Too Close to the Sun (21 page)

‘Please, miss,’ Jane said, unsmiling, ‘but the missis has asked if you could go downstairs in a little while.’

‘Go downstairs? They have a guest there for dinner, haven’t they?’

‘Yes, miss. They’re just about to have the pudding. Mrs Spencer asks if you could go down to the drawing room in about twenty minutes or so to join them for coffee.’ A pause. ‘Shall I tell her yes?’

‘Oh, but, Jane – I’m not properly dressed. And my hair …’

‘It’s not for twenty minutes, miss. You got a little while.’

‘Well –’ Grace gave a sigh, ‘it’ll take me all of that.’ She turned and glanced at the clock, registering the time. ‘All right, Jane, will you tell Mrs Spencer that I’ll be there.’

‘I will, miss.’ The maid turned and stepped away.

After closing the door behind the departing footsteps of the maid Grace stood still for a moment. She couldn’t imagine why her presence was required with the visitor there. She looked at herself in the oval mirror and frowned: her hair was coming loose and there was no way she could go downstairs wearing the old worn dress that she had on. Still, it was no time to stand around.

Twenty-two minutes later, with her hair brushed and put in place again, and having changed into a dress that looked a little less casual and altogether more suitable, she left her
room and went along the landing to the main stairs and started down.

At the foot of the stairs she crossed the wide hall towards the drawing room. As she did so she heard from beyond the door leading to the dining room a faint murmur of a male voice. She continued on, tapped on the drawing room door, opened it and stepped inside.

The evening had turned much cooler and a welcoming fire burned in the wide grate. Mrs Spencer was sitting on the sofa before a low table with a laden silver coffee tray on it, in her hands a cup and saucer. She was wearing a dress that Grace had not seen before. In pale lavender brocaded silk, trimmed with fine lace, its simple lines complemented the general air of elegance that always seemed be a part of her appearance.

‘Jane said you wanted to see me, Mrs Spencer.’

Mrs Spencer smiled at her. ‘Ah, Grace, yes. Thank you for coming down at such short notice.’ She held out a hand, palm up, and gestured for Grace to sit beside her.

Grace sat down on the sofa, wondering what was the purpose of the impromptu summons.

‘The reason I asked you to come down,’ Mrs Spencer said, ‘is because I think you are in a position to do a great service – if you would be kind enough to do it. And at the same time find something a little more interesting to do with your time.’

Grace waited.

‘I thought this would be a good opportunity,’ Mrs Spencer went on. ‘We were at dinner, talking, and it suddenly came to me.
Grace
, I said to myself – she’s the answer to this. So I thought, while the men enjoy their brandy and smokes I’ll have a quiet word with you, and see how you feel – then they can join us for coffee.’ She paused, adjusted the shawl about her shoulders, then went on: ‘Our guest, Mr Fairman,’ here she gestured vaguely in the
direction of the dining room, ‘is an old friend of Mr Spencer’s – I hadn’t met him myself before tonight, actually. He used to live in London – but has now come to this part of the world. He’s taken rooms in Corster while he looks for a suitable house. He has a small daughter, did I tell you? They’ve been here just a couple of months or so.’

Realizing that she had been sent for in order to join the Spencers and their guest over coffee, Grace became more conscious of her appearance. Had she taken enough trouble with her hair? And her dress … should she have worn the mauve poplin? It was all too late now; she must just sit and go through with it.

Mrs Spencer was continuing: ‘It’s his little girl I wanted to have a word with you about. Mr Fairman is a widower. His wife died a few years ago, leaving him with his daughter to bring up alone. She – Sophie – is now seven years old. And, so he tells us, is in need of a teacher. She’s had one in London for two years, but now of course he wants to find one for her here. He says ideally he’s looking for a
temporary
governess for her – just for two or three months, until he gets settled in his new home and is able to make more permanent arrangements.’

‘And you think I would be suitable …’

‘Oh, indeed yes. Absolutely. As I say, it wouldn’t be permanent. Once he’s found a suitable house I don’t doubt he’ll want a full-time, permanent governess for his daughter or will send her to school. But at least, if you’re there in the meantime he won’t have to hurry into anything, you understand?’

‘Yes.’

Mrs Spencer sat in silence for a few moments, her eyes trying to read Grace’s expression. ‘So,’ she said at last, smiling at her, ‘what do you think about it?’ And adding before Grace had a chance to reply: ‘And I do think it would be good for you also.’

