Sons and Daughters (33 page)

But still, he languished in bed, insisting that those louts had irreparably damaged his spine and that he’d never walk again. He’d not be able to return to school or go on to university as he’d hoped and his dreams of a career as a lawyer lay in tatters.

‘Nonsense,’ Charlotte had told him briskly. ‘You could still be a lawyer from a wheelchair, if needs be.’

‘Get out! I don’t know why you keep visiting. Nobody wants you here, least of all me.’

Things might have continued thus if it hadn’t been for another visit from Aunt Euphemia and her husband. She swept into Buckthorn Farm kitchen dressed in furs and in a cloud of expensive perfume.

‘I want you to come on a little holiday with us, Charlotte dear,’ Euphemia announced in a tone that brooked no argument. ‘We’re going to Derbyshire for a week at the end of February. Bakewell. It’s a charming little place and so quiet at this time of year. You’ll love it, I’m sure. Your father can manage without you for a week or two.’

Charlotte chewed her bottom lip thoughtfully.

‘You go, miss,’ Mary encouraged. ‘You deserve it. You’ve never had the chance before. We’ll look after your father and the farm’ll be all right. Eddie can always go over and ask Joe if he’s worried about anything.’

‘D’you know, Mary,’ Charlotte said slowly, her eyes sparkling with sudden excitement. ‘I’ll go.’ She turned to her aunt. ‘Thank you, Aunt Euphemia, I’d love to come. But – not a word to Father, mind, until everything is settled.’

Euphemia wriggled her plump shoulders. ‘Oh, I do love a secret.’

Charlotte and Mary did not dare to catch each other’s glance. They didn’t think the loquacious Euphemia would be very good at keeping secrets.

Everything was ready; her suitcase packed with the meagre few pieces of clothing she possessed. Edward had the pony and trap waiting in the yard as Charlotte, in her best hat and coat, went into the sitting room to tell her father that she was going away for a week or so with his sister.

‘You’re what?’

For a moment, Charlotte felt a shaft of fear. Her father’s face drained of its colour and then flushed a fiery red. His hands shook and when he tried to rise out of his chair, he fell back, panting. His eyes glazed over and Charlotte thought he was suffering a seizure.

‘Father . . .’ She stepped towards him, her hand outstretched.

‘Get away,’ he spat. ‘You – you Jezebel! Leave me too, would you? Go, then, go and never come back. I never want to set eyes on you again.’

Seeing that he was not ill, Charlotte fled, but she was trembling and distressed when she returned to the kitchen. ‘He – he was so angry, Mary. He said, “Leave me too, would you?” I don’t know what he meant.’

She was so preoccupied that she didn’t notice Mary turn pale and cast frightened eyes towards Edward, standing near the open door with Charlotte’s suitcase in his hand.

But Charlotte, thinking aloud, answered her own question. ‘I expect he meant the Warrens going. Perhaps he feels everyone’s deserting him. But he dismissed them – he was going to turn them out. And who can blame them for taking the chance Mr Thornton offered? Anyone would have done the same, wouldn’t they, Mary?’

Mary swallowed her panic and said shakily, ‘Yes, of course, miss. That’s what he does. He makes people leave. He—’

‘Mary . . .’ There was a warning note in Edward’s voice, but Charlotte thought no more of it when he added, ‘Tis time Miss Charlotte was leaving, if she’s not to miss the train.’

Charlotte hugged her quickly and followed Edward out of the door. She was unaware of Mary, her hand to her throat and something akin to terror in her eyes, watching her go.

‘We shall have the most marvellous time and I have a lovely surprise for you when we get to Derbyshire,’ Euphemia burbled, clapping her hands like a small child at the thought of a special treat.

‘Now, now, Euphemia,’ Percy said, smiling benignly. ‘You promised.’

‘I know I did, but I can hardly keep it to myself. But I must – I must. I mustn’t spoil it. She’d be so cross with me if I did.’

‘She?’ Charlotte asked. ‘Who, Aunt? Who are we going to meet?’

Euphemia pressed her lips together to stop the words escaping. ‘My lips are sealed. In fact, I’ll get Percy to put sticking plaster across them if I don’t keep quiet.’

