Greyfriars House

by Emma Fraser

  When she opened her eyes again sunshine was streaming in through her window and last night’s nightmare seemed exactly that. As she bounded out of bed, she told herself that even if Lady Elizabeth did walk Greyfriars, Lady Sarah would never allow her to hurt Olivia. Nevertheless, Olivia never played down at that part of the shore again and sadly neither did Agnes return to Kerista.

  Chapter Three

  Even if Agnes had come back to Greyfriars, Olivia wouldn’t have been able to play with her. Her freedom was to be curtailed for a while. Today, the first guests were to arrive although there were to be only four: Mother’s friends, Agatha and her husband, Gordon, who were regular visitors to their house in London, Aunt Georgina and someone called Findlay.

  With their arrival, summer would start properly. There had been no activities so far. No croquet or board games, no trips to Oban. With Aunt Edith being there, most of the time Mother normally spent with Olivia when they were at Greyfriars had been taken up with her. Mother and Aunt Edith spent hours, just the two of them, their heads close together as they whispered and laughed, or studied pictures in magazines, or retreated to the morning room, only emerging for tea, or lunch on the lawn, or dinner. Whenever Mother found Olivia dawdling in the house, trying to listen to what they were talking about, she would shoo her outside and tell her to go and play. Olivia didn’t really mind. She would have liked a little more of Mother’s attention but there would be time for that once the guests had gone.

  Preparations for the guests’ arrival had been going on since the day the Friels had arrived and had become more frantic with every passing day. Cook had been in a frenzy all week, shooing Olivia from the kitchen whenever she went in search of something to eat, even snapping at her once ‘that didn’t she realise she was getting under everyone’s feet and couldn’t she wait until proper mealtimes?’

  Earlier she’d hung out of her bedroom window, watching Donald’s boat approach the small pier, squinting to catch her first sight of the new arrivals.

  Aunt Georgina had been in Paris, modelling, for the last couple of years so Olivia had only a distant, vague memory of her.

  Georgina stepped ashore first. She was dressed in wide, cream palazzo trousers and a silk blouse, her hair tied up in an emerald green bandana. Her laughter rippled across the still air as she used Donald’s outstretched hand to steady herself. ‘Really, one would have thought Peter would have built a bridge across by now. Already I feel like Robinson Crusoe.’

  Aunt Edith and Mother hurried down to greet the new arrivals, Father following at a more dignified pace behind.

  Agatha and Gordon joined Georgina on the pier. A tall, well-built man with short, dark hair, leapt out after them.

  Leaving her spot by the window, Olivia scurried downstairs and, almost bowling over a maid in her haste, hurtled towards the door, skidding to a halt just in time to compose herself. She might only be nine, but Mother would be livid if she didn’t greet their guests like a young lady.

  Checking no one was looking, she spat in her hand and smoothed down her hair, tucking a stray lock into the ribbon that held her hair back and flapped her hand in front of her face in an attempt to cool her flushed cheeks.

  They had started back towards the house by the time she stepped outside. Mother and Edith were on either side of Georgina, their arms tucked into hers, while Father walked with the stranger and Agatha and Gordon a few paces behind. Through the arch in the rhododendrons, Olivia saw the little boat was already heading back over to the mainland – no doubt to collect the luggage. It had taken Donald four trips to bring theirs across.

  Miss Chivers, the housekeeper, was waiting on the steps and she frowned down at Olivia, tucking a lock of hair Olivia had missed under her ribbon.

  Olivia ducked away from her reach and hurried towards the guests, meeting them on the other side of the rhododendrons.

  ‘You remember Olivia?’ Mother said to Georgina as they stopped to greet her.

  Georgina bent and placed the tip of her finger under Olivia’s chin. ‘I’m not going to say that you’ve grown or any of that nonsense,’ she said. ‘I am very pleased to see you again.’

  When her aunt smiled, Olivia was struck speechless by her beauty. All the sisters were beautiful but Georgina was especially so with her milk-white skin, lightly sprinkled with freckles, her thick, rich red hair and her lovely mouth shiny with lipstick. She had the same blue eyes as Mother and Aunt Edith, but where Aunt Edith’s were a pale blue, Georgina’s were almost indigo and twinkled, as if she had a secret she was just bursting to tell. Everything about her fizzed and bubbled. Like a light. Olivia just wanted to look and look at her. No wonder she was a model!

  ‘Mr Armstrong, this is my daughter, Olivia.’

  Olivia held out her hand and the stranger shook it. He wasn’t good-looking in the way that Olivia’s father was, his nose was too big, his mouth too wide, but he had the same buzzing energy as Georgina had.

  ‘I’ve brought something for you, Olivia. It’s in one of my cases. Why don’t you come up to my room after tea and I’ll see if I can find it?’ Georgina said. She took Mother’s and Edith’s arms again. ‘Come on, you two. I’m simply dying to hear your news!’

