Angelique (28 page)

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Authors: Carl Leckey

BOOK: Angelique
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He looks shocked and enquires. “In here with you my Lord a baby cot? You will be having the baby in here with you?”

“Yes Cecil he is my Son and I want him close to my Wife and I.”

He doesn’t appear able to cope with the request for the first time he questions my orders.

“But, er, what about the nursery and the er, nursemaid my Lord?

Surely you don’t want to be disturbed by a baby at night? That’s why the nursery is located on the other side of the house.”

When I don’t reply he adds hurriedly. “If that’s what you really require my Lord I shall arrange it of course.”

I have second thoughts. “Tell you what Cecil let’s wait until my Wife arrives and see what she wants to do, that’s fair enough. Now you say the nursery in on the other side of the house?”

“Yes my Lord shall I show you?”

“No, no. I’ll find it myself it will give me the opportunity to explore the house.” He directs me. “It is along the main landing next to the studio. If that’s all, my Lord, I need to set up for dinner. For you information dinner will be served at eight o’clock in the main dining room.”

“Do we dress formally for dinner Cecil?”

“But of course my Lord that goes without saying it’s the custom in this house the General erm your Grandfather insisted upon it? You will find your evening attire hanging in the dressing room. I took the liberty of preparing it for you.”

I try yet another joke just to see if I can raise a smile. “What’s on the menu Cecil one of your good Ladies steak and kidney puddings, followed by jam Rolly poly I hope?”

Without a smile he replies. “Let me think, yes this being Wednesday it will be rib of beef my Lord. The staff will be eating the steak and kidney pudding my Lord.”

I answer regretfully. “Oh! Pity I’m not a chauffeur then. Thank you Cecil I will see later you at dinner.”

When he leaves I explore the room further. The temperature is quite pleasant yet there is no fire located in the room. I discover radiators concealed behind ornate fretted covers.

There are a couple of easy chairs and a dressing table topped with attractive mirrors.

Electric lights are installed at the bedside and on the ceiling, I have to admire the house, it is all very modern.

All my shirts etc are hanging neatly in wardrobes or in the drawers concealed behind mirrored doors in a dressing room. My evening attire as Cecil called it is indeed ready for me to don. Another door leads to an en suite bathroom and toilet. Very posh the main bedroom covers the same area as the whole of the ground floor of the house I was raised in.

After exploring the room fully I follow Cecil’s instructions and head for the nursery. Opening a door I presume is the nursery when I enter I find myself in a strangely equipped room. As I look around I realise it is an artist’s studio. Half the ceiling consists of a huge skylight to permit the maximum entry of natural light. One wall consists of a picture window overlooking gardens and immaculately tended lawns. Paints brushes etc all accoutrements an artist utilises are scattered about as if an artist has recently gone to lunch, except everything is covered in dust and cobwebs. On an easel concealed by a cloth cover is a nearly complete oil painting of two young girls playing with a dog on the very lawn viewed through the window. Stacked in a corner are blank canvasses and framed pictures. I casually sort through them. Most of the completed paintings are of either a single child or a pair of children except for a single larger one. I extract if from the stack and discover the subject is a beautiful young Lady. But the odd feature is the Lady is obviously very pregnant something I must admit I have never seen depicted in a painting before.

I replace it amongst the others and continue inspecting the studio.

There is another canvas on the far wall hung in a position that gained the maximum light from the large window. The artist that completed this study used a totally different style than all the other paintings in the studio. The scene depicts a seascape, by the construction of the craft it appears to be set some time in the last century. I look closer and find in the bottom right hand corner is the name J M W Turner. The signature means nothing to me but a note pinned to wall alongside it intrigues me. It reads.

He was the artist of light I must try and achieve his technique
.

The note ends abruptly with nothing further comments added. I wonder what it all means? This is yet another family mystery to try and solve?

The uncarpeted room is sparsely furnished the only pieces being a couple of hard chairs, a chezlounge and a full length mirror. It is all very odd I wonder who the artist is, or should I say was?

Feeling like an intruder I exit the room and carefully close the door.

There is no mistaking the nursery when I arrive at the next door, the sound of female laughter is clear even through the thick wooden door.

