny’s so good with children. Where do you live now?’
‘Stepney. I wanted to get back to the East End after the war, and me dad’s out of prison now, so I’m livin’ with ’im. I’m getting good wages as a plumber now, in a big firm. So… when can I see our boy?’
The word ‘our’ was like a knife plunging into Louise’s heart. Not that she had any romantic feelings for Jack, but it was the sadness of the whole mess she’d made by falling so hopelessly in love when she’d been young. And now although Rupert would get to know them, they’d never be there for him as parents who lived together, as a family unit.
‘I’ll fetch him now,’ she said, rising. ‘And Jack…’
‘Yup?’
‘If all goes well, will you be able to see him regularly? Shane says it’s important we don’t break promises to him and we stick to any arrangement that’s made.’
‘You can count on me, Lou,’ he replied stoutly.
Rupert was in the drawing room sitting beside Lady Anne, who was showing him a book filled with engravings of wild animals. Liza, Henry and Shane were talking to Juliet and Amanda, while Sophia and Jonathan were trying to find the right pieces for a big jigsaw which was spread out on a card table.
‘Rupert, I want you to come and meet someone,’ Louise said brightly, though her hands were shaking.
He scowled at her. ‘I don’t want to.’
Lady Anne beamed at him. ‘You never know, it might be a lovely surprise!’
‘I want to go on looking at the pictures of animals,’ he said rebelliously.
‘I promise we’ll look at it again this afternoon,’ she whispered. ‘Anyway, we have to stop for lunch and we’re having beef and roast potatoes.’
Rupert got reluctantly to his feet and walked slowly towards Louise. Lady Anne mouthed ‘good luck’ to her granddaughter, and everyone in the room turned to smile encouragingly at Louise.
‘Who are we going to see?’ Rupert asked in a small voice as they crossed the big square hall.
Louise paused and laid a gentle hand on his bony shoulder. ‘You know that everyone has a mother and a father?’
His expression was impassive.
‘And you know that I’m your real mother? Well, now you’re going to meet your real father. He’s come to see you.’
A tiny flicker of anxiety showed in his eyes. ‘What’s going to happen to Shane then?’
She tightened her grip reassuringly. ‘Shane will always be with us, whatever happens. He loves you and he’ll always look after both of us.’
‘And Daisy?’
‘Of course.’ To her amazement Rupert let her slide her hand down his arm until she held his hand. ‘Let’s go and meet your dad.’
‘How are you doin’, then, mate?’ Jack asked, jumping up from the sofa again, when they entered the room.
Rupert looked at him cautiously.
Jack shot Louise an anxious look. ‘So wot ’ave you bin doin’ with yourself?’ he continued.
Rupert gazed down at his boots, from which he refused to be parted. ‘Nothing much.’
‘Why don’t we have a drink before lunch?’ Louise suggested going over to the drinks tray. ‘Rupert, you’d like orange squash, wouldn’t you? What would you like, Jack?’
‘I’ll ’ave a beer.’
Beer was not one of her father’s drinks. ‘I’ll be back in a sec,’ she said, rushing to the kitchen. Warwick drank beer and there were sure to be some bottles of it in the larder.
When she returned to the library, Rupert was standing by the sofa, watching Jack open and shut the various parts of his penknife.
‘With this ’ere bit you can open bottles, and this is a corkscrew…’
Rupert looked up at Louise. ‘Can I have one of these?’ he demanded.
Louise hesitated, the different sized blades looked fearsome and she was just about to tell him he could have one when he was older, when Jack spoke.
‘’Ere mate, you keep this one.’
It was the first time Louise had seen Rupert’s face light up and he actually smiled into the face of his father. ‘Don’t you want it?’
Jack chuckled, giving the boy a playful little punch on the shoulder. ‘I can get myself another one. Let’s call it a present to celebrate you an’ me meetin’ for the first time, eh? How about that?’
Watching them together, Louise saw how, just for a moment, Jack looked young and happy again, just as he’d done when she’d first known him.
‘Your mum tells me you’ve got a puppy? Can I see him?’
