No Wings to Fly (50 page)

Miss Elsie nodded. ‘But you didn’t see him.’

‘No. I heard a small child’s voice.’ The sound of the voice was still with her. ‘I think that must have been him.’

A little pause, then Miss Elsie said, ‘Did his parents tell you anything about him?’

‘His – his name is Joshua. He’s four and a half, so they said.’

A little silence fell. Then Miss Elsie raised her eyes to Lily and said, ‘You know, don’t you?’

At once Lily felt her heart begin to pound. Playing for time, and control, she said: ‘I’m sorry – I don’t understand.’

Miss Elsie regarded her in silence for a second, then gave a little nod. ‘Yes, you do, Lily, you understand well enough.’

Lily said nothing.

‘The child, the boy,’ Miss Elsie said, and then: ‘Oh, Lily, you know about the Soamesons, don’t you.’

Still Lily said nothing, though she well knew that silence would not allow her an escape.

‘Perhaps I should have guessed earlier,’ Miss Elsie said. ‘How did you find out? How did you find out where he went? Such things are never revealed. You were never supposed to know.’

Lily hesitated, but could do nothing but confess. ‘I know, but I – I found a letter – in your study. In a ledger there. From the woman who came with the cleric that day when they took him away. I’m sorry – I should not have pried.’

Miss Elsie’s mouth was set as she gave a brief shrug. ‘Well, it’s done now,’ she said. ‘Though I could wish it had never happened.’

‘Oh, no, I’m so glad!’ Lily said at once. ‘I’d so wanted to know. I’d thought about him so much. And there it was – in the letter – saying where he’d gone. Oh, Miss Elsie – it was like – it was as if it was fate.’

Miss Elsie frowned. ‘Fate,’ she echoed with a faint note of derision. ‘Well, if you choose to believe such a thing.’ She eyed Lily steadily across the table. ‘Is this the reason you took the position?’

‘I told you,’ Lily said, ‘I need the work.’

‘Well, no one disputes that.’

‘I didn’t approach them – the Soamesons,’ Lily said, ‘although I knew about them. Mr Soameson answered my advert in the
Gazette.
You know that. When it came, his letter, I could scarcely believe it. It just – came out of the blue.’

Miss Elsie nodded. ‘Fate again,’ she said dryly. Then she shook her head and sighed. ‘Oh, Lily.’

‘It’s all right, Miss Elsie,’ Lily said. ‘Really, it’s all right.’

‘Is it?’ Miss Elsie sighed again. ‘I can’t help but think this is a step in the wrong direction.’

‘Why should it be?’

‘Are you going into this with your eyes open?’

‘Yes. Yes, I am.’

‘You’re going to be in the same house.’

‘Yes, I know, but – oh, but it’s only for a few weeks. Three months, that’s all, and then the whole family will be leaving, going up to Scotland.’

‘And you think that at the end of those three months you’ll be able to just walk away – with no heart-ache? You think it’ll be as easy as that? My dear girl, you’re going to be seeing the child every day.’

‘Yes, I know, but – oh, it’ll be all right. It will. Believe me, it will.’

‘I hope so,’ Miss Elsie said. There was no note of approval in her voice. ‘Though I wonder how they’d feel if they knew who you are. I doubt that takes much imagining.’

‘Oh, but they don’t know. They can’t know. They were never given any clue as to my name, were they?’

‘No, of course not. That’s never done.’

‘Then they never will know. You don’t think for one moment that I shall – shall tell them, do you? Oh, I’d never do that. I
am
realistic about this, Miss Elsie, I am. Truly.’

‘I hope so.’ Clearly, Miss Elsie was unconvinced. ‘I just hope you’re not building up a lot of unhappiness – for yourself and for others too.’ She hesitated for a second then added, ‘It’s not too late, you know.’

‘Too late?’

‘You haven’t started there yet. You could write tomorrow – or send a message first thing with Mr Shad. Tell Mr Soameson that something’s come up, that you can no longer take the position.’

‘Oh, no,’ Lily said. ‘I can’t do that. They’re depending on
me. They’re expecting me. I can’t let them down at this late stage.’

Miss Elsie gave a resigned nod. ‘I’ll say no more.’ Then her expression softened a little. ‘But – I’ll trust you to do the right thing. I can do that, can’t I?’

‘Oh, of course. Of course. Everything will be all right,’ Lily said. ‘Believe me it will.’

