The Beekeeper's Daughter (35 page)

‘Beatrix,’ she replied, sensing her proper name would be more appropriate in the formal surroundings of Lady’s Georgina’s house.

‘I’m Georgina Stapleton and this is my husband Teddy. Do sit down. Darling, we’d like tea.’

‘I’ll pass it on,’ he replied, wandering out into the hall.

Lady Georgina smiled at Trixie. ‘Oh, you’re most welcome here,’ she gushed, and Trixie was surprised to find her face had suddenly defrosted. ‘Tell me, how are your parents?’

‘They’re very well, thank you,’ she replied, not wanting to share her mother’s illness with a stranger.

‘I’m so pleased. What did your father do when he moved to America?’

‘He worked on a cranberry farm. Of course, he’s retired now. He mainly plays golf.’

‘And your mother? She was a terrific beekeeper and a keen gardener, too. She followed Mr Heath around like a loyal Labrador.’

‘She’s still a gardener. Well, she’s sort of retired now, although she can’t stop herself because she loves it. But most of the gardens on Tekanasset have been designed by her.’

‘How lovely. I’m so pleased it worked out for them. Tell me, do you have brothers and sisters?’

‘No, I’m an only child.’

‘You’re married?’

‘No.’

Lady Georgina raised her eyebrows in surprise. ‘Not married? And you’re so pretty.’

‘I’ve yet to find Mr Right.’

‘Ah, well, don’t waste too much time looking or you’ll be too old to have children.’

‘I don’t think it’s my destiny to have children, Lady Georgina.’

‘Nonsense, all women are destined to have children. I had three and I’m now a grandmother of seven. A woman without children is hardly relevant.’

Trixie bristled. ‘I disagree. I don’t think having children is the only avenue to fulfilment. I have a successful career . . .’

‘A career is all very well, my dear, but trust me, there will come a time when you will regret not having bred. After all, it’s what we’re here for, isn’t it?’

Before Trixie had time to reply, a young woman appeared with a tray of tea, followed by Teddy carrying the teapot. ‘So, Beatrix, is this the first time you’ve been to Walbridge?’ he asked.

‘Yes, it is.’

‘Surely your parents have been back?’

‘No, they haven’t.’

‘How surprising,’ Teddy mused.

‘America’s a long way away,’ Lady Georgina interjected. ‘And besides, plane tickets don’t come cheap.’

‘Your father is legendary here at Walbridge,’ said Teddy cheerfully. ‘I married Georgie fifteen years ago. But before me she was married to a man called Rufus. It’s thanks to your father that Rufus survived the war.’

‘What did my father do?’ Trixie asked.

Lady Georgina gasped. ‘My dear, you don’t know?’

‘Know what?’

‘He saved my husband’s life.’ Trixie stared at Lady Georgina in disbelief. ‘He was a hero. If it hadn’t been for him Rufus would have been shot dead.’

Teddy interrupted. ‘He took a bullet for him in North Africa.’

‘He took a bullet for Rufus?’

‘Absolutely,’ said Lady Georgina. ‘Rufus’s tank was hit. They took shelter in a settlement somewhere near El Alamein. The Germans counter-attacked. Your father arrived with his battalion to reinforce the position. He saw a German sniper aiming at Rufus and dived at him.’ She had clearly told the story many times before.

‘He literally threw himself onto Rufus,’ added Teddy, gesticulating vigorously. ‘Bang! The sniper fired and got Freddie in the side of his face.’

‘Poor Freddie lost his eye, but he saved my husband’s life,’ said Lady Georgina softly. ‘We are enormously grateful.’

‘Dad’s never mentioned it,’ said Trixie, trying to make sense of it. ‘Why would he keep something like that secret?’

‘Well, now you know, you’ll have to ask him. Perhaps he’s just very modest and doesn’t want any fuss. Will you tell him that we still remember him with gratitude even though Lord Penselwood is no longer with us?’

‘I’m sorry for your loss,’ said Trixie.
I’m sorry for my mother’s loss,
she thought quietly.

‘Thank you, my dear. His heart simply gave out. He wasn’t old.’ She frowned. ‘It was as if it just decided it had had enough.’ Her eyes wandered to the window and she sighed wistfully. ‘He died on a bench in the garden. He liked to sit out in the middle of the night, under the stars, listening to the rustling of animals. When he came back from the war he used to sit there all the time. I think, after the ugliness of it all, he wanted to be surrounded by beauty. He adored the garden.’