‘Why don’t you both come and have lunch first?’ Louise suggested. ‘Then Rupert can show you Bridie, and you could both take her out in the garden.’
Jack looked up at Louise. ‘Are you sure your family want me to stay for me dinner?’
Her gaze was direct. ‘They’re expecting you,’ she said firmly.
‘Blimey! Is it the war that’s changed things, or wot?’
‘It’s the joy of having Rupert back that’s changed things,’ she replied. ‘And definitely for the better, too.’
Jack was seated next to Rupert and Amanda who immediately took him under her wing, thinking of him as an example of a decent young man who hadn’t been given a chance because of snobbery.
‘You can do anything you like with your life,’ she told him boldly. ‘You’re obviously intelligent so why don’t you study for something? Or you could start your own business? Why be employed by a capitalist who pockets the profits and keeps you on a low wage, when you could make yourself a small fortune?’
Rupert listened to them talking with fascination. Finally he spoke. ‘Dad, you must come and stay with me, on my farm one day.’
Everyone around the table paused with bated breath. He’d actually called Jack ‘Dad’.
His father laughingly accepted the invitation while Louise sat quite still, torn between happiness at the breakthrough, and at the same time a feeling of deep hurt. In half an hour Rupert had accepted Jack as his father, yet he still rejected her as his mother and refused to let her get close.
Fighting back tears of jealousy, she struggled through the rest of lunch, letting everyone else do the talking. It was a relief when they finally rose from the table and went their separate ways; Lady Anne to rest and listen to the wireless in her sitting room, Liza and Henry to read the newspapers in the conservatory, while Juliet and Daniel took Tristan out for a walk in the garden. Meanwhile Amanda shooed Sophia and Jonathan into the garden. ‘I’m going to change,’ she told them, ‘then I’ll give you two a good thrashing on the tennis court.’
Louise gathered up Daisy in her arms, although she was now quite heavy and carried her up the stairs. ‘Why don’t I take you to the nursery for your afternoon nap, my darling?’ she suggested, ‘then we can play with your dolls’ house before tea?’
When she came downstairs again a few minutes later, Shane was waiting for her in the hall. He’d been watching her with deep compassion throughout lunch, knowing how much pain she was suffering. Now he opened his arms to her and without saying a word, held her close.
‘What am I going to do?’ she asked him despondently. ‘I don’t think Rupert is ever going to like me.’
‘It’ll be all right, sweetheart,’ Shane promised. ‘Give him time. Right now I think he takes to men more than women. He might see it as a sign of weakness and maybe he’s afraid of being a mummy’s boy. We don’t know what sort of a relationship he had with his adopted mother, do we? Try and be patient, and I’m sure you’ll win him around in time. So far, you’ve done brilliantly. We haven’t had a tantrum for two days and the Battle of the Bath seems to have ended, too,’ he added jokingly, to lighten the atmosphere.
Louise gave him a wistful smile. ‘Jack’s going to be a good father, isn’t he?’
‘That’s probably because he’s not trying.’
‘And I’m trying too hard,’ she observed quietly.
Louise and Shane brought Rupert and Daisy back to London a week later, but if she’d hoped being at Hartley would bring about a change in Rupert’s attitude towards her, she was sorely disappointed. Within hours he was being off-hand and disobedient and when she told him she was looking at suitable day schools to send him to, he threatened to run away again, back to the farm.
Punishing him by sending him to his room had no effect, and as he didn’t play with the toys Shane had bought him, it was pointless taking them away from him. Only Bridie brought out a gentle and affectionate side to his character, and he insisted on feeding her and brushing her coat every day, and training her to fetch back the balls he threw for her in the small back garden.
Every night, Louise left Bridie to sleep in her basket in the kitchen, which Rupert didn’t like but grudgingly accepted. Then one night, when Shane was on duty at St Stephen’s, Louise checked on the children after she’d had her bath. Daisy, now sleeping in a ‘big girl’s bed’, as she called it, was fast asleep, her little hands clutching her teddy bear. Then Louise put her head round Rupert’s door. Two little bright eyes looked at her, and two small silky ears were pricked up. Peering into the darkness, she saw Rupert’s tanned arms encircling Bridie’s body as he held her fast to his chest.