On Thursday morning, Lily bought a copy of the
Morning Post,
and sat reading it on the train bound for Pilching. Much of the news was given to the rising death toll from the smallpox epidemic. It was rapidly gaining strength, and the paper reported that more hospitals were needed to deal with the sufferers. In London a handful of hospital ships had been moored in the Thames to help cope with the growing number of cases, but these had already been filled to overflowing. Further, the disease had long since spread from the big cities and was now finding victims in rural towns and villages.

After a while she folded up the paper and stuffed it in her bag – there was insufficient room to read it in the crowded compartment, added to which the ink of the newsprint stained her white gloves, and she had only one spare pair in her luggage.

The train reached Pilching on time, and as a station porter deposited her luggage on the platform, she turned and saw Mr Beeching coming towards them, his hand rising to his cap.

‘Mornin’, miss,’ he said brightly, smiling and showing his small, uneven teeth. ‘I see you brought some sunshine with you. That’s a good start.’ He hoisted her box onto his right shoulder and took up her bag in his left hand. ‘This way, miss. We’ve got the buggy outside.’

Lily followed him out of the station to where the horse
and trap were waiting, and soon they were driving away, eventually leaving the village behind and following the road into the countryside.

‘So, miss,’ Mr Beeching said as the trap rolled along, ‘you’re about to start your first day as governess.’

‘I am indeed, sir,’ Lily replied.

‘Though I hear tell as you’re not going to be with us that long. Just till we go back up north, is that so?’

‘Yes, that’s right. Just for three months.’

‘Aye.’ He nodded. ‘Three months and we’ll be off. Won’t be long now.’

‘Are you looking forward to it, Mr Beeching – going back up to Scotland?’

He smiled. ‘Oh, aye, I am that, although I was very happy to come down here with Mr Soameson.’

‘I understand,’ Lily said, ‘that Mr Soameson has a paper mill, in Senning. Is that so?’

‘Aye, that’s it. It used to belong to Mrs Soameson’s father, and came to her on his death. They came down south to look after it, the mill. Five years back, that was. But I don’t doubt Mr Soameson’s had enough of it. He tells me he’s ready to get back to the family business – making the biscuits and the sweeties.’

‘Is that what he does?’

‘Aye, the Soamesons have a big company in Edinburgh. Mr Soameson senior’s the one looking after things, but he’s nay so young any more.’

They were coming into Happerfell now, and soon turned into Bourne Way. Arriving at The Gables, Mr Beeching brought the mare to a halt in the back yard. ‘You go on in, miss,’ he said to Lily, ‘and I’ll bring your things up to your room.’

Lily thanked him, and made her way to the rear door where the young maid – whose name she would learn was Lizzie – answered her ring, and said she would go and tell
the mistress that Lily had arrived, adding that she was instructed to say that the mistress would see her in the schoolroom in half an hour.

Up on the second floor, Lily made her way to her room, conscious as she did so that just across the landing was the nursery. Was he there? She listened, holding still in the quiet. There was no sound. After a moment she opened the door and went into her room, where she saw at once that a handful of white roses had been set in a vase on the chest, and that a little folded card had been placed on the counterpane. She picked up the card and opened it. It had been decorated with crayon drawings of flowers and two little lovebirds. In a careful, childish hand had been written:

WELCOME, MISS CLAIR. I HOPE YOU WILL BE HAPPY AT THE GABLES. BEST WISHES, LAVINIA

Lily was touched by the gesture and the message, and a sudden little lifting came to her heart.

Through the open door she heard the sound of footsteps mounting the stairs, and a few moments later Mr Beeching appeared carrying her box and her bag. He smiled at her as he came into the room and put her luggage down. ‘There you are, miss.’ Lily thanked him, and he went away again, the sound of his hard boots fading as he descended the stairs.

Over the next twenty minutes Lily unpacked her things and put them away in the closet and the drawers. Her books and the other items she had brought to aid in her teaching she took across the landing to the schoolroom. There she tapped on the door and, getting no answer, pushed it open. The room was empty. Inside, she set her things down on the table beside the small blackboard and looked around her. She had a better opportunity now to see
what was to be her little domain for the next few weeks. There was a globe of the earth there, and on the white painted wall a map of the Britain Isles, and another of the European Continent. On the shelves behind the table were dictionaries, an atlas, and books on grammar, history, biology, geography and science. In the drawers of the chest she found paper and pencils, slates and chalks. There were painting and drawing materials too. Everything, it seemed, had been thought of.

