No Wings to Fly (41 page)

‘Well,’ he said, ‘I reckon this is goodbye for now, then.’

‘But not for long this time, right?’ She reached out and pressed his arm. ‘I shan’t be much longer at my address in Little Patten, but you can always write to me at Miss Balfour’s.’

‘I know.’

‘Shall I walk with you to the square?’

‘No, that’s all right – I’ll ’ave to get a move on. What you gunna do now?’

‘I think I’ll just sit here for a while, then I’ll go and get my train.’

‘Right.’ Turning to the window, he looked down onto the cobbled square below. Now that the rain had ceased, the townsfolk were out again and going about their business. ‘We’re so high up ’ere,’ Tom said, and gave a little shudder. ‘It gives me the creeps. It’s like one of the windows at Wentworth – ‘cept this one don’t ’ave any bars.’

‘Tom – don’t.’ Lily reached out to him. ‘Don’t think of such things.’

‘I can’t ’elp it.’ He gave a little shrug. ‘I still get nightmares sometimes.’

‘Tom – oh, my dear, you must try to forget it. You really must.’

‘Yeh – I know, but easier said than done.’

‘Of course, but – oh, you must try to put all that behind you. It’s all in the past.’

‘Yeh.’ He nodded, turning his back on the window and the view. ‘That’s what I tell meself.’

‘Well, it is. You’ll never see the place again.’

‘No, that I won’t.’ He spoke with a quiet note of passion. ‘I’d never go back there.’

Standing facing him, she reached up and touched at the flower in his buttonhole, then smoothed down his jacket’s lapels. She watched his mouth soften again, then said, ‘Shall I see you again soon?’

‘Well, yeh – I’ll try to come in again next Friday if you like.’

‘Yes, that would be fine. At about the same time?’

‘Yeh, I’ll try to get in for an hour or so. Mr Ballantine comes in regular, he says. I reckon he’ll bring me.’

‘Good. Good. All right, then. I’ll see you next Friday. If anything should come up I’ll let you know.’

‘Ah, right.’ He paused. ‘I meant what I said just now. I’m never gunna bring you any more trouble. I won’t let you down again, Lil, believe me. I want you to be proud of me.’

‘I
am
proud of you.’

They stood facing one another. ‘Have you got money?’ she asked. As he hesitated, she said, ‘You’ve got to have something. You can’t go round without a penny in your pocket.’

‘That’s all right; I’ll be gettin’ paid tomorrow.’

‘You sure? I’ve got a little if you need it.’

‘No, it’s all right, honest.’ He looked at her for a moment in silence, then put his hands on her shoulders, bent, and kissed her on the forehead. ‘It’s been real champion to see you, Lil.’

‘Yes. Yes, it’s been so good.’

‘It’s only you and me now, right?’

‘Yes. Only you and me.’

‘Right.’ He looked down at her for a second, then turned and started away. Lily watched him as he moved out of the
room and disappeared from her sight, his boots sounding hollow on the polished floor, then fading as he descended the stairs. Turning, she moved to the window and looked down, and a minute later saw him appear in the dimming light, walking away across the square.

Seconds passed, and she heard footfalls ascending the stairs and, turning, saw the curator coming towards her. ‘Sorry, miss,’ he said apologetically, ‘but we’re just closing up. Would you mind . . .?’

‘No. No, of course not.’ With her words she picked up her bag and umbrella and set off towards the stairs.

As soon as her teaching duties were over the next day, Saturday, Lily returned to her lodgings to get ready for her journey to Seston, and after a bite to eat and a cup of tea set out for the station. After changing trains at Redbury she reached Seston shortly after three o’clock.

Outside the station she asked for directions to Greenbanks Lane, and after a few minutes’ walk along the main street came upon it. Laenar House was fifty yards along, a wide, red-brick dwelling of three storeys with evergreens at the front crowding a lawn that looked to be in need of a scythe. Lily’s ring at the front door bell was answered by a rather harassed-looking maid who showed her into the drawing room.

When the maid had gone away to fetch Mr Corelman, Lily looked around her at a room that was absolutely crammed with furniture, with the walls likewise festooned with pictures. There appeared to be an abundance of clothes, too; dresses and coats and other items were cast about, draped over the backs of chairs and dangling from hangers on mirrors.

After a few seconds she moved to a sofa and sat down, but as she did so realised that in the midst of all the muddle a woman was sitting there.

‘Oh, excuse me,’ Lily said at once. ‘I didn’t see you.’