  The adults walked through the arch Donald had carved in the rhododendrons, appearing to have immediately forgotten about her. All except for Mr Armstrong. He held out his arm for her to take – just as if she were all grown up.

  She fell a little in love with him right at that moment.

  After tea, Olivia ran up to Georgina’s room and knocked on the door. Georgina opened the door and smiled.

  ‘Oh, there you are, Olivia! Come in! Come in! I’m still looking for your present, can you believe it?’

  Georgina opened the doors of her massive over-packed oak wardrobe and started sifting through the garments hanging on padded wooden hangers. ‘I can’t think where the maid has put it…’

  Georgina’s clothes were a riot of colours and textures: shiny silks in emerald, ruby, cream; muslins and lace in white; fine wool in forest green, diesel blue, peat brown; velvets; cotton in florals, polka dots and other patterns. Olivia wondered if her aunt wasn’t perhaps looking too quickly as the hangers were slammed impatiently against each other.

  Several hats lay on the bed, tossed there as if Georgina couldn’t decide which one she liked best. Olivia picked up one in forest green with a felt thistle on its side brim and tried it on.

  Georgina stopped what she was doing and studied Olivia, her head tipped to the side. ‘That colour is perfect on you.’ She lifted the hat from Olivia’s head and tossed it on the bed. ‘But we don’t wear hats on Greyfriars! Hats are for the city. Just wait until you see what I brought you all the way from Paris. Now where on earth could it be?’

  She started rummaging through her drawers; intimate undergarments, petticoats and camisoles in silk and lace spilled onto the floor or got caught in the drawers as they were hastily closed.

  ‘It wouldn’t be in here…’ Georgina murmured as her long fingers probed the back of the next drawer. She looked up and smiled. ‘It has to be somewhere.’

  ‘Could it be this?’ Olivia suggested, picking up a flimsy, tissue-wrapped package she found on the seat of the velvet-covered chaise longue beneath Georgina’s bedroom window.

  Georgina clapped her hands together. ‘Clever girl! You found it!’ As Olivia continued to hold it out to her, Georgina gleefully plonked herself onto the quilted covers of her four-poster bed and said, ‘Well then, open it!’

  Her hands trembling with excitement, Olivia peeled away the wrapping to reveal a thin-strapped silk camisole top in the palest shell pink. ‘It’s beautiful,’ she gasped, holding it up. Its hem was embedded with a row of tiny pink diamantés. She’d never owned anything so beautiful or so grown up; Mother insisted on cotton vests in the summer, itchy woollen ones in the winter.

  Georgina grinned. ‘Do you like it?’

  Olivia hugged it against her. ‘I love it. Thank you, Aunt Georgina
.’

  ‘I’ve never understood why one can’t have beautiful things, regardless of how old one is. Even when I’m ancient, I’m going to buy all my clothes from Paris.’

  Just then there was a knock on the door and Aunt Edith stepped into the room.

  ‘Look what Aunt Georgina brought me.’ Olivia held out her new camisole top for Aunt Edith to inspect. ‘Isn’t it beautiful?’

  ‘That’s what you bought her, Georgina?’ Aunt Edith said lightly, but Olivia could tell she didn’t really approve. ‘I guess a boring old jigsaw puzzle could never compete.’

  ‘I did like it,’ Olivia protested. ‘But a hundred pieces is too easy.’

  ‘I’m just teasing,’ Edith said, ruffling her hair. ‘Now would you mind excusing us? Your Aunt Georgina and I have lots to chat about.’

  That evening Olivia was to join the guests for dinner, although as soon as it was over and the men and women separated – the men to the study and their cigars, the women to the smaller of the two sittings rooms – she was expected to excuse herself and go to her room.

  In years to come, what she remembered most about that evening was how everything and everyone glittered. Flowers had been sent up from London and placed in vases all over the house until it was impossible to be anywhere without their scent filling the air. The maids had been busy too, dusting and polishing until Greyfriars, that to Olivia’s eyes shone anyway, sparkled and reeked of beeswax as well as the scented flowers. Usually there was only a boat from the village across the water on a Monday and a Friday, but lately it had being coming with provisions every day.

  Olivia had changed quickly and run downstairs even before the first gong sounded. Although the day had been warm and the sun wasn’t due to go down for hours yet, the fire in the hall had been lit, candelabra placed on every available surface so that everything was bathed in a golden light and she sat on the fender to get the best view of the staircase.

