Charlotte felt the next few weeks were the hardest in her life. While coping with her own grief, which at times threatened to overwhelm her, she had to try and keep life on an even keel for the children. Edie was easy. All Charlotte had to do was maintain the routine by which she already lived. Johnny was more difficult, and he became more and more demanding as the days went by. Billy had been a true family man and Charlotte hadn’t realised how often he’d taken the load from her shoulders by taking his son out with him, playing with him, helping to bath him.
‘Daddy’d let me,’ became Johnny’s regular reply to any refusal or prohibition from her. ‘Daddy says I can.’ It almost broke Charlotte’s heart, because on occasion she knew that Johnny was right. She was saying ‘no’ to things simply because she couldn’t be in two places at once... and if Billy had been there...
From a purely practical point of view she missed all the help he’d given her with their children; from an emotional one, she knew a deep and bitter chill in her life as each night she climbed into the empty bed and tried to sleep.
One morning, several weeks later, Charlotte went to see Mr Thompson, the solicitor in Cheddar who had managed her trust while she was still a minor. She had seen him at Billy’s funeral, but there had been nothing more than a handshake between them as the solicitor offered his condolences. It was David Swanson who suggested that she should go and see him now.
‘It would be a good idea to make sure how you stand financially, Charlotte,’ he said one afternoon when she’d brought the children to tea at the vicarage. ‘Although your trust was wound up some time ago, I know Mr Thompson is still advising you. And remember, I was a trustee, too, so I’m here if you want to discuss anything with me, now or in the future.’
Charlotte smiled at him gratefully. ‘I know,’ she said, ‘and I will go and see Mr Thompson soon and have a chat with him.’
‘Did Billy make a will?’ David asked.
‘I don’t know,’ admitted Charlotte. ‘I doubt it. I certainly haven’t.’
‘Well, perhaps that’s something you should consider,’ David suggested. ‘If anything should happen to you...’
Charlotte paled. ‘If anything happened to me?’
‘Well,’ David said gently, ‘you might want to name guardians for the children.’
They didn’t discuss the matter further, but it had given Charlotte food for thought, and she continued to think about it when the children were in bed that night.
She hadn’t given it any consideration until now, but she was almost certain that Billy had made no will. It had never been mentioned. What had he to leave? He made his living farming with his father. He received wages for his work on the farm and, as the son of the house, there was sometimes a bonus at the end of the year, but he had no property of his own. Neither of them had considered the necessity of making a will. Why should they? The world was at peace; they were young and had the future ahead of them. Together they would watch their children grow, guiding them along the way, seeing them reach maturity.
With Billy’s death, Charlotte must now look at the future from a different perspective. If something happened to her, the children would be adrift, as she had been adrift when she lost her own parents in the war. But whom could she name as their guardians? John and Margaret were the obvious answer, but Charlotte hesitated. She was sure they would agree if she asked them, but she felt they were the wrong generation. She knew that though Margaret wouldn’t have admitted it, she already found Johnny tiring, and starting again with a baby like Edie wouldn’t be easy either. Of course the children would grow older, but so would John and Margaret.
She thought of Jane. She was their aunt, but she wasn’t married and would have to cope alone. She was a single woman with her living to earn, her own life to lead. It wouldn’t be fair to burden her with two small children.
This was how Charlotte rationalised her dismissal of her sister-in-law as a possible guardian, but if she were honest, she knew it was because she disliked Jane; disliked her and didn’t want her children to come under her domination.
She thought of Naomi and Dan, but they were the other side of the country, far away from anything familiar to the children. If something should, God forbid, happen to her, Charlotte didn’t want the children uprooted and moved away from the only places and people they knew. Briefly she considered Clare and Malcolm, but not for more than a moment. They already had enough on their plates. Malcolm was taking over the lease of Havering Farm on Lady Day and they would be moving out of the village.
‘We shall have to work all the hours God sends,’ Clare had said when she told Charlotte about the move, ‘but it will be for ourselves. Malcolm is up and down about the whole thing. One minute he’s thrilled to bits to have our own farm to run and the next he’s panicking that he won’t make a go of it and everything will go wrong.’
‘But it’s such an exciting chance,’ Charlotte said. ‘And Malcolm knows what he’s doing.’
‘It is, and he does,’ Clare agreed, ‘but it’s going to be very hard. I shall do all I can, too, of course, but the house is old and needs a lot of work. Mr Flower hasn’t done anything to it for years. Oh, the building’s sound enough, the estate looks after that, but the inside is unbelievable.’
‘And you’ve got Agnes.’
‘And I’ve got Agnes,’ Clare agreed, ‘but I expect she’ll get easier as she gets older.’
Thinking of her own children, Charlotte was not at all sure about that, but she didn’t say so.
