All I See Is You

by Lily Hammond

  Eliza rose and nodded. She wanted to see more of the house, of its gardens. Was there a big vegetable garden to work in here too? she wondered.

  With a look back at the photographs on the table, Eliza followed Clemency from the room.

  ‘I was just about to come and find you,’ Riley said as soon as Clemency stepped foot into the kitchen at the rear of the house, Eliza in tow.

  Clemency shook her head. ‘Why?’ Riley’s wide white apron was covered in flour, and she had her hands in a large bowl, rubbing butter into the flour. ‘What’s wrong?’ she asked.

  Dot answered, putting down the carrot she was grating at the end of the table. She wiped a hand across her forehead. ‘The telephone rang,’ she said, her eyes taking in the sight of Clemency, then moving to the figure standing like a startled deer beside her, all wide round eyes and pretty hair. She recognised her straight away and wondered with an avid interest why Eliza was there with Clemency.

  ‘The telephone?’ Clemency repeated, and Dot nodded, picking up the carrot again, feeling at home now that she had been offered a proper position in the house. She’d been a little put out to be asked to move on so suddenly from Ruth and Maxine’s place, with no notice at all, just because they needed her bed for the girl Martin had found on the beach – his mermaid. She’d liked it there, Dot had. They were all pretty jolly ladies staying there, considering what they’d all been through.

  But it had worked out coming here after all. Riley was a good sport, and decent enough company, and Dot had already figured out there was a bus that went bumping around the road back to the city, so she could easily hop on that and go visit the others when she had a spare afternoon. And the room and board here was more than she’d ever had before – not even tucked away in the poky old servants’ quarters in the attic, but proper rooms on the second floor – so she’d decided to well and truly count her lucky stars and just settle in.

  ‘It was Maxine,’ Dot said. ‘And she sounded in a right stir.’ Dot pushed the recalcitrant carrot down the grater. It was hard work grating enough carrots for the big cakes they were making. To look at it, you wouldn’t think it much of a job, but it took some muscles. ‘She wanted to know if you’d dropped around.’ Dot’s eyes went back to Eliza standing shyly beside her new employer. ‘Which I said as how you had, with a great lot of vegetables with you.’ She nodded at Eliza. ‘Hello Eliza,’ she said. ‘You look well.’

  ‘Whereupon,’ Riley interrupted, ‘Maxine asked where you were, and if you’d taken one of their girls with you and maybe gone somewhere with her.’ She pinched a piece of butter between her fingers. ‘To which I said you had indeed. I’d seen both of you arrive back here.’ She rubbed an itch on her ear with her shoulder. ‘She would like it if you could return her telephone call.’

  Clemency forbore rolling her eyes at the fuss and stepped into the room. ‘I just came to make some tea, and to see if there’s anything to eat.’

  Riley stood up, dusting the butter and flour from her hands. ‘Who’s your guest, then?’ she asked, looking at the girl. ‘Is this the one you spirited away from Maxine and Ruth’s?’ She delivered a welcoming smile to Eliza, despite the disquiet she felt coming to roost inside her. The girl, she thought, was a very fetching young thing. And according to the rushed conversation she’d had on the telephone with Maxine after plucking the handset from Dot, Eliza was destitute, all alone in the world, and couldn’t speak on top of it all.

  ‘This is Eliza,’ Clemency said. ‘She was interested in the motor car, so I thought I’d take her for a drive. Eliza hasn’t been in the country long.’ Defensiveness made Clemency gruff and she scowled for a moment before pulling herself together. ‘Eliza,’ she said, putting on a smile. ‘This is Riley, who runs everything here and keeps me well in line.’ She turned to wave a hand at Dot. ‘And this is Dot, who you probably know already. Dot is giving us a much-needed hand with everything.’ She looked back at Dot and nodded. ‘Riley has told you we want you to stay on in an official capacity, so to speak?’

  Dot nodded. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘And thank you, I’ll be very pleased to.’ But her interest was taken by the presence of Eliza. She’d wondered, seeing Clemency visiting Maxine and Ruth so regularly, if perhaps she was the same as them – one of those women who weren’t interested in taking a husband. Before she’d met Maxine and Ruth, she might have frowned on such an unnatural business, but rubbing along with the couple, strange as it might be, had given her a more forgiving perspective.