  Mother and Father were first; Mother in blue taffeta and Father in evening dress. Next came Edith who was wearing a full-length, blue velvet dress with a thin belt and pearls at her throat. Then came Findlay, looking distinguished and handsome in his dinner jacket and bow tie. Agatha and Gordon followed a few minutes later. Agatha was wearing cream silk and wore a tiara in her hair. As each adult reached the foot of the stairs they took a drink from the tray the manservant held before disappearing into the drawing room. Finally, a good ten minutes after everyone else, came the person Olivia had been waiting for. When Georgina appeared at the top of the first flight of stairs, Olivia caught her breath. Her aunt’s hair had been waved and parted at the side, so it hung over one eye before falling to her shoulders like a sheet of molten fire. Georgina’s ruby red dress clung to her like a second skin, hugging her hips and flaring as it fell to the ground. It was cut low at the front, and with the tiniest of straps. As Georgina glided down the stairs, Olivia could clearly see the shape of her long legs through the thin material of her gown and when she passed by, Olivia saw it was cut even lower at the back. An inch or two more and surely her bottom would be exposed!

  She followed Georgina into the drawing room and immediately the chatter and laughter came to an abrupt stop. There was a collective gasp as everyone took in how beautiful Georgina looked. It was as if she was the sun, and everyone else, with the exception of Findlay, the planets revolving around her. He was the only one who hadn’t gasped when she’d come in. Instead he’d just looked at her with his dark eyes, his lips pressed into a hard line.

  Georgina walked over to the gramophone and put a record on. As the music swirled around the room, whatever spell she had cast was broken and the adults started talking again.

  Chapter Four

  Later that evening, banished to her room and just as Olivia was wondering whether she dare risk getting out of bed to sit on the stairs so she could at least listen to what the adults were saying even if she couldn’t see them, there was a soft tap on the door and Georgina came in. She was carrying a glass of champagne in one hand and holding a cigarette in the other. There were spots of colour on her pale, almost alabaster, cheeks and her eyes were glittering.

  ‘I thought I’d slip away for a bit,’ she said, ‘and come and see you.’ She looked around the room and smiled. ‘Do you know this used to be my bedroom when I was a child?’

  Olivia smiled back. Of course Aunt Georgina would have slept here!

  ‘None of the adults are ever given it because of the steps,’ Georgina continued. ‘If at all squiffy, we wouldn’t be able to manage.’

  The narrow, windy stone steps, hollowed at the centre by the thousands of feet that had trod them, was one of the things Olivia liked best about the turret.

  Georgina selected a book from one of the bookshelves, studied the spine and placed it back on the shelf. Yet, Olivia had the distinct impression that if she asked Georgina to tell her the title of the book she wouldn’t have been able to.

  ‘Edith and I used to share. You’d imagine with all these rooms that we would have had one each, but when we were girls we liked to be together all the time. Isn’t it wonderful when sisters are friends too?’

  Olivia wished she had a sister. If only Agnes had come back…

  ‘It’s not much fun on your own, is it?’ Georgina said, as if reading Olivia’s mind.

  ‘I wish Mother and Father would have a baby,’ Olivia blurted. There was something about Aunt Georgina that made a person feel they could confide in her.

  Georgina raised an eyebrow. ‘Did you tell your mother that?’

  ‘I did. She said she was happy just to have me. But she looked sad when she said it.’

  ‘Mmm.’ Georgina leaned over and ruffled her hair. ‘Then you should believe her.’ She stood and drifted around the room as if she were looking for something but didn’t know what.

  ‘What is Paris like? Have you been to the Eiffel Tower?’ Olivia asked. She was genuinely curious but more than that she wanted Georgina to stay and keep her company a little longer.

  ‘There and everywhere.’ Georgina sank down on the bed and propped herself up on her elbows. ‘Paris is the best city in the world. At least…’ Her face clouded. ‘It was until recently.’

  ‘Why? What do you mean?’

  But Georgina just shook her head and jumped to her feet again. ‘You simply must visit one day. When you are older. Take a boat down the Seine, visit all the galleries and museums. Do you know the French have cafes where you can sit outside and have your coffee while watching the world go by?’

  ‘Couldn’t I come and stay with you? Perhaps before the summer is over. Mother could come too.’

  ‘That would have been wonderful but I don’t live there any more. In a few weeks I’ll be in Singapore.’

  Olivia was dismayed. Singapore was thousands of miles away. It might be years before she saw Georgina again.

  ‘Why are you going to there?’ Olivia asked. ‘When you said you like Paris so much?’

  A shadow crossed Georgina’s face. ‘Sometimes one just has to move on. Nothing ever stays the same, no matter how much one wishes it could.’ She gave her head a tiny shake. ‘Singapore will be just as much fun as Paris, I’m sure.’

  ‘But it’s so far away!’

  ‘Yes it is. And that might not be a bad thing.’ The last was said almost to herself. Before Olivia could ask what she meant, Georgina’s expression brightened. ‘It will take almost six weeks to get there on a steamship! Can you imagine that? Perhaps when you are older you could come and visit me there? With your mother and father.’

  The prospect cheered Olivia enormously. As long as it wasn’t too long a wait.

  Georgina sat down on the edge of the bed. ‘Do you know that once