Charlotte laughed. She couldn’t imagine what the great secret was or what wonderful surprise was in store for her. But she was content to wait. There were so many other things to interest and delight her.

For a start, her aunt insisted on a trip to Lincoln, where she swept her into one of the main department stores in the city. There she bought dresses, coats, hats, shoes and even two handbags.

‘Now, you really should have your hair cut into an Eton crop. It’s the very latest fashion for the young. And you have such a well-shaped head, it would suit you to perfection.’

But here Charlotte stood firm. ‘Aunt, it’s very kind of you, but I really don’t want my hair cut short.’ Not to seem ungrateful, she added, ‘But what I would like is for a hairdresser to show me how to put my hair up into an elegant style.’

‘If that’s what you want, my dear, then that’s what we’ll do.’

The hairdresser was delighted. ‘It’s a while since I had the chance to put up long hair. And yours is lovely, Miss Crawford. You’ve kept it in wonderful condition. Now . . .’

For the next hour or so, Charlotte’s hair was washed, trimmed and styled into the most elegant chignon she had ever seen and the hairdresser was kind enough to give her tips as to how she could achieve it for herself.

‘My dear, you look wonderful,’ Euphemia enthused.

‘Whatever will Father say?’ Charlotte murmured as she regarded her new self in the mirror. But Euphemia brushed her fears aside and led her eagerly to the next department. ‘And now you must learn to use cosmetics. Discreetly, of course, my dear. Ah, now, here’s the lovely April, who’s going to show you what to do. April, this is my niece – the one I was telling you about.’

So, Charlotte thought, amused but not offended. This has all been planned.

When, at last, Charlotte emerged from the store, she didn’t recognize the reflection of herself in the plate-glass window. The fashionable, pretty young woman, who stared back at her, was a stranger.

‘My dear girl, you look adorable. Doesn’t she, Percy?’

Her uncle nodded and smiled benignly. ‘Adorable, my dear. Absolutely adorable. She’ll have young men queueing at the door of Buckthorn Farm now.’

Charlotte laughed and pulled a face. ‘I hope not. Father would have a seizure.’ Her expression sobered. She knew he was going to be very angry with her for what she’d already done. She had no wish to make her father ill, but at almost twenty-seven, it was high time she stood on her own two feet.

‘And tonight we’re staying in a hotel here in the city and going to the theatre,’ Euphemia went on. ‘Then tomorrow, we must go home and pack all these lovely new clothes for our trip to Derbyshire.’

‘You have been so generous, Aunt, but I can’t let you pay for all this. You must let me—’

Euphemia flapped her hands. ‘Nonsense, my dear. Besides, if I’m not mistaken, it’s your birthday next week, isn’t it? Just call it an early birthday present. It’s wonderful to have someone to spoil, isn’t it, Percy?’ Her face clouded as she added sorrowfully, ‘We’ve never had the chance before, have we?’

Percy shook his head. ‘Sadly, no, my dear. We were not blessed with children, you see. And my darling Euphemia would have loved a daughter to spoil.’

‘A daughter? You’d’ve liked a daughter?’ Charlotte couldn’t keep the surprise from her tone.

‘Most certainly,’ Percy said.

‘But – but wouldn’t
you
have wanted a son?’ she asked him.

He wrinkled his forehead as he considered the question. ‘Not particularly. You know the old saying, “A son is a son till he takes him a wife; a daughter is a daughter all of her life.” ’

‘I – I’ve never heard that.’

‘Har-humph,’ Percy said, stroking his moustache. ‘Haven’t you, my dear? But more to the point, neither has your father, I suspect. More’s the pity.’ He turned to his wife. ‘And now, let’s book into the hotel and then I’ll leave you two ladies to try on all these fripperies.’ But his eyes were twinkling as he said it. ‘I shall go for a walk up the hill to have a look at that magnificent cathedral.’

Charlotte had never been to the theatre, had never seen people acting out a story on stage. She’d read all her life; it had always been one of her greatest pleasures to lose herself in another world and escape from the loneliness of her own life shut away from all society at Buckthorn Farm except for Mary and Edward. But now, a whole new world was opening up to her. But with it came the bitter knowledge of just how deep her father’s cruelty had been.