The woman, looking to be about forty, sat with a quantity of already knitted wool and bags of yarn and needles about her. She wore what appeared to be several shawls and other
layers of clothing, and Lily could hardly wonder at not being at first aware of her presence.

‘I hope I’m not disturbing you,’ Lily said. ‘I’m here to see Mr Corelman.’

The woman leant forward a little, her knitting clasped in her two hands. ‘Oh, how d’you do?’ She had a nervous, tentative manner about her. ‘I’m
Mrs
Corelman.’

‘How do you. I’m Miss Clair.’

‘Miss Clair? Oh – that’s excellent. I’m sure my husband won’t keep you long. You’re here about the post of governess, aren’t you?’

‘Yes, I am.’

Mrs Corelman nodded. ‘We had a young lady here two days ago, also after the position. I didn’t meet her, mind you. I leave all that side of things to Mr Corelman. The present governess is Miss Harrison, but she’s only here for a little while longer.’ She gestured towards a tea tray on a small table nearby. ‘Would you like some tea? There’s no more cake, I’m afraid, but I can fetch another cup, and add some hot water.’

‘No, thank you, really. That’s very kind of you.’ Lily paused, then said: ‘In Mr Corelman’s advert he didn’t say how many children there are – just that they are between four and eleven.’

‘There are five.’

‘Five.’

‘They’re four, six, eight, nine and eleven. They’re lovely children, though they can at times be a little boisterous. That’s only to be expected.’

‘Five,’ Lily said again. Perhaps, she thought, it was no wonder Mr Corelman had neglected to mention in his advert the number of children. ‘And what are they, ma’am?’ she asked. ‘How many boys and girls?’

‘Four boys and one girl. Gertrude’s the youngest at four, and she’s my little treasure. They’re all out with Miss
Harrison at the moment, and the dogs. The weather’s continuing so nice, they’ve gone out for a picnic in the field and –’

Her voice broke off abruptly as the door opened and a man’s voice said into the room: ‘Miss Clair? I can see you now.’

Lily at once got up from her seat. As she did so, Mrs Corelman gave her a half-smile, and murmured, ‘Good day to you, dear.’

‘Good day to you, ma’am,’ Lily replied.

Mr Corelman was waiting in the doorway. As Lily went towards him he said, ‘You got here very early. It’s only just four o’clock now.’ Then, before Lily could reply he added, ‘Anyway, I’m Lincoln Corelman. Obviously you’re Miss Clair.’

‘Yes, sir. How do you do.’

There was no question of anyone shaking hands for at once he was turning and starting away along the hall. ‘We’ll go into the study,’ he said shortly.

He was a tall man, and Lily followed his broad back along the hall and into an untidy room. There he pulled out a chair behind a desk and sat down, at the same time gesturing to an upright chair against the wall. ‘Bring that over,’ he said, and Lily did as she was bidden. As she settled he leant forward and stretched out his right hand. ‘Your references,’ he said. ‘You did bring them?’

‘Oh, yes, sir. Yes, of course.’ From her bag Lily brought out the envelope containing her references, one from Miss Elsie, the other from Mr Acland, and handed them to him. She watched as he studied them. He seemed to be somewhere in his mid-forties, and had a wide, florid face, with salt-and-pepper hair and bushy sideburns. He wore a soft-collared shirt, and a dark maroon smoking jacket with one of its decorative buttons hanging by a thread. The hand in which he held Lily’s references was huge and red.

When he had finished reading the papers, he gave a nod and said, ‘Well, your experience doesn’t appear extensive, but it looks satisfactory. I see you offer basic French.’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘What about music? Do you play the piano or the harmonium?’

‘I’ve had some lessons on the harmonium, sir, but I’m afraid I can’t say I’m proficient.’

‘That’s a pity. Miss Harrison plays the harmonium. She’s not proficient either. I must tell you now that I’m also considering another applicant for the post.’

‘Yes, Mrs Corelman mentioned it.’

‘Oh, she did, did she?’ He handed the papers across the desk and Lily put them back in her bag. ‘I’ve got five children here,’ he went on. ‘You wouldn’t be expected to teach my youngest daughter, but you
would
be teaching my four boys. And I’m not sure that your teaching of two namby-pamby female twins is going to be of much use when it comes to my sons. Are you resident where you are right now?’

‘No, I’m daily visiting.’

‘You’d be resident here – and on call pretty much of the time – as our present governess is. Weekends too. Do you work on weekends in your present position?’

‘I have every other Sunday off, and every Saturday afternoon.’

He gave a short laugh. ‘My God, you’ve been spoilt. What hours do you work?’

‘Nine until four-thirty.’