Louise crept away, not having the heart to disturb them. Hadn’t she slept with Bella on the pillow beside her, to console her when she’d been forced to give Rupert away?
Two days later, Louise was upstairs making the beds when she heard fearful screams from the kitchen.
‘Mum…! Mum…!’
She flew down the stairs. In the kitchen Rupert was holding Daisy upside down by her legs.
‘Quick, Mum, she’s choking on a grape!’ Rupert yelled, shaking the little girl. ‘She’s going a funny colour…’
Louise grabbed Daisy from him and thumped her hard on the back.
Nothing happened except for the horrible gasping noises Daisy was making.
‘Dial 999 for an ambulance,’ Louise shouted, draping the child over her left arm and thumping her again between her shoulder blades.
Rupert dashed into the hall where the telephone stood on a shelf on the wall.
‘Help,’ she heard him scream, ‘my little sister’s choking, she’s dying…’ His voice ended in a sob.
At that moment the grape came shooting out of Daisy’s mouth and she started wailing.
Louise sank to her knees, weak with shock and relief, clutching her small daughter as if she could never bear to let her go. ‘She’s all right, Rupert,’ she shouted. ‘She’s OK. Tell them she’s OK.’
A moment later Rupert came stumbling back into the room, his face pinched and bleached white. He flung his arms around Louise’s neck.
‘Oh. Mum! I thought she was going to die,’ he sobbed. ‘What would we have done if she’d died?’
Louise put her arm around his wiry little frame and held him close, the tears pouring down her cheeks. In the past few minutes she could have lost her daughter, but she’d also gained her son, her first born, at last.
There was an air of hushed respect in the lobby of the Hôtel de Paris as people spoke in low voices, and the staff looked subdued and mournful. ‘What’s happened?’ one of the restaurant waiters asked one of his colleagues. He’d just come on duty and the sombre atmosphere had the chill of a church vault.
‘You haven’t heard? Old Lady Fulsham died in her sleep last night.’
‘Mon Dieu! Does Monsieur le Baron know?’
‘Certainement!’
‘He’ll be rich now!’
The gossip in the staff quarters was rife, but in the suite on the third floor, Rosie sat in stunned silence, hardly able to take in what had happened. Only yesterday… Only last night…! She was filled with disbelief. Surely, at any moment the telephone by their bed would ring, and Lady Fulsham’s light voice, speaking in perfect English, would be gayly suggesting they join her for lunch.
‘I have such an interesting guest I’d love you to meet,’ she’d announce, and that guest might be Winston Churchill, John Cocteau, or her beloved Somerset Maugham. Rosie stared at the silent phone, refusing to believe she’d never hear the old lady’s voice again.
This was her first experience of death since Charles had been killed, but that had been different because it happened during the Blitz. But here, in this sunny paradise, where life was so perfect and where she’d come to believe that nothing awful could happen, death didn’t seem possible.
She gave a little frightened sob. If she felt this badly about Philibert’s aunt, how was she going to feel when Granny died? She blew her nose and wished Philibert would come back to their suite, but he’d rushed off ‘to attend to matters’ as soon as the dawn call from one of her personal staff had told him what had happened.
That had been two hours ago and she felt lonely and upset, not knowing what to do. Should she go down to Lady Fulsham’s suite? What was the protocol of such an occasion? What could she do? Rosie realized with horror that she didn’t even have a black dress in her holiday wardrobe.
Philibert had been busy since he’d been given the news, calling her doctors, then the local undertaker, and then, as was customary in a hotel, arranging for her body to be taken out of the building by the back way, to avoid upsetting hotel guests. Then he’d phoned her lawyer.
The funeral was held five days later at St Nicolas Cathedrale on the Rue Colonel Bellando Del Castro, and it seemed as if every member of both the French and English aristocracy, living or staying on the Riviera, had come to pay their last respects. Prince Rainier was among the many friends who came to mourn her passing, because she’d become a local figure of substance and elegance.