No, she thought now, there was no way she could ask Clare and Malcolm to take on the responsibility of two more children. Which brought her to the people who had always been waiting at the back of her mind. Caroline and Henry Masters. Though Henry was older than Caroline, they were still young enough to cope with two children if necessary. Charlotte loved Caroline dearly, knew that Johnny did too and Edie surely would as she grew to know her. Caroline was sensible and knew exactly how to handle children, treating them with loving firmness; understanding and dealing with their problems, as she’d understood Charlotte’s fear of enclosed places and helped her cope with air-raid shelters. Caroline was the only person Charlotte could think of with whom she felt confident entrusting her children. She could only hope that Caroline and Henry would be prepared to care for Johnny and Edie should the worst happen and the need arose.
Caroline had suggested that she bring the children to lunch one day and Charlotte took her up on this, giving herself the chance to broach the subject of guardians. At first Caroline was astonished at her request.
‘You want us, Henry and me, to become the children’s legal guardians if anything should happen to you?’
‘Yes,’ said Charlotte. ‘That’s it exactly. I know it’s a lot to ask of anyone...’
‘But surely, it should be someone in the family,’ Caroline said. ‘Mr and Mrs Shepherd, or Jane?’
Charlotte explained her reasons for not asking them, and Caroline had to admit she understood them.
‘You don’t have to make a decision now,’ Charlotte said. ‘But perhaps you could talk it over with Henry; see what he thinks?’
After much discussion, Caroline and Henry agreed that they could be named as guardians provided that Charlotte talked to her in-laws first and explained her decision. So, before she went to see Mr Thompson, Charlotte walked over to Charing Farm to see her parents-in-law.
She asked if they knew whether Billy had made a will, but they didn’t.
‘I never heard him mention one,’ Margaret said with a shake of her head.
‘Surely he’d have discussed it with you if he had,’ John pointed out.
‘I don’t think he did,’ Charlotte said, ‘but it was worth asking you. The thing is, the vicar has suggested it’s something I ought to do, so I’m going to see Mr Thompson and get things sorted out.’ She went on to explain about the children’s guardianship. ‘I know you’d do your very best for them if you had to, but...’ She paused awkwardly, not quite sure how to go on now that it came to the point.
‘But we’re too old,’ supplied John, and he gave her an understanding smile.
‘But we’d cope,’ insisted Margaret. ‘They’re our grandchildren, we’d give them a home, wouldn’t we, John?’
‘Of course,’ John agreed, ‘but let’s hear Charlotte out. I’m sure any decision she’s made hasn’t been taken lightly.’
Charlotte continued to explain what she intended. When she mentioned Jane she could see that her parents-in-law understood why she wasn’t suggesting she become the children’s guardian.
‘Of course, whoever is their guardian, you’d all be just as important in their lives as you are now, but it didn’t seem fair to ask Jane to give up her nursing and perhaps the chance of a family of her own.’
‘But she might never have to,’ Margaret said.
‘God forbid that she would,’ John put in. ‘God forbid that anyone will.’
By the time she went home again, Charlotte felt that John at least had accepted her reasons for asking Caroline and Henry ahead of them. He walked with her to the farm gate.
‘Don’t worry about Margaret,’ he said. ‘She understands really, and of course we both respect your decision. It’s a provision you’re right to make, even though it’ll probably never take effect.’ He took her hand and gave it a squeeze. ‘You’re a good mother, Charlotte. We know our grandchildren are safe with you, whatever you decide.’ With these words echoing in her head, Charlotte made her appointment with Mr Thompson.
Mr Thompson was a man in his fifties, balding with a fringe of grey hair round the back of his head. He looked with clear grey eyes through pince-nez glasses that gripped his nose. Charlotte had always felt at ease with him, ever since she’d first met him seven years earlier. He was waiting for her as she came up the stairs and he greeted her with a handshake and a warm smile as he led her into his office, asking his secretary, Miss Duke, to bring them some tea.
‘Mrs Shepherd, Charlotte, if I still may call you that? I’m so sorry for your loss,’ he said when he’d settled her into a chair.
Charlotte managed a smile. ‘Thank you, Mr Thompson.’ She was grateful he said no more, that much she could cope with.
Mr Thompson had always had a lot of time for Charlotte. Over the years he’d been her trustee they had met on several occasions and he’d come to admire her strength and common sense. ‘An old head on young shoulders,’ he’d once said to his wife.
He looked at her now, sitting opposite him, pale-faced but determined, and smiled. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘what can I do for you today?’
‘Two main things,’ Charlotte replied, happy to get onto the safe ground of business. ‘First, I need to know how my finances stand. Obviously we shan’t have Billy’s money coming in, so I need to know how much money I have to live on. The second is that I want to make a will.’
‘Ah,’ said Mr Thompson as he removed his pince-nez and rubbed his eyes before replacing them. ‘That’s a very sensible move.’
Miss Duke brought in the tea tray, poured them each a cup of tea and then disappeared again. As they drank their tea Mr Thompson explained how much income she could expect from Miss Edie’s legacy.