Among the items she had brought were some papers on which she had made notes of lesson plans, and sitting at the table she began to go through them, trying to settle in her mind precisely what she should do and where she should begin. She was still sitting there a few minutes later when there came a sound from out on the landing and the door was opened. Mrs Soameson stepped into the room.

‘Ah, you’re here, Miss Clair. Good morning to you.’

‘Good morning, ma’am.’

Lily had at once risen from her chair, but Mrs Soameson said, ‘Oh, do sit down,’ and gestured for her to be seated again.

As Lily sat back down Mrs Soameson cast her eyes over the books and papers laid on the table. ‘Getting things ready, I see. Excellent. Lavinia will be here in a minute or two. She went down into the village with Joshua and his nurse. Have all your things been brought up?’

‘Yes, ma’am. Mr Beeching put them in my room.’

‘Good. Now, before the children get here, a few things you’ll need to know. First – meals . . .’ Mrs Soameson then set out to impart to Lily the daily routine that she would be required to follow. When she had finished she moved to the door and looked out onto the landing, listening. As she turned back into the room, she said, ‘The children and Nurse will be here any second. Joshua’s been a little fractious recently, but he’s all right now. He had his
smallpox vaccination and it laid him rather low, poor boy. Mr Soameson and I – we weren’t absolutely sure whether to go ahead and have him done – one hears so many strange reports – but it
is
the law, after all, and we thought it the wisest course in the end. We must hope the doctors know best, particularly with the situation as it is now in the country. It’s dreadful. You read in the papers that hundreds of new cases are being reported every week. Even in Corster the situation is so bad. I hear the isolation hospital’s full up and people are having to stay in their own homes. What’s it all coming to?’

Now through the open door came from along the landing the sound of children’s voices. ‘Ah, here they are,’ Mrs Soameson said. She turned and stepped to the door, leant out and said: ‘Hello, Nurse. Come and meet Miss Clair.’ She hovered there for a moment, then stood aside and a second later Lavinia came into the room, followed by a young woman and a little boy. As they came in, Lily got to her feet.

‘Good morning, Lavinia,’ Lily said. ‘Thank you so much for your beautiful card.’

‘Good morning, Miss Clair.’ The child smiled shyly back. She had taken off her coat and was now in her pinafore and plain brown dress. She had pink ribbons in her hair. The little boy who stood beside her wore a dark grey coat and a straw hat. He looked at Lily with curiosity in his blue eyes.

‘And this is Miss Cattock,’ Mrs Soameson said, and Lily’s attention was taken to the young nurse. She looked about Lily’s own age. Somewhat plain-looking and rather plump, she had her pale hair parted in the centre and pulled back and fastened at the nape of her neck. ‘I’m sure you two will get along splendidly,’ Mrs Soameson said, then turned her attention to the children. ‘Did you have a nice walk, Lavinia?’

‘Yes, Mama,’ Lavinia said. ‘We got the cream from the farm.’

‘Well done.’ Mrs Soameson turned then to the boy. ‘And you, Joshie? Did you enjoy your walk?’

He nodded. ‘We picked some blackberries.’

‘Blackberries – there’s a good boy.’

‘I scratched myself, look.’ He held up his hand, pulling back the sleeve of his shirt to reveal his wrist. ‘Look.’

Miss Cattock said quickly, as if perhaps a little anxious that she might be found lacking in her responsibilities, ‘Oh, it’s nothing, ma’am, really,’ at which Mrs Soameson said easily, ‘No, I’m sure it’s not,’ while looking at the child’s wrist and shaking her head in sympathy.

Lily watched and listened, spellbound, fixed to the spot on the worn carpet. This child was her son, and seeing him as he walked into the room she had known him at once. Everything about his appearance had fallen perfectly into place. Everything had been so – right, so exactly right. So many times she had wondered, agonising, whether she would know him, but with her first glance as he had come around the door frame she had recognised him. For that first moment, that split second, she had caught at her breath, and held it while her heart had pumped against her ribs. She would have known him anywhere. Over four years had gone by since she had set eyes on him, yet after just an instant it was almost as if he had been out of her sight for no more than a minute.

‘Shall we take your hat off, Joshie?’ asked Miss Cattock, and the boy stepped to her while pulling at the elastic string that secured it. The hat came off revealing a mop of untidy fair hair falling in curling waves to his collar. The nurse began to unbutton his coat while he shifted from one foot to the other, anxious to be on the move.