Feeling overwhelmed and awkward because she was afraid everyone would stare at her and think of her as a scarlet woman, Rosie insisted on sitting in a pew behind Philibert.
‘I’m still married,’ she pointed out when he protested, ‘and we’re living together. It was all right meeting your aunt’s friends as a mere girlfriend, but on an occasion like this, it wouldn’t be seemly.’
Philibert shrugged, not answering. Calmly and unemotionally he gave the eulogy, praising his ‘beloved aunt’ for ‘her spirit of joy that encompassed all who met her’, and ‘her great kindness and generosity’.
Rosie watched him, admiring his eloquence and the handsome figure he made as he bravely faced the large congregation. His parents were dead and his aunt had been his only living relative.
Now he was alone in the world. Except for her. Rosie felt her heart swell with love as she sat in the cathedral, and an almost maternal adoration made her vow to make him happy for the rest of his life.
The next morning Philibert told her he had to see the lawyer about his aunt’s affairs. Privately, she longed to know how much money he’d been left. Certainly a large fortune, but she couldn’t very well ask and so she smiled sympathetically and agreed to meet him for lunch in the hotel restaurant at one o’clock. Nothing was going to mar her deep happiness, and although she missed Lady Fulsham, it was nice to know that they’d be able to buy a villa right away, and set up home properly.
At one o’clock, as Rosie waited patiently at their usual table for Philibert, she saw the head waiter coming towards her with a silver salver in his hand.
‘Une lettre pour vous, madame,’ he said politely.
Rosie took the envelope, recognizing Philibert’s handwriting. ‘Merci bien,’ she replied, smiling. Then she eagerly tore open the envelope and unfolded his letter, which had been written on the headed paper of a law firm.
A few moments later she rushed out of the restaurant, her hand over her mouth, as she hurried through the crowded foyer, where guests were enjoying an aperitif before luncheon. Pushing past people, she stepped into the lift and pressed the third-floor button. One look around their suite confirmed with heart-stabbing shock, that what he’d written was true.
She sank on to the bed, feeling as if the ground had been cut away from beneath her feet, leaving her stranded. This couldn’t be happening, she thought, her body ice cold with shock.
Moaning softly, she read the letter again, thankful his hurried scrawl was at least in English.
Rosie, ma chérie,
My aunt’s lawyer has informed me that she died bankrupt. There is nothing left, except some jewellery and heavy debts. It’s all gone on gambling. Every franc of it.
I loved you enough to marry you if we’d been rich. But not like this. You would hate to be poor as much as the thought fills me with dread. She owes the hotel thousands of francs for her suites and for ours. Also the restaurant.
By the time you get this note I shall be on the yacht of an old friend, heading for the Greek islands. There is nothing else I can do. Thank you for the generosity of your love.
Always, Philibert.
‘The rat! The rat!’ Rosie sobbed. ‘Oh, my God, what shall I do?’
She lay on the bed, locked in the grip of panic. How could he have abandoned her like this? What was she supposed to do?
Distraught and heartbroken, she read his letter again and again. It was too much to take in. It was a shock to hear Lady Fulsham had gambled away all her money, but it was unbelievable that Philibert had run away, leaving her alone to face the music. Feeling sick and dazed, she rose from the bed shaking and trembling, deciding the only thing she could do was to telephone home, and get her father to wire her enough money to return to England. She reached for the phone, and just as the hotel operator answered she noticed an envelope had been slipped under her door.
She ripped open the envelope, and then sank to her knees, overwhelmed with horror.
It was from the General Manager of the hotel. In it he informed her that Baron Guerin had stated that she would be settling the bill for their suite, before she followed him to Paris where they’d taken an apartment which, including meals and drinks ordered from room service, now amounted to—
Rosie gave a scream when she saw the row of noughts. Not very good at working out how many francs there were to the pound, she never the less realized that she and Philibert had run up a bill of thousands of pounds. But hadn’t Lady Fulsham invited them to stay ‘as her guests’?