I knock and Mothers voice invites me to enter. Another splendid room confronts me equipped with all kinds of children’s toys.

A magnificent pair of dolls houses dominates the room. But the sight that startles me at the same time I find amusing is the three Ladies seated on the carpet surrounding a baby’s bath tub located on a rubber sheet. Mathew is splashing away soaking the three of them.

Instead of being annoyed they are convulsed with laughter.

I don’t know whether it is my presence that terminates the jollifications but the Ladies rise up from the floor. Pamela lifts Mathew from the bath and wraps him in large fluffy towel and takes him into another room. Strange I can’t help feeling like an intruder again.

Mother asks. “Well my boy, what have you been up to since we arrived?” We sit in the armchairs in front of the fire when I reply.

“I have had a visit from Jonah Wilkes bringing me good news. Denise arrives tomorrow I will be meeting her at Dover.” Mother expresses her delight at the news.

Emily enquires rather abashed. “Did he mention anything else?”

“Yes we discussed the debt problems which are temporary resolved. According to him there is a long term solution we shall explore shortly.”

Emily appears to relax. I add. “We also discussed this title you have bestowed on me dear Aunt Emily.”

Unexpectedly she blushes and replies in an argumentative manner.

“I didn’t bestow it on you dear Nephew you are entitled to it, it is your birthright.”

Mother intercedes. “May I make a suggestion? While we are together may we drop the titles? I should like to be referred to as plain Angelique. Emily, Adam do you agree?”

I reply using her name she requests. “It’s not that title that concerns me Angelique. According to the law of the land Bastards cannot claim the title to knighthood.”

Angelique looks shocked at the use of the term describing myself as a bastard. “You are not er one of those, your Father offered to marry me and your Father’s name is on your birth certificate that should make a difference, isn’t that right Emily?” Emily replies. “He did Angelique. Adam if you drop the use of the title then how shall the servants refer to you, they will lose their respect.”

I laugh and inform her. “I don’t need a handle to my name to gain respect from servants Emily. Alright let’s drop the subject for a while shall we? I don’t want to cause any upset on our first day in this beautiful family house. I have asked Jonah’s advice I will be guided by him. So what have you three been up to since we arrived you seemed to be having some good fun when I came into the nursery?”

Emily delights in telling me. “Oh! We were just bathing Mathew he is quite a chap, he’s full off mischief I suspect he gets that from his Father. We have had a lovely day with him considering he has had all that travelling he is remarkably active.”

I reply. “I think he enjoys having three Mothers. Like all of us males he likes being fussed over by lovely Ladies. My compliments are accepted with smiles. “And tomorrow his real Mother will be arriving I wonder who he will adopt then?” Emily retorts. “There is no question of him adopting one or other of us. He is part of this family, Mathew is our child. There is not much likelihood of Angelique or I having a child of our own. You may as well accept it Adam the boy belongs to all of us.” Mother says ironically. “Speak for yourself Emily I haven’t given up hope yet.”

Shocked by her statement I retort. “Good God Mother are we talking about Luigi here?” She rebukes me. “Don’t blaspheme dear. As for Luigi Fathering a child of mine?” She blushes and adds shyly. “We live in hope.” Her response leaves me in a quandary. Quite wrongly it seems I believed Mother, my Mother was passed having ambitions to experience childbirth again.

I am grateful when Pamela enters the room giving me the opportunity to change the subject. I am finding this talk increasingly embarrassing.

Pamela is without Mathew I enquire. “Where is my Son Pamela?”

She looks uncomfortable and replies. “I have put him down for his sleep Adam.” She adds lamely. “He always has a sleep at this time.”

Mother and Emily nod approvingly. Mother says. “Quite right children need their rest.”

I have to accept this is his routine I am not brave enough to face the formidable opposition their united front presents. Instead of pursuing the matter I invite Pamela to join us. It is evident she is still having problems being in my presence. In an attempt to put her at ease I inform her. “Pamela. Didn’t you tell me you had taken up painting when you lived with Mrs Jones?”

“Yes I did water colours and began to use oils when dear Mrs Jones died, why do you ask?”

I explain. “Simply because I discovered next door there is a splendid studio.