The following morning they returned home to pack for their trip to Derbyshire, which began the following day.

They stayed at a hotel in the centre of Bakewell. Charlotte sat at the window of her room looking out on the streets below. At this time of the year, the town was quiet, but she imagined it would be a popular place for visitors during the summer months.

At dinner that evening, Euphemia seemed unsettled. But it was a kind of scarcely suppressed excitement. She toyed with her food and kept glancing at the long-case clock standing in the corner, solemnly ticking away the hours. After a while her glances were directed towards the door, as if she was expecting someone.

As they left the dining room, she linked her arm through Charlotte’s. ‘My dear, do you remember that when I proposed this visit to Derbyshire, I promised a surprise for you? A nice surprise, of course.’

‘I do, Aunt. But I thought that it was perhaps all the beautiful clothes you’ve bought for me. I can’t begin to thank you—’

‘No, no, child, that wasn’t it.’ Euphemia chafed her bottom lip nervously.

‘Then – what?’ Charlotte asked.

‘Let’s go into the lounge and then I’ll explain.’

There were one or two other guests there, but they found a quiet corner where they wouldn’t be overheard. Percy hovered in the hallway, pretending, Charlotte was sure, to find a painting hanging there fascinating.

‘Now, I must have your solemn promise that you will never, ever, tell your father.’

Charlotte stared at her. ‘What about? The – the clothes, you mean?’

‘No – no, not all that. That’s not it at all.’ Euphemia flapped her hands and glanced nervously at the door leading into the hall.

Charlotte followed her gaze and saw Percy greeting a woman who’d just come into the hotel by the main entrance. He was kissing her on both cheeks. A tall, dark-haired woman, dressed fashionably, with a lovely face and . . . As the woman turned and began to walk towards the lounge, Charlotte felt the room spin. She reached out and clutched at Euphemia for support.

No, no, it couldn’t be . . .

But the woman was coming towards her, her arms outstretched, tears in her fine violet eyes. ‘My darling girl . . .’

Charlotte stared at her, her head whirling and then everything went black.

She thought she was in her own bed, at home at Buckthorn Farm, yet there were people bending over her, someone was cradling her head and trying to get her to drink something. She groaned and heard a strange voice say, ‘She’s coming round. Oh, thank goodness! We shouldn’t have sprung such a surprise on her, Euphemia.’

‘She’ll be all right. She’ll be fine and so happy to see you. She must have so longed all these years to find you.’ Euphemia patted Charlotte’s hand. ‘Now, come along my dear.’

Charlotte opened her eyes and slowly pulled herself up. The stranger was still holding her, her arm about Charlotte’s shoulders. Slowly, Charlotte turned to look into the woman’s face and found it was like looking into an older version of her own. But this woman was beautiful; she was skilfully made up, wore lovely clothes, and had her hair professionally cut and styled.

‘But – but you’re dead!’ Charlotte blurted out. She was still not thinking rationally. ‘I must be dreaming.’ She closed her eyes momentarily and then opened them again, but the woman – her mother – was still there, in the flesh, smiling at her.

‘No, my love, I’m here. I’m really here.’ Her eyes clouded with concern. ‘Are you all right? I’m so sorry, we shouldn’t have done that. Euphemia should have told you gently before I arrived.’

‘You know me, Alice.’ Euphemia flapped her hands. ‘I would have blurted it out and it would have been just as much of a shock for the poor girl. I’m like a bull at a gate – Percy always says so.’ She peered at Charlotte. ‘The colour’s coming back to her cheeks. She’ll be all right in a moment.’ She turned and summoned a hovering waiter. ‘Another brandy, if you please?’

‘No – no, Aunt, I’ll be all right now.’

‘Oh, it’s not for you. It’s for me!’ Euphemia said comically and patted her chest dramatically.

Charlotte turned towards her mother. ‘I – can’t believe it. Is it really you? All these years, I thought you were dead.’

‘Dead!’ Euphemia and Alice spoke together and Percy, standing close by, frowned. Charlotte’s earlier words had not registered with any of them.