Legacy of Greyladies (12 page)

He knocked on the door, eager to get this over and done with so that he could pick up Olivia and enjoy her company during the drive to London. Perhaps if he could get away before noon, they could stop to enjoy a luncheon together on the way. He’d enjoy chatting to her again.

Mildred opened the door herself, greeting him with: ‘Goodness, you must have set off from London at the crack of dawn to get here so soon. We’ve only just got back ourselves. We spent Christmas with Edwin’s cousins in the country.’

He couldn’t lie to her and confessed that he’d come to Swindon the day before on a whim.

She linked her arm in his and took him into a small sitting room at the rear of the house. ‘You should have rung and told us. We could have taken you with us to the country, if I’d thought. Where did you stay?’

‘In Mother’s house. What a gloomy place it is! How did you bear it for three years? It feels far worse than when I used to live there.’

‘I stood it because it was my duty. But I will admit that after your father died, your mother became even grumpier and after she fell ill – and she really was ill, Alex – she grew positively cantankerous. It was as if her misery had embedded itself in the very walls. Sometimes I just had to get out of the house, however much she scolded me when I got back for deserting her.’

‘She was an expert at scolding!’ he said with feeling.

‘Yes, but fortunately I had my own money from my mother, and I wasn’t dependent on her charity. She had nothing to threaten me with and didn’t dare go too far in what she said, in case I left.’

‘Where did you go for relief from the misery?’

‘Anywhere I could be with normal people, like the library or shops. I met friends in a tea shop every Tuesday and Friday afternoon, too. In summer, if it was fine, I’d go to the nearest park. I love to watch children playing. They’re so free and joyful.’

She smiled. ‘I’m so much happier with my Edwin, I can’t tell you how much! But what a shame you didn’t know we were away. I hate to think of you on your own.’

‘It doesn’t matter. I’d have been on my own at home as well.’

Tears welled in her eyes and she leant across to take hold of his hand. ‘My dear Alex, I do worry about you. I pray you too will meet someone to love.’ She touched his lips lightly with one fingertip to stop him speaking. ‘You’ve given up hope of it, I know, as I had when I met my dearest Edwin. But I shall keep reminding you that miracles do occur. I’m the living proof that older people can find a person to love.’

‘I’m not much of a prize, Mildred.’

‘You’re belittling yourself again. Stop it. I’ve been hoping that our mutual friend Babs would introduce you to someone suitable.’

He was moved by her concern. ‘Well, as it turns out, she did. I had dinner with a friend of hers yesterday evening in Swindon, and with the lady’s lodgers as well. She’s a widow called Olivia Harbury.’

Mildred’s face brightened. ‘That’s wonderful. How did that come about?’

‘I’d agreed to drive Mrs Harbury to London today, so I picked her up in the village where she was staying with an obnoxious fellow, who’s her cousin, and I left her at her own house for the night. In return she invited me to dine there.’

‘I won’t tease you, but am I right in thinking that you like her?’

‘I do. But she’s still grieving for her husband. Anyway, it’s early days yet. She’s a very new acquaintance. Now, let’s change the subject. I must say, it makes me happy to see that you’re starting to enjoy a more normal social life, Mildred.’

‘It was the best Christmas I’ve ever had. We were determined to ignore the war for once, so we played charades and told riddles. When we tired of that, we talked of the theatre and books we’d read,
not
about who’d been killed or how the latest offensive was going. Edwin’s cousins are delightful people.’

There was the sound of a door opening and closing. She cocked her head on one side and glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece. ‘That’s probably Edwin coming back. He nipped into the office to get some documents from his safe. We didn’t like to leave them lying around here while we were away.’

She opened her mouth as if to say something, half-closed it and (Alex was quite sure) substituted the more mundane question, ‘Did you have any breakfast?’

‘Yes, Mama Mildred,’ he mocked. ‘Even a mere man can recognise a bakery when he needs food.’

‘Of course you can. So we’ll have our normal morning tea and then …’

‘Then you’ll tell me what all this fuss is about.’

Her smile vanished. ‘Yes. Something must be done about it, that’s for sure.’