‘Good for me?’

‘My dear, you were never brought up to be a companion, were you? And I have to tell you that there have been so many occasions when I’ve wondered what you are doing with your time. Oh, I know we draw together and paint together, and there are times when you help me with my hair, and we go shopping together, and visit the museums and galleries. But I often have the feeling it’s not enough for you. You were trained by your mother as a teacher, and I’m sure you have a lot to offer a child. Don’t you get bored sometimes here, with so little to do, and so little call on your intellect? I’m sure you do.’

Grace was not sure how to answer this question. There were indeed times when she was less occupied than she would have wished. Though perhaps it would not be politic to admit it at present. She kept silent.

Mrs Spencer went on: ‘I have felt for a good while now that you need more to occupy your time, Grace – and this seems to me an ideal opportunity. It will give you a little more variety in your life – heaven knows there isn’t much in it right now. And we shall still have time for our painting and our little excursions.’ She gave an ironic smile. ‘And if the weather today is a portent of what’s to come it’ll be a long time before we’re able to get outside – and you’ll have more time on your hands than ever. So …’ She came to a halt, waiting. ‘Well, Grace? What do you think about it?’

Grace had already decided that she would accept. For one thing she did not see how she could possibly refuse. Mrs Spencer had already acknowledged the fact that Grace’s time was not fully utilized, and in doing so was not telling Grace anything that she did not already know. Besides, Grace could not forget the great kindness that Mrs Spencer had shown in taking her and Billy in in the first place.

‘I – I think it would be very interesting – and very
enjoyable,’ Grace said. Not only did she want to please Mrs Spencer, but she truly did feel that it would be something she could enjoy. ‘I think I’d like to do it very much,’ she added.

‘Good. That’s splendid. I thought that would be your reaction. And you’ll also have the satisfaction of knowing that you’ll be helping out Mr Spencer’s friend. It’s all in a good cause.’ As Mrs Spencer finished speaking she got up and moved to the bell pull beside the fireplace. Soon after she had sat down again there came a tap at the door and the maid entered.

‘Oh, Jane,’ Mrs Spencer said, ‘would you bring the coffee, please, and also be so kind as to tell Mr Spencer and Mr Fairman that you’re about to serve it?’

‘Yes, ma’am.’

As the door closed behind the girl, Grace said, ‘But what about Mr Fairman? Are you sure this is all right with him? He hasn’t seen me yet. I might not be quite what he has in mind.’

‘Oh, believe me, you will be,’ Mrs Spencer said. ‘And you’re being presented to him on our recommendation –’ she smiled here, ‘so he wouldn’t dare cast aspersions in that respect, would he? And as for your liking him as an employer, I’m sure you will. Anyway, you’ll be meeting each other in a minute, so then there’ll be no further need to wonder.’

Soon afterwards the maid was back, bringing in the coffee and setting it down on the low table before Mrs Spencer. A minute after the maid had left the door opened again and Mr Spencer and their guest came into the room.

To her great astonishment, Grace recognized him at once.

And as the necessary introductions were made, so it was that Grace found her hand being taken by the man who only two days earlier had intervened to save her purse.

The visitor was in his early to mid-thirties, Grace
guessed. His hair was very dark, and against the fashion of the time for moustaches and sidewhiskers he was clean-shaven. Like Mr Spencer he was in formal day wear, sporting a winged collar and double-breasted frock coat. As he took Grace’s hand he bowed slightly over it, and she felt a little frisson at the strangeness of encountering him again so soon and in such surprising circumstances.

Invited to sit beside Mrs Spencer, Grace sat down on the sofa. Pressed by her employer she said yes, she would like a little coffee. As she sat there while the coffee was poured she felt very much at a disadvantage. The man, Mr Fairman, had given no sign of recognition either by word or action, and for a moment she found herself wondering whether he remembered her from their encounter. And then, turning slightly, glancing in his direction, she found his dark eyes upon her and knew without doubt that he did. There was that same look – what was it? – sardonic and slightly mocking perhaps? If it was, then bearing in mind her humiliating memory of the scene in the market square, she could hardly wonder at it. She shifted her glance at once and turned to Mrs Spencer who was pouring out the coffee.