  But still, she wondered, why had Clemency spirited Eliza away from the house? From the way Riley had looked, speaking on the telephone, Maxine had not been too happy about it. Maxine, for all that she could be gruff sometimes, was pretty easy-going. So why would she be upset by this turn of affairs? The questions prickled at Dot, and she wondered happily at them.

  Eliza, feeling their eyes on her, straightened her shoulders. She was used to curious gazes. She smiled and nodded her head at everyone.

  ‘Good,’ Clemency said, not enjoying the awkwardness of the scene. ‘I’ll put the kettle on then. I think I’ll show Eliza the garden, and then I will return her to Maxine and Ruth.’ The last was said with an arch look at Riley, who simply blinked and nodded stolidly.

  ‘I’ll bring you some sandwiches,’ Riley said. ‘And the tea when it is ready.’

  Clemency touched Eliza’s elbow, nodding towards the door. They stepped outside into an explosion of scent, from the garden, the orchard, and below them, from the harbour. Clemency shook her head.

  ‘Sorry about that,’ she said. ‘Riley gets a bit over-protective. She raised me from a baby, so is more mother than anyone else I have.’ She flicked a glance at Eliza. ‘I’m sorry if they made you uncomfortable.’

  But Eliza had her eyes closed and her head tipped back, nose flaring as she breathed deeply, flooding her senses with the fragrances that floated on the air all around her.

  Clemency stared at her for a moment shoulders relaxing. ‘Beautiful, isn’t it?’ Clemency said, speaking of the garden but still looking at Eliza. ‘My mother planned and planted the garden.’ She paused. ‘Before I was born, obviously. She designed it with scent in mind, my father told me.’ A smile creased Clemency’s face. ‘I’ve kept it up as best as I can. Gregory, our gardener, is a godsend. It wouldn’t look even half as lovely without his tender care of it all.’ She touched Eliza on the arm, a gesture as natural as breathing, she discovered. ‘Come and sit down over here. You’ll find it just as lovely, and the roses are still soldiering on.’

  She led Eliza to an arrangement of cast iron table and chairs set in the delicate shade of a rose that clambered over an archway, its deep red blooms scenting the air.

  Eliza decided that this must be the smell of utter perfection. She sat in one of the chairs, tracing its white-painted iron curlicues and lifting her face to the gentle breeze that brought with it not only the fragrance of flowers, soil, trees, but underneath it all, the low, salty note of the harbour.

  Riley brought them tea, and a plate of sandwiches, the bread still warm from her oven. She took in both the smiling thanks on Eliza’s face, and the way that Clemency avoided meeting her eye.

  So, she thought, it was like that, was it? She put the tea things on the table and held the tray at her side, looking at both of them for a moment.

  The girl seemed oblivious, she thought. And young. An innocent. And obviously in a precarious position, to be staying at Maxine and Ruth’s. Her threadbare summer dress and heavy winter shoes said as much.

  Riley loved Maxine and Ruth as much as it was possible to love your friends, and she loved Clemency as her own child, had held her as a baby as her own child, getting up to her in the night, soothing all the bumps and bruises of childhood, listening as the girl grew and sulked her way through the difficult in-between years when you were no longer child but not yet grown, and she knew her better than anybody.

  And accepted her for what she was, because how could she not? Her heart would not let h
er turn away from the young woman who had started bringing other young women home to giggle and swoon over. Even though such things were a shock, and she was glad even now Clemency’s father had never suspected a thing. Riley had come to terms with it. Love had made that possible.

  But as she walked away from the table by the rose garden, she put her hand to her chest, feeling a disquiet there in her heart.

  Clemency had stopped bringing female friends home a long time ago. Now, it seemed, her only friends were Ruth and Maxine, and Riley was glad Clemency had the comfort of them, but they were a couple, and Clemency was alone. That the solitude had begun to wear on Clemency was something Riley was too aware off.

  She would be happy if Clemency found someone she could love, and who loved her back. But a dark cloud settled over her mind. This young woman – how was she likely to be the one? Clemency was setting herself up for a fall, and Riley, stepping back inside to the warm shadows of her kitchen, knew that there was barely a thing she could do about it.