Trixie followed her gaze. She knew now why Rufus had ended the affair: not because he had stopped loving Grace, but because he had had to, out of loyalty and respect for the man who had saved his life. And from Lady Georgina’s baffled expression Trixie was able to deduce
why
Rufus had died. She knew she was right. He had died of a broken heart.

Chapter 24

Trixie left, not the way she had come, but by Lady Georgina’s own front drive, which led back into the lane. As she walked she reflected on the extraordinary revelation of her father’s bravery. She couldn’t imagine why he had never told her. She couldn’t imagine why her
mother
had never told her. Surely his courage was something to be celebrated, not hidden away like a crime? She consoled herself that he couldn’t possibly have known about the affair, because then he would not have leapt so swiftly to Rufus’s aid. She smiled sadly at the irony. Her father had saved Lord Melville’s life; instinctively perhaps, given that he was in the employ of the Penselwood family, and in so doing saved the life of his wife’s lover. Because of his heroism Earl Melville was left with no option but to end the affair; how bitter must his gratitude have been. Considered from another angle, Earl Melville stole not only her father’s wife, but his eye as well. Trixie felt a growing resentment for the man her mother had loved and a deep sympathy for her father. She hoped with all her heart that he had never known about her mother’s infidelity.

She arrived at the Fox and Goose a little before half past twelve, feeling depleted. So engrossed was she in her parents’ past that she had forgotten all about Jasper. When she entered, Robert was behind the bar, serving customers. He waved and pointed to a fair-haired woman sitting at a corner table by the window. ‘Mother’s waiting for you. I’ll send Maeve over to take your orders for lunch,’ he told her. Trixie ignored the stares from curious locals and made her way across the room.

‘Hello,’ she said, pulling out a spindle-back chair and sitting down. ‘You must be Robert’s mother.’

The woman smiled sweetly, revealing a set of small, crooked teeth. She had the same bright-blue eyes as her son. ‘And you must be Trixie Valentine.’

‘It’s very nice to meet you, Mrs Heath.’

‘Call me Joan.’ She patted Trixie’s hand. ‘So, you’re Grace Hamblin’s daughter. You are the image of her. She was a beautiful girl.’

‘I’m so pleased to meet someone who knew her,’ said Trixie, cheering up in the warmth of Joan’s enthusiasm. Maeve came and took the orders, returning a moment later with drinks.

Joan was keen to share her stories with someone who was eager to hear them. ‘I was about ten when she married your father. But I remember the wedding at the church because Freddie and Grace were very popular and everyone turned out to watch. It was just before the war. Like a perfect summer’s day before the storm.’

‘Mom told me she bought the dress off the peg at a department store.’

‘In Dorchester, most likely,’ she said, crinkling up her nose. ‘Not a glamorous town.’

‘The dress was pretty, though.’

‘Oh, it was, Trixie, very pretty,’ Joan repeated with emphasis. ‘Then war came and Freddie went off to fight with all the other young men, my older brothers included, although Charlie was only just seventeen and as fresh-faced as a schoolboy. My mother cried for a week then threw all her energy into the war effort, working on the farm with your mother, although Grace was soon taken under my grandfather’s wing in the gardens. He was the head gardener at the Hall, you see, and he chose Grace to work with him. He had a soft spot for her. I think everyone did.’ She laughed wistfully. ‘They had the most marvellous vegetable gardens and orchards at the Hall. You should have seen the quantity of produce they got out of the land. My grandfather used to say Grace had a magic touch but I think it was simply love. If you love living things they grow, don’t they? Lady Penselwood was a shrewd woman. She bought cows and sheep and pigs before the war. I tell you, the only rationing that affected us here in Walbridge was petrol. We ate like kings. Eggs, milk, cheese, and honey in the place of sugar. We had lots of honey, thanks to your mother. Those bees were very industrious.’

Joan’s eyes were shiny and alert and the apples of her cheeks flushed pink with pleasure as she travelled back into the past. The war years had clearly been exciting for her. ‘Oh, they were, Trixie, very exciting,’ she said. ‘I was lucky, my brothers came home in one piece. Others weren’t so fortunate. Like your father, God bless him.’

Maeve brought over their food and set the steaming dishes on the table, but Trixie was almost too engrossed in their conversation to eat.

‘I bumped into Lady Georgina this morning who told me that Dad had been a hero,’ she said.

‘A hero?’ Joan raised her eyebrows.

‘Yes, apparently he saved Lord Melville’s life.’