Directing her words to the visitor, Mrs Spencer said, setting down the coffee pot, ‘I’ve spoken to Miss Harper about your little girl, Mr Fairman. She seems to find the idea quite agreeable. Isn’t that so, Grace?’

Grace was having second thoughts now, but did not think she could very well express them at this moment. However, she was saved from finding an answer as Mr Fairman spoke up.

‘I wonder if perhaps we’re not moving a little too fast for Miss Harper,’ he said. His voice was deep, somewhat flat in tone – as if its owner was careful to give nothing away. ‘Perhaps she would like to think about it for a while before she commits herself.’

Mr Spencer spoke then, saying with a smile, ‘Well, what do you think, Miss Harper? As you can see, he looks fairly normal. And I can recommend him, I promise you. My only criticism is that he’s kept out of our way for the past few years.’

‘In that case,’ Mrs Spencer said to him, briefly pausing to hand Grace her coffee, ‘let’s hope you find a suitable house soon, so you’ll want to stay. I’m sure London must be a wonderful place, but I can’t help but think that a country town might be a better spot in which to bring up a child.’

‘Oh, I have no doubt you’re right,’ Mr Fairman said.

‘The things one reads in the papers,’ Mr Spencer said, ‘ – the amount of crime that goes on in the cities. London in particular, I’m sure. It isn’t a spot where I’d care to raise a child.’

‘Well, the newspapers do tend to exaggerate the scale of the problem,’ Mr Fairman said. ‘And criminal misdeeds aren’t confined to the metropolis. You have your rogues here – not nearly so many, of course – your share of thieves and pickpockets.’

Without looking at him, Grace could feel the man’s eyes upon her now; and she was glad of the coffee cup and saucer, otherwise she would not have known what to do with her hands.

‘Anyway,’ Mr Spencer went on, ‘now that you’re here, old chap, maybe you’ll stay and put down some roots. And as for young Sophie, I’m sure Miss Harper will be only too glad to do what she can for her.’

‘I do hope so,’ said Mrs Spencer, turning to Grace, and added, ‘I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting Mr Fairman’s daughter – though my husband has – but I’ve no doubt she’s a very sweet child.’

Mr Spencer said, ‘Oh, by the way, Miss Harper, it was my idea to speak to you about this, so if it doesn’t suit, then I’m the one you have to blame.’

A brief silence fell, and Grace was aware of the three pairs of eyes upon her. She did not know what to say. To form a working relationship with the visitor was not something she relished – but how could she refuse? She was employed by the Spencers, and clearly they wanted her to provide her services to the man.

‘Well,’ she said, ‘if I can help at all, then I’ll be only too happy to,’ she heard herself say. Then she added, ‘Though I should mention that I’ve never worked with girls. I’ve only ever been governess to boys.’

‘Oh, I’m sure that won’t matter,’ Mrs Spencer said. ‘I’ve no doubt that Mr Fairman’s daughter is a well behaved child.’

As the coffee was drunk and the conversation continued, it was suggested by Mrs Spencer that Grace go the next day to Mr Fairman’s rooms in Corster, and there meet his small daughter and make arrangements for her tuition.

And so it was left. Twenty minutes later, with Grace still feeling somewhat manipulated and less than happy about it – but at the same time doing her best to hide her feelings – she got up to take her leave of the small assembly. As she said goodnight to Mr Fairman he briefly caught her eye, and quickly she lowered her gaze. Another minute and she was out in the hall and heading for the stairs and her room.

As was their wont, the following morning Grace and Billy went to church, the local church of St Matthews in Berron Wick, braving the discomfort of the April rain. But come the afternoon the weather had cleared and the sun was out, making a little less miserable the prospect of Grace’s visit to Mr Fairman’s lodgings.

Before she went, however, she sat down at her little table and began a letter to Aunt Edie, bringing up the surprising possibility of teaching the small daughter of one of Mr Spencer’s friends. And without going into the details of her
initial encounter with Mr Fairman she spoke of having previously met him, and at the same time of not being overly impressed. She would that afternoon, however, be going to see the child. She wrote:

This is one chore I do not look forward to, for I can’t see a wonderfully happy teacher/pupil relationship developing. But anyway, the job being tendered is not something I shall be forced to take, notwithstanding that I might feel some obligation to Mrs Spencer. You can be sure that I shall do what I can to resist Mr Fairman’s offer
.