  She returned to her mixing bowl, deep in thought as Dot chattered away about everything and nothing. ‘She’s a bit young, though, isn’t she?’ Dot said, and Riley caught that remark and lifted her head.

  ‘What?’ she asked.

  Dot shrugged, knowing she might be overstepping herself. ‘I mean, I’m thinking Clemency is that way inclined – you know what I mean, and I’m not judging, not after all the kindnesses shown to me by Maxine and Ruth – I mean, who couldn’t adore those two? Maxine so funny and jolly, and Ruth so kind?’ She paused for a quick breath, aware Riley’s eyes were on her. She spoke faster. ‘I just mean, it’s obvious, isn’t it, that Clemency is taken by Eliza?’ She bent back to her work. ‘I’m sure I’m speaking out of turn, but Eliza’s just very young, is what I mean. And can’t speak either.’ Eliza was only a year younger than Dot herself, but she didn’t mention that fact. Dot could speak. Dot was much more worldly – anyone could tell that.

  Riley pressed her lips together. ‘It’s none of our business,’ she said, and Dot flushed, returning to her pile of carrots and keeping her mouth resolutely shut.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  She needed to take Eliza home. The teapot was empty, and Clemency had managed to nibble on a sandwich while watching Eliza eat two of them. She’d also managed not to reach across the table and wipe a smear of butter from the soft skin of Eliza’s cheek, but only barely.

  It was definitely time to take her home.

  Clemency closed her eyes briefly. What had she been thinking in the first place, popping the girl in the car and dragging her out here? Showing her the photographs and bringing her out to tea in the garden like it was a normal thing between friends?

  It wasn’t. Clemency touched the back of her hand to the flushed skin of her cheek and knew it wasn’t. She was sitting opposite this young woman because Eliza was intriguing, and beautiful, and Clemency wanted to reach out and touch her, run her fingers down that creamy soft skin, to tangle them in that heavy sheaf of hair, to press her lips to Eliza’s, feeling her warm breath mingling with hers.

  She closed her eyes.

  A touch startled her, and she cried out, opening her eyes to see Eliza standing beside her, hand on her arm, a question in her eyes.

  Clemency swallowed, stood up clumsily, the chair digging its heels into the grass, so that she bumped into Eliza trying to move it, and jerked back.

  ‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘Do you need to use the powder room before we go?’

  A look of relief flooded into Eliza’s face and she nodded. Clemency nodded too.

  ‘I’m sorry I stole you away from Maxine and Ruth’s,’ she said, walking slowly back to the house. ‘It was just an impulse, really. I hope you don’t mind.’

  Eliza stopped walking and snagged Clemency’s sleeve. The fabric of her blouse was just as soft and fine as she’d thought it would be, and her lips curled in a smile as she held it between her fingers. Then she dropped her hand when she saw Clemency looking at her, and instead she clasped her hands between her breasts and squeezed her shoulders in tight, lifting her face in joy. When she let go of the position, she felt the shine of her own happiness on her face and hoped that Clemency could see it too.

  ‘You’ve enjoyed yourself?’ Clemency asked.

  Eliza nodded, and turned towards the house again.

  It was Clemency’s turn to nod, and she did, drawing in a deep breath and letting it out slowly, trying to drain the dreadful tension from her body. It worked, or in good part, anyway. Then Eliza took her arm, and tucked herself into Clemency’s side, and Clemency walked in a dreamy fog through the garden back to the house.

  At the doorway, Eliza squeezed Clemency’s arm and ran away inside before Clemency could even tell her where the lavatory was. She shrugged, smiling, and turned back to lift her face to the sun while she waited. Eliza would probably enjoy poking her head into the rooms looking for it, and why not let her do so?

  Eliza glanced back, saw Clemency turning away to bask in the clear light streaming down from between the great leafy trees on the front lawn, and made quickly for the stairs. At the landing, she was caught again by the coloured glass window at the end of the hallway and paused to stare at it. She wondered if she could get Clemency to tell her more stories of mermaids and their songs. Unconsciously, she touched her throat again, then gave herself a little shake. She had to hurry.