The way she was acting was making him feel anxious. It wasn’t like Mildred to keep something from him.

Phoebe didn’t tell her husband her special news on the evening of his return. She could see he was exhausted and deeply worried about his father. She didn’t want this joyful news linked to such sadness.

And then on Boxing Day, just as she was about to tell him, they had visitors from the village, and later some of the internees they knew, like the Steins, came to wish them well. So there never seemed to be a suitable time.

In the evening the internees put on a concert, and though the elderly voices might have sounded rather thin at times, the musicians playing instruments put on virtuoso performances. The two best pianists provided ‘Fûr Elise’ by Beethoven and ‘The Moonlight Sonata’ by Chopin. A violinist played ‘Love’s Old Sweet Song’ very sweetly.

After that they had a sing-song, with old favourites such as ‘My Grandfather’s Clock’ and ‘The Last Rose of Summer’, which all the foreigners seemed to know, since a lot of them were musical.

But someone started them on ‘Home! Sweet Home!’ and that reduced several people to tears, so they went on
to some of the war favourites like the recently written and very popular ‘Pack Up Your Troubles in Your Old Kit-Bag’, which cheered them up again.

Phoebe decided the news couldn’t wait any longer and planned to tell Corin when they went to bed. At least no one could disturb them there. But he was delayed by Captain Turner asking him if he could spare a moment, and she fell asleep before he joined her.

When she woke, Corin was beside her, smiling, and she decided she wasn’t letting him leave the bedroom till he knew he was going to become a father. She rang for Ethel to bring them a tea tray.

‘We’ll have breakfast half an hour later than usual,’ she told the maid and could see Ethel smile fondly at them both, as if she understood what was going on.

Corin lay back against the pillows, his eyes gleaming. ‘Any particular reason for that instruction?’

‘My reason isn’t what you’re hoping for – at least, not yet.’

He tried to pull her to him for a kiss, but she held him off. ‘Not yet, darling. I have something very important to tell you first.’ She took a deep breath. ‘I— I mean,
we
are expecting a baby.’

He stared for a moment open-mouthed, then beamed and pulled her closer. ‘Why didn’t you tell me as soon as I got back?’

‘You were so sad, and then there didn’t seem to be a quiet moment. I wanted us to have time to rejoice together about our coming child. I meant to tell you last night, but I fell asleep. I seem to need more sleep these days.’

‘You haven’t been sick in the mornings. I thought women were sick a lot.’

‘Some are, some aren’t. I must be one of the lucky ones.’

She snuggled against him as his arm went round her, resting her head in the crook of his shoulder. If only they could be together like this every morning! They’d got married during a war that seemed to have been going on forever so they’d never had a normal life.

‘Have you seen the doctor about your condition?’

‘No. It’s early days and I’ve spoken to Mrs Archer in the village. She was a trained nurse before she married Peter Archer. She’s a very experienced registered midwife, with a certificate from the Royal College of Physicians of Ireland, no less. I’ve spoken to her and I liked her manner. Indeed, she’s well thought of by everyone in the district, including Miss Bowers.’

‘That’s good but I want you to have a doctor’s care as well. You’re far too important to me to take any risks.’

‘Oh, pish! What risks? I’m feeling fine. Having children isn’t an illness. It’s a perfectly natural thing.’

‘We must tell the maids, so that they don’t let you lift anything heavy.’

She chuckled. ‘They’ve not said anything but it’s clear they’ve guessed. We live too closely together for them not to notice certain signs.’

‘Nonetheless, I shall ask them to take particular care of you. Oh, my darling, isn’t it wonderful?’

They lay closely entwined in blissful silence, then he stirred. ‘Do you know when it’s due?’

‘Early June. We’ll have plenty of time to think about names and discuss them on your next leave.’

‘If it’s a boy, my family usually alternates Corin and Angus for the firstborn sons.’

She wrinkled her nose, not pleased by this suggestion.
‘You’re the only Corin I want, and I’m not fond of Angus for a name, though I suppose we could use it as a second name if you feel strongly about it. I like the name Robert, actually.’

‘Hmm. Not bad. We’ll see. What about girls’ names?’