‘Did he indeed?’

‘Don’t you think it odd that he never told me?’

Joan patted Trixie’s hand again. ‘The men who returned from the war never spoke of it to anyone. They wanted to forget it and rebuild their lives. I suspect your father was a modest man and considered his act of bravery simply the actions of a good soldier. He might have been a little embarrassed by the fuss, don’t you think?’

‘He lost his eye because of it.’

‘But Lord Penselwood – I mean Rufus, he was Rufus Melville then – lived because of your father’s sacrifice. What an incredible thing to give someone, the gift of life.’

‘What was he like?’

‘Rufus? He was like a handsome prince in a fairy tale. Tall with dark-brown eyes, deeply set, and lots of thick brown hair. Long face with a mouth that seemed to find everything amusing.’ She gesticulated energetically with her hands. ‘He had good bones, Rufus did, high cheekbones and a strong, straight nose. He was dashing. As a little girl I’d glimpse him from time to time and be so overtaken by shyness as to lose my tongue altogether. Then when I was working in Red Valentine for your aunt Josie, he came in with Lady Georgina. Now
she
was so beautiful she took your breath away. Not soft, like your mother, but icy like the Snow Queen.’ She laughed, pleased with her comparison. ‘They made a gorgeous couple, the two of them, although I’d say the war rubbed the gloss off him. He had always had a cheerful nature and a certain sheen, but after the war he didn’t smile any more, not with his eyes, anyhow. You can always tell a person is truly happy if he smiles with his eyes. Rufus didn’t.’

‘That’s so sad.’

‘I’m afraid there were many like him. They’d seen too much, I suspect. Lady P. used to complain that he’d grown grumpy and short-tempered. She complained with affection, though. She adored her son. He used to lunch with her twice a week, just the two of them. He smiled when he was with her, mind you. In those days she lived in the White House on the estate, but when Jasper married she moved to the other side of town. She and Lady Georgina are not friends.’

‘Is that because they’re both very strong characters?’

If Joan knew, she wasn’t going to elaborate. She smiled her sweet smile and patted Trixie’s hand. ‘You should go and pay her a visit. She’d love to see you. She was very fond of Grace. The war did a lot to break the barriers down between people. My grandfather said that Lady P. rolled up her sleeves and got her hands dirty with the rest of them. Lady Georgina remained in her ivory tower, of course. The war did nothing to change
her
. But Lady P. has no airs and graces.’

‘What do you do for her?’

‘Everything. I’m her Girl Friday.’ She laughed. ‘Although I’m not a girl any more. I’m nearly sixty!’

‘You’re a girl to her.’

‘I suppose I am. She’s well into her nineties now but there’s no slowing her down.’ She shook her head. ‘God broke the mould after He made her. There’s no one else like her. I’ll be sorry when she goes.’

‘Whatever happened to my aunt, Josephine?’

‘Ah, the glamorous Josephine!’ Joan sighed with pleasure. ‘She was a lovely-looking girl, but much too ambitious for a small town like Walbridge. She sold her shop and moved to London where she married some rich businessman, I think. I heard she was treading the boards in the West End but I never got up to London to see her. I don’t think her career amounted to much. I don’t think she was ever the famous star she hoped she’d be. When her father died her mother moved up there to be close to her. I didn’t hear about her after that. Her mother was a good woman. May Valentine. She used to bake cakes and sell them at the summer fair. I remember her because she had such warmth in her eyes.’

At that moment the door opened and Trixie looked up. There, standing in the wind that swept in off the lane, was Jasper.

Trixie’s heart stalled at the sight of the man she had once loved. She stared at him in disbelief. He was older, weathered, with receding hair and a touch of grey about the temples, but handsome still, and her heart was jolted back to life.

Jasper’s eyes stopped when they settled on her and his face expanded into a wide, surprised smile. He hurried across the pub until he reached their table. ‘Excuse me, Joan,’ he said politely. Then to Trixie: ‘So it’s true. You really
are
here!’

Trixie wondered whether Joan noticed, as she did, the ill-disguised longing in his eyes. ‘How did you know?’

‘Mother told me.’

Trixie felt Joan deserved an explanation. ‘I met Jasper in America seventeen years ago,’ she said, her cheeks reddening beneath Jasper’s gaze.

‘And you haven’t changed at all,’ he said. ‘Not at all.’

Joan put her hands on the table to push herself up. ‘I’ll leave you two old friends together,’ she said.