  In Clemency’s studio, she looked at the table for the photograph she wanted, the one of herself, and there it was, still lying where she’d left it, and she picked it up and wondered where she could put it so that it couldn’t be noticed. She didn’t want to fold it to fit in her pocket, but it was too big and she didn’t know what else to do with it. Her mouth working in a grimace, she folded the photograph until she could tuck it away. She patted it there and hoped that Clemency wouldn’t notice she’d taken it. She just wanted to look at it again; that was all.

  Holding her hand against her pocket, Eliza turned, looking once more around the room, at all the equipment there, wondering what it was all for, and how it was used, and if she would get the chance to come out here again to this beautiful house and find out. The windows caught her eye and she realised they were actually doors, and glancing out into the hallway, she drifted over to gaze out them, despite herself. They opened onto another porch and she put her fingers to the handle, wanting to open it and step out. She kept her hand still.

  Below on the lawn, Eliza could see Clemency there, a tall, slim figure in her nice clothes, the linen skirt, the soft, cream-coloured blouse that Eliza had admired so much. She had her face still turned to the sun and Eliza gazed down at her, at her golden skin, the straight nose, and the fair hair cut close to her head, and Eliza moved her hand from her pocket to press against her chest, tipping her head to the side as though listening.

  In a way, she was listening. Inside her there were flutterings, and whispers of feelings she didn’t quite understand. Her heart beat more quickly in her chest, and her lips parted with her breath.

  Down on the lawn, Clemency turned, looking towards the house, and Eliza backed quickly away from the window, her heart beating louder, rapping against her ribs. She leaned against the heavy curtain at the side of the window, feeling the flush of heat upon her cheeks. Raising a hand to touch her hot skin, she swallowed, blinked, and shivered.

  Maxine strode down to the motor car as soon as Clemency had pulled on the hand brake. She jammed her hands into the pockets of her trousers, and sucked in a breath of heavy summer air, trying to calm herself.

  Clemency had the roof of the motor down, Maxine saw, and in the front seat the two heads, one red, one fair, were turned towards each other. She walked faster.

  ‘There you are,’ she said, greeting them before reaching the big flash Ford and watching both heads swivel towards her. Was that a blush rising on Clemency’s cheeks as Maxine looked at her? Or was the high colour the result of the pretty woman Clemency had just been looking at?

  ‘Hul
lo Maxine,’ Clemency said, getting out of the motor car and going around the other side to open Eliza’s door for her. Maxine scowled, couldn’t help it, despite her promise to herself of less than a minute ago that she wouldn’t show her distress – until she knew the true lay of the land.

  Clemency saw the displeasure on Maxine’s face and ignored it. ‘I took Eliza for a drive,’ she said easily. ‘She’s never been in a motor car before.’

  Maxine’s frown deepened. ‘Most of our ladies haven’t been in one anything like yours,’ she said, her words hard and clipped. She looked over at Eliza. ‘Ruth has been looking for you, Eliza,’ she said. ‘She has some clothes she thinks might fit you.’

  Eliza blinked at Maxine, pausing in the door to the motor car, trying to read the cause of the tension in the air. She nodded and dipped her chin. Maxine wanted to talk to Clemency, she realised. She turned to Clemency, who stood close enough for Eliza to feel the heat of her body and shiver again. Impulsively, she lifted onto her tip toes and kissed Clemency on the cheek. She wanted to thank her for the ride in the motor car, for the tea and sandwiches in the shade of the roses, for the photographs – for everything.

  Clemency looked down at Eliza, startled by the kiss, and was still bemused, lifting a hand to her cheek when Eliza threw her a quick smile, snatched up the wilted pile of vegetables from the back seat, and hurried off, ducking past Maxine and into the house.

  Clemency walked around the motor. ‘That was rude,’ she said, the imprint of Eliza’s lips still burning on her skin. ‘You didn’t have to treat her that way.’

  Maxine spoke through gritted teeth, the image of Eliza kissing Clemency’s cheek still dancing behind her eyelids. ‘What should I have done?’ she asked. ‘Whirl her off for a spin in my fancy motor, dazzling the poor thing and preying on her innocence?’