I entered there by mistake when I was looking for the nursery.” Emily enquires in a hushed voice. “You actually went into Mothers Studio?”

She pauses then asks. “What is it like?” Her manner of asking makes me uneasy when I reply. “It’s a lovely room an artist would give his or her eye teeth for it, have you never been in there?”

Emily replies thoughtfully. “No Father forbade us to go near the room. My Mother collapsed in there she died giving birth to me in that very room. As far as I know it has been kept locked ever since. You say the door opened easily?”

This is spooky I answer. “Yes with no trouble there was no key in the lock.” Emily looks at Angelique and asks. “Did you ever try the door?” Mother replies. “Not on your life I believed it was locked. It never entered my head to disobey Father.” Emily replies. “Neither did I. From the moment I have been able to walk and understand I have avoided the room on the instructions of Father.

He forbad the servants to enter the room as well. It must be about thirty six years since anyone went into there.” Emily sits quietly for a moment then suddenly asks. “Would you come with me Adam I should like to see where my Mother died?”

Angelique adds. “And me, you are not leaving me out.”

Pamela enquires. “May I come along?

Pamela checks Mathew is fast asleep and we all troop to the studio.

I open the door and step inside, Emily, Pamela and Mother, crowd together on the threshold peering into the room.

Pamela is the first to actually enter the room she wanders about making appreciative noises. Mother and Emily enter hesitantly holding hands like two frightened children.

Emily whispers, awe apparent in her voice. “I was born in hear Angelique and Mother died, can you feel anything?”

Angelique replies reassuringly. “Please don’t be afraid, Emily dear, I feel she is here welcoming us. This room is not menacing in any way.”

Emily replies in a hushed voice. “I have a feeling of happiness, contentment. I feel Mother is welcoming Pamela, Adam and the child into our family.”

Still holding hands they cross the room to the covered easel. Pamela strips the dusty cover away. Both women gasp, Emily’s hand goes to her mouth, Mother whispers. “My God Emily it’s us. But how could that be? The dog it’s Patch, how could she have known about him? Your Mother was already dead ten years before we acquired Patch? How could she have painted a scene with us in it ten years before it happened?”

Emily backs towards the door. Mother urges her to return.

“Look Emily? Don’t go away please come back dear I am sure it’s a message from your Mother.” Emily returns and takes hold of Mothers hand.

Pamela joins them and holds her other hand. Angelique says. “Somehow your Mother foresaw the future. Oh I wish she had finished it. What a beautiful picture it would have been?”

Pamela says in a faraway voice. “I could finish it.”

I draw her attention to the picture and note on the far wall. Pamela wanders over and when she has a clear look at the picture she gasps with delight and exclaims. “Good God! I believe you have a treasure here. Do you realise this is a Turner?” The Ladies go into an immediate huddle around the painting. Again I feel like an intruder I quietly leave the room and return to the nursery. I enter the smaller room where Mathew sleeps. The room is furnished with a baby’s cot a comfortable nursing chair and a single bed. Set in the wall is a door, inquisitive I open it to see it leads into a huge bedroom similar to the one I occupy.

Closing the door I take a seat by Mathew’s cot admiring my lovely Son as he peacefully sleeps. While I am alone I plan my tactics. I decide together these three Ladies are quite formidable I realise I have to be firm and brook no arguments or debate I will inform them of my intentions and they can like it or lump it as the expressions goes.

Ten minutes later they return to the nursery. Since I left them they have decided Pamela will be taking up painting again using the studio. Before I leave to bath and dress for dinner I drop a bombshell.

“This concerns all of you so I may as well announce it now. When Denise arrives here she will decide if Mathew stays in the nursery or we move him into our room. I intend remaining for a couple more days then we shall be returning to France taking Mathew with us of course. Tomorrow I have decided to travel to Dover in the Rolls to greet Denise when she arrives. I am taking Mathew with me she will want to see him as soon as possible.”

Silence greets my announcement. Taking it my proposals are satisfactory I leave them and return to my bedroom. While I lie luxuriating in my bath I begin having doubts. I am very pleased that Mathew and I have been accepted into the family. Will my assertive attitude set them against my Wife?

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