‘I can’t seem to think of those. Perhaps that means it’s going to be a boy. I’m certainly hoping so. If I give you a son, your home can stay in the family, because a male can’t inherit Greyladies. It isn’t even certain a daughter would, because something mysterious always leads to the next chatelaine, and the only thing certain is that she will be a Latimer.

When Phoebe had first come to the house, she’d not known anything about the legend of the grey ladies, or the wonderful trust fund that provided money to help less fortunate women.

After a few more quiet moments, he nuzzled her neck. ‘Are you still able to pleasure your poor deprived husband? I won’t press you, if you don’t feel like it.’

‘Always ready for you.’ She lifted her face for his kiss.

They were even later going down to breakfast than she’d intended and she blushed as she met Ethel’s knowing gaze.

After they’d eaten, Corin went down to the village on his own, claiming he needed a brisk walk but in reality intending to speak sharply to this Hatterson fellow, and also to size him up.

A little dab of a woman opened the door to him and said her husband was away, then tried to close the door as he was saying something.

Corin put out one hand to stop her. ‘Wait a moment, please. Where is Mr Hatterson? I need to see him urgently.’

She shook her head. ‘Sidney wouldn’t like me discussing
his business with anyone else, and anyway, I don’t know where he is.’

‘Well, when is he coming back?’

‘He wasn’t certain.’

‘Does he often go away like this?’

She hesitated, then said, ‘Please understand … since Sidney’s lost his leg he’s changed. He’s always angry, even though we inherited his old uncle’s house and aren’t short of money. You can’t really blame him for being upset about the leg, though. He was a very active man. If he’s upset you, I’m sorry.’

In spite of himself he felt for her. ‘It must be hard for you, as well.’

She shrugged. ‘I’m not the only woman whose husband has been changed by the war.’

‘Well, it’s important that I see him in person, so I’ll call again tomorrow.’

She gave a small nod of farewell and closed the door quietly.

He heard the bolt slide and wondered why she felt the need to lock up.

He didn’t take her word about her husband’s absence, but called on Miss Bowers, who confirmed that Mr Hatterson had gone away in a motor car with another two men in the early hours of the morning, waking her and the other neighbours up.

‘The men were strangers, not people from hereabouts and the car wasn’t one I’d ever seen before.’

He knocked at the house across the road, but the woman there couldn’t tell one car from another. ‘All I know is I don’t want to see it again. Woke the baby, it did, and it was two hours before I could get him to sleep again.’

Old Mr Diggan was passing in the street and, as he lived next to the Hattersons, Corin asked him if he knew anything.

‘Well, I know they woke me. I looked out of the window to see what was going on, but he was just getting into a car. I think the same men have called for him before. They may be friends of his, if he has any friends. What did his wife say?’

‘Not much.’

‘Never does.
He
does enough talking for them both. I hear his voice sometimes if the window’s open. On and on he goes, talking
at
her, not chatting, if you know what I mean. And he thumps her. She tries to hide it, but I’ve heard her scream, heard the furniture knocked over and seen the bruises. I never thought I’d have a neighbour like that in Challerton! No, I did not.’

‘Well, thank you for your help.’ Corin walked slowly back to the big house, wondering now whether Hatterson had left Challerton to avoid him. Surely not? The man wouldn’t have known he was expected back. What was going on here, then? Why leave in the middle of the night?

Whatever it was, he hoped Hatterson wouldn’t continue to rant on about Huns. People could turn very nasty about the presence of Germans, and had already in some parts of England, smashing businesses and looting them, injuring the poor foreigners, who had nothing to do with the war.

And why these people would attack his wife and the rear house, which didn’t contain any Germans, was beyond his understanding. All he knew was that he felt helpless to protect his wife. Unfortunately, the army and the war waited for no man, so he would have to leave in two days’ time.

Perhaps Captain Turner would be able to use the attack
as an excuse for getting more men posted to Greyladies?

He answered that thought himself as soon as it popped into his mind.
That wasn’t likely
.