‘Nine till four-thirty. Well, if I were you young lady, I’d hang on to my present post like grim death. You wouldn’t get such an easy ride here.’

‘I’m not looking for that, sir – an easy ride, as you call it.’

For a moment he looked slightly surprised at her response, then he said, ‘Why is it you’re leaving your present position?’

‘My pupils are going off to school.’

‘And how much longer do you have with them?’

‘Just till the end of next week.’

‘I see. So your time’s running out, isn’t it?’ He leant back in his chair, linking his hands over his paunch. ‘Our governess will be expected to help generally with the children, apart from just giving them their lessons. There is a nurse, but she can’t do everything.’ He paused. ‘Mrs Corelman keeps a good deal to herself. She doesn’t take a great part in the running of the household, so I’m the one you’d come to if there was any problem, or anything you needed to know.’

‘I understand.’

‘I hope you do. Our present governess is leaving to get married. Which comes as a great surprise, for she’s the plainest wench you can imagine. Anyway, she’s hooked somebody, so she must have something. I hope there’s nothing similar on the cards for you.’

‘No, sir.’

‘Well, that’s something in your favour. As regards the salary, I pay thirty-two pounds a year, with full board. I assume that would be acceptable.’

There was no tone of question about the words. Lily had been hoping for more, three or four pounds more, but she nodded and murmured, ‘Yes, sir.’

‘I would expect total commitment for that, of course.’

Another nod. ‘Yes, sir. Of course.’

‘And absolute loyalty. And punctuality – no sleeping-in in the mornings.’

Lily shook her head.

‘Is that a no?’ he said.

‘Yes, sir. I mean, yes, it was a no.’

‘Fine.’ He nodded. ‘Well – I can’t think of anything else for the moment, so I might as well show you the governess’s room.’ He got up from his chair and
strode around the desk. ‘Come this way.’

Lily picked up her bag, and followed him into the hall, where he led the way to the stairs. The stair-carpet was worn and stained, Lily noticed, and the banister rail could have used a duster. Going up past the first landing, they continued on up to the next floor. There he stopped at a door, turned the handle and pushed it open.

‘There.’

He stood to one side to allow Lily to see into the room. It was neat and tidy, but extremely small and cramped. A narrow little bed was squeezed up against the wall, with a small chest of drawers and a tiny closet crowding in. On a shelf stood a few books and a little china ornament. The whole room had the most pathetic air about it, and Lily, standing on the threshold, felt like the most insensitive intruder.

‘It’s not what you might call spacious,’ Mr Corelman said, ‘but it serves its purpose.’ He closed the door and stepped back. ‘Well, that’s about it. I don’t think I’ve got any more questions. Unless you have some . . .?’

Lily shook her head. ‘No. No, I haven’t.’

‘I assume then that everything’s acceptable to you?’

Yet again, depressingly, the thought flashed through her mind that she could not afford to be choosy. ‘Yes, sir,’ she said.

‘Very well. I did tell you, didn’t I, that I’ve interviewed another young woman for the post?’

‘Yes, sir, you did.’

‘Right. Also, I have another one yet to see. They’re pretty thick on the ground, governesses, I’ve discovered. Anyway, once I’ve made my decision I’ll let you know. Whoever I employ will be required to start in just over three weeks. Next month, Monday the eleventh.’ He turned and started towards the stairs. ‘Come along.’

When they reached the foot he gestured along the hall
towards the front door. ‘We don’t stand on ceremony here. Can you see yourself out?’

‘Yes, of course, sir.’

‘Fine.’ He gave a nod and walked away, opening the door to the study, and disappearing inside.

Left alone in the hall, Lily stood for a moment a little bemused, then, collecting her wits and her umbrella, she opened the front door and let herself out.

As she sat on the train taking her away from Seston she was filled with a sense of foreboding. She did not want the post in the Corelman house, though at the same time she was only too aware that there was nothing else on the horizon. In spite of her misgivings, if the offer should come from Mr Corelman, she knew she would have to take it.

Halfway through the week she received a brief letter from Tom. In it he told her that he wouldn’t after all be able to get into Corster for their planned meeting that coming Friday, but that he would be there for the one following. In his letter he sounded happy, and from a passing reference he made to his situation, Lily was relieved to perceive that he seemed increasingly content. As for her own employment situation, nothing more had come from her answers to the few advertisements she had responded to. Likewise, there had been nothing so far in response to her own advertisement in the
Gazette
– though, she told herself, in an effort at self-comfort, it was still early days. It may have been early days as regards the classified she had placed, but even so her days were running out. This was her last week in the Acland household, after which she would be unemployed.