Her mind worked quickly. There was no way she could pay this bill, and no way she could wait to receive money from England, even if her father could get round the temporary law about taking money out of the country.
Feeling too sick to eat, she decided to wait until the morning before doing anything. She got into bed and lay awake most of the night, dropping off occasionally only to awaken with a panic-stricken start, wondering if she’d had the most terrible nightmare, then realizing with plunging despair that she hadn’t.
Early the next morning she ordered breakfast as usual, then she got dressed in her best white linen suit, with her beige high-heeled shoes and handbag. With care she put on her make-up, brushed her blonde hair until it shone, and then tied a jaunty red and white scarf around her neck.
As she handed in the room keys at the reception desk she said, ‘If anyone wants me I’ll be back in an hour or so.’
‘Certainement, madame.’
Then she walked slowly and nonchalantly across the foyer and out through the main glass doors of the Hôtel de Paris and into the brilliant sunshine beyond.
Hartley Hall slumbered quietly in the late autumn sunlight, the surrounding trees tinged with gold, while the garden prepared itself to lie fallow through the coming winter. It was mid afternoon and Lady Anne was resting peacefully in her sitting room. Shortly, Warwick would hobble in with her cup of tea and two digestive biscuits.
She loved this hour. It gave her a sense of achievement to have got through another day. She was beginning to feel her age now, and her joints hurt when she moved. She also became more easily tired although she refused to admit it. Reserving her strength for the weekends when Henry and Liza returned from London was what mattered to her.
Sometimes, Juliet and Louise came with their husbands and all their children, like homing birds to the nest. Even Daniel’s two daughters and his son also joined them on occasions.
At these moments Hartley once again became a place filled with activity and laughter.
With eyes affected by cataracts Lady Anne gazed through the window at her beloved garden as though through frosted glass. Not that her semi-blindness mattered. She knew every plant and shrub, and every tree and bush as if it were an old friend.
What would we all have done, she reflected suddenly, if we hadn’t had Hartley? Where would we have gone to seek peace and comfort? Where would we have found the shelter to lick our wounds and gather enough strength to carry on?
Hartley was the heart and soul of the family, a bastion that protected them all, in war and in peace from the evils of the world and she for one loved every stick and stone of it. Hartley would be her final resting place, too. In her will she’d asked for her ashes to be scattered in the silver birch copse she’d planted herself at the far end of the lawn, when she’d come here as a bride.
At that moment she heard a vehicle coming up the gravel drive.
It stopped by the front door and curious to see who was visiting her on a weekday afternoon, she went into the hall. The front door of Hartley was never locked during the day, and as she waited to see who would come through it, the figure of a dishevelled young woman in a dirty, crumpled white suit came hurtling towards her, flinging her arms around Lady Anne’s neck.
‘Rosie!’ she exclaimed, shocked. ‘What on earth are you doing here? My God, what’s happened to you?’
Rosie’s face was ravaged with grief and disappointment. ‘Oh, Granny!’ she sobbed. ‘I’m so unhappy, and I only had enough money to get the train to Paris, and then I had to change trains to get to Calais…’
Her voice trailed off and she looked as if she was going to faint from exhaustion and hunger.
‘Come and sit down,’ her grandmother commanded, leading her into the drawing room.
Lady Anne had been very angry when Rosie had left Salton to take up with some French gigolo, and appalled that she seemed to care so little for her children that she could leave them indefinitely at Hartley while she went gadding about in the Riviera. But looking at Rosie now, she felt a sense of pity. She looked unwashed and unkempt, and there were dark shadows under her eyes. For the first time, even her spirit seemed broken.
Settling Rosie on the sofa, Lady Anne ordered tea right away before sitting down in a high chair opposite her. ‘Now tell me what happened?’
‘I’ve come straight from Dover,’ Rosie began and then she burst into tears again.
‘Dover? What were you doing in Dover? I thought you were in Monte Carlo?’