General Sir Douglas Haig had taken over command of the British Expeditionary Force in Europe, and rumour among the officers was that he believed in all-out offensives. That would take more men away from Britain. And it’d kill more men in that hell across the Channel. Corin didn’t think most of the civilian population understood how bad things were in the trenches, at least he hoped they didn’t.

He didn’t intend to leave Challerton without doing
something
to protect his wife and home. He had made it his business to get to know people in the neighbourhood earlier in the war, while he was commandant at Greyladies. He intended to ask for help and advice from one or two older men who were considered leaders in the local community.

And perhaps Miss Bowers might be able to think of something. The former headmistress of the village school was in her late seventies now, but still spry with a sharp brain. Her love for Greyladies was matched only by her love for the village and the people she’d taught in its school over the years.

He wondered sometimes about Greyladies. Sometimes chatelaines like Phoebe stayed only for a few years, as Harriet, the previous lady, had done; sometimes they stayed there for the rest of their lives.

He couldn’t help wondering into which category his Phoebe would fit, and whether he would ever live in his own home in the north again. He had more or less given up his own family inheritance when he married her, and if –
when
his father died, he would put in a manager and find a smaller
house for his mother to live in. He’d already discussed that with her. He wasn’t selling his home.

He’d even changed his name to Latimer to marry Phoebe, and hoped he’d hidden how much that had upset him.

He hadn’t expected to love someone so deeply after his first wife and unborn baby had been killed because of her reckless driving. But then he’d met Phoebe, who wasn’t reckless and who was … simply the most wonderful woman in the world.

She would be careful now she was carrying his child, he knew, but she was also very protective about the house and that might inadvertently lead her into danger. He’d lost one wife and child, couldn’t bear even the thought of losing Phoebe.

Dammit! Why did this have to happen while he couldn’t help being away for most of the time? He wanted to be here protecting the woman he loved.

And yet his country needed his services desperately too. The battle to defeat Germany was going to be hard fought.

Edwin came into the hall bringing a swirl of cold air from outside. He hung up his outer clothes then joined Mildred and Alex in the sitting room. Putting his briefcase down on the table, he looked solemnly at his wife. ‘I have a client coming to see me in an hour’s time, so let’s get started straight away.’

She nodded and turned to Alex. ‘This is to do with your older brother.’

He was puzzled. ‘Ernest died in 1905. How is he connected with anything that happens now?’

‘We’ve found out he was secretly married and had two children.’

Alex couldn’t speak for a few seconds, he was so shocked.
‘Ernest had children?’

‘Yes.’

‘Did my mother know?’

‘We’re not sure, but your father definitely knew. We found the relevant information among his papers. As to your mother knowing … well, the documents didn’t seem to have been touched for a long time, they were so dusty.’

‘Father wouldn’t have told her,’ Alex said. ‘He was a firm believer in shielding ladies from unpleasant facts. And my mother wouldn’t even have looked at business papers.’ He frowned. ‘When did Ernest marry? He died so suddenly. How did he have time to produce two children?’

‘They were only nine months apart, a boy and a girl, and he’d been married for years.’

Alex let out a low whistle. ‘Did he make provision for them?’

‘No. Not at all.’

‘Typical of him. Do we know where they are now?’

‘We think they’re still alive but we don’t even know their names. Your father didn’t have a copy of the marriage or birth certificates among his papers.’

‘He was planning to keep the children’s existence secret, then. You know what he was like, Mildred.’

‘Yes. Edwin didn’t believe me when I told him about my uncle’s slyness.’

Her husband patted her hand. ‘I’m beginning to,’ he said grimly. ‘The last address we have was in Swindon, but I sent my clerk to check the house and Ernest’s widow and children were no longer living there. Actually, though your father didn’t make regular provision for them, he didn’t completely
ignore them either. He occasionally responded to requests for specific help with things like clothing or schooling.’

‘He’d have made the mother beg for it,’ Alex commented and Mildred nodded agreement.

Edwin tapped the papers with one finger. ‘Reading between the lines, Ernest’s widow must have been a capable woman, and hard-working, because you know how difficult it is for single or widowed women to earn a decent living wage. Though Mrs Seaton may have found it easier since the war because women working in men’s jobs are getting similar pay to the men, if not quite as much.’