‘Well, as you know,’ he said, ‘the interest from the shares and bonds Miss Everard left you have been providing you with an income. Up until now, you’ve only been taking a portion of this and the rest we’ve been reinvesting for you. You have a fair amount of cash in the bank, available to use straight away, but if the interest from these investments has become your sole source of income, and you’re relying on it for the maintenance of your family, you’ll have to keep a careful watch on your expenditure. Of course you already own your house, so there is no rent to pay, but there will be other outgoings which you’ll have to budget for.’
They discussed the amount of money she could reasonably expect to live on and Charlotte realised that she did, indeed, need to watch her outgoings if she were not to touch her capital.
They spent the next half-hour discussing her will, which, Mr Thompson said, would not be complicated to draw up as she wanted it. He made several suggestions for her to consider and when she finally left his office and went to catch the afternoon bus back to Wynsdown, Charlotte felt that she was beginning to get a grip on things. She was dealing with the practicalities of life, and they left her little time to indulge her grief.
Back in Wynsdown she went to collect the children from Caroline.
‘Hallo, you two,’ she said, ‘have you been good for Auntie Caro?’
‘Good as gold,’ Caroline said as she led her into the sitting room.
Edie was sitting up on the floor, surrounded by cushions in case she forgot what she was doing, and when she saw Charlotte, she held out her arms to her. Charlotte bent down and scooped her up for a hug before settling her on her hip and turning to see what Johnny was doing. He was sitting up at the table, the soldiers he’d brought with him lined up in battle order in front of him.
He glanced across at her. ‘The reds are the baddies today,’ he told her. ‘The blue men are winning.’
‘That makes a change,’ laughed Charlotte, and with Edie still in her arms she flopped down into an armchair, gratefully accepting Caroline’s offer of tea. She felt exhausted.
‘You look tired,’ Caroline said as she poured and handed Charlotte a cup.
‘I feel it,’ confessed Charlotte, sipping the hot tea.
‘Not sleeping?’ asked Caroline.
‘Not very well,’ she admitted. ‘And even when I do, I seem to wake up tired.’
‘Why not ask Henry to give you something to help you sleep properly?’ suggested Caroline, adding, ‘I thought he had, actually.’
‘He did give me some tablets,’ replied Charlotte, ‘but I haven’t been taking them. I don’t want to be woozy if I have to get up to Edie in the night.’
‘I thought she was sleeping through?’
‘She was, she is, but just occasionally she stirs and I have to get up to her.’
‘Well, even so, I think you should come and see Henry. Perhaps you’re anaemic or something and need a tonic. I’m sure he could give you something to perk you up... make you feel less tired.’
‘Maybe,’ Charlotte agreed wearily. ‘I’ll think about it. Right now I need to get these two home and ready for bed.’ She set her teacup aside and struggled to her feet. ‘Come on, Johnny, time to go home.’
‘I don’t want to,’ Johnny protested. ‘I want to stay here, with Auntie Caro.’
‘Well, you can’t,’ Charlotte said firmly. ‘It’s time to go. Let’s find your coat and boots and then we’ll go home for tea.’
‘We could have tea here,’ Johnny said truculently.
‘No, we couldn’t,’ Charlotte snapped. ‘Auntie Caro’s got things to do. You’ve had a lovely time with her, but now we’ve got to go home.’
Johnny’s lip trembled. ‘I want Daddy,’ he said.
Before Charlotte could collect herself to reply, Caroline said, ‘Of course you do, darling. We all miss him.’ She gathered the little boy to her and held him close for a moment and then said, ‘Tell you what, why don’t I put my coat and boots on, too, and walk home with you?’ She set him down and led him out of the room to find their outdoor clothes. Charlotte remained where she was for several moments, clinging to Edie, fighting the tears that threatened to overwhelm her.
When they finally reached Blackdown House, Caroline came indoors with them and stayed while the children had their tea and then helped put them to bed. She was seriously concerned about Charlotte. She knew she was stretched to breaking point; wraith-thin with a pale face and haunted eyes, it was clear she was exhausted. She waited in the kitchen, washing up the tea things until Charlotte came downstairs from reading Johnny his bedtime story. She was determined to say something.
‘Charlotte,’ she said when Charlotte sank onto a chair at the kitchen table, ‘what are you going to eat yourself?’
Charlotte shrugged. ‘I don’t know, I’ll find something later on.’
‘That’s not good enough, Charlotte,’ Caroline said, her voice echoing the tones she’d used on recalcitrant children at Livingston Road. ‘You have to eat properly to keep your strength up. What’s going to happen to the children if you become ill?’
‘I’m fine,’ Charlotte said. ‘Really, Caroline, you don’t have to worry about me. It’s just been a long day, that’s all. I’ll have an early night.’
‘I am worried about you,’ Caroline said more gently. ‘I really think you may be anaemic. I wish you’d come and see Henry.’
‘All right.’ Charlotte was too tired to argue. ‘I’ll see if Margaret can have the children one morning and then come in to the surgery.’
‘Come tomorrow morning,’ suggested Caroline, anxious to strike while the iron was hot. ‘I’ll look after the children while you see Henry.’
‘Tomorrow morning,’ Charlotte agreed wearily, and with that Caroline gave her a hug and went back home.