‘I was, but I had to get out of the hotel, and I only had enough money to get a train to Paris, and then another one to Calais,’ she repeated, looking down at her fingers which were nervously twisting a damp handkerchief round and round into a tight ball. ‘I was able to cash a cheque when I landed in Dover, and I got a taxi to bring me here, but… but…’ The wreckage of her affair with Philibert and the beautiful future she’d planned with him now lay in tatters. She sat hunched up in her chair, shaking her head, unable to say anything more.
Lady Anne watched her closely, waiting until she was ready to talk. They drank cups of tea in silence – Rosie thirstily as if had been ages since she’d drunk anything – as the sun dipped below the horizon and the light faded. Only then did Rosie, in a small hesitant voice, begin to talk.
‘I loved him so much, and I thought he loved me too,’ she said eventually, explaining briefly what had happened. ‘I still can’t bear to think I’ll never see him again. We were going to get a villa near Cap Ferrat, and get married as soon as I was divorced.’
‘You thought he was rich?’ her grandmother asked carefully.
‘Yes. Well, not as rich as his aunt, of course, but I thought he had enough money of his own, but now I know she was paying for everything. All the restaurants we went to, his clothes… everything. Every single thing.’ Her voice, bitter with disappointment, broke. ‘I now realize Philibert was dependent on her, and expecting to inherit everything.’
Lady Anne’s eyebrows raised a fraction. ‘I see. So that’s when you did a runner from the hotel?’
Rosie nodded. ‘I was terrified, actually, in case they twigged, and tried to stop me.’ She reached for her beige leather handbag. ‘All my jewellery’s in here. And my compact and lipstick. I had to leave all my clothes and make-up behind,’ she added, her tone deep with regret.
‘So you’re returning to London tomorrow, are you? To talk to Salton?’
Her granddaughter looked horrified. ‘Oh, I don’t want to see him again. I can’t face him, anyway. My marriage is over. I shall never love anyone but Philibert.’ She saw the expression in Lady Anne’s eyes. ‘Don’t look at me like that, Granny. You’ve no idea… Philibert and I were meant for each other. He’s all I’ve ever wanted in a man. He’s so handsome and kind and loving, and such a wonderful person to be with. I don’t know how I’m going to live without him,’ she continued passionately. ‘We were in love and so happy together,’ she wept. ‘There’s no one else like him.’
‘Where is he now, my dear?’
Rosie blushed through her misery. ‘He’s cruising around the Greek Islands on someone’s yacht,’ she replied shamefacedly. She wished she could have said something noble like ‘he’s seeing to Lady Fulsham’s affairs’ or ‘trying to make money to cover her debts’.
‘So what are your plans, Rosie?’ Lady Anne asked reasonably. ‘As you know, Jonathan’s at St Peter’s Court and will be home for half term in two weeks, but Sophia will be back at any moment from Tormead.’ She consulted her diamond wrist watch. ‘She went to tea with the Dickensons after school. Nanny will be fetching her now.’
Rosie leaned back against the cushions, utterly drained and washed out with grief and exhaustion. ‘I don’t know what I’m going to do,’ she murmured faintly, closing her eyes. ‘All I want to do is sleep. Sleep forever and never wake up.’
Lady Anne spoke briskly. ‘Why don’t you go upstairs, have a nice hot bath and get into bed? When Sophia gets home I’ll tell her you’re back, but you’re not well and you shouldn’t be disturbed. I’ll have some supper sent up to you on a tray.’
‘I couldn’t eat a thing. I feel sick.’ She covered her face with her hands.
‘That’s because you probably haven’t had a proper meal for the past twenty-four hours. Now, come along, my dear, you don’t want Sophia to find you like this. They’ve both missed you very much so you’re going to have to do a lot of explaining when you feel stronger, but in the meantime, go and have a rest.’
Feeling like a child again whose misery was self-inflicted and therefore deserving no sympathy, Rosie dragged herself to her feet and, clutching her precious handbag under her arm, half staggered across the room to the door. She stopped and turned to her grandmother.
‘You’ve no idea how happy I was,’ she said piteously. ‘The whole thing… it was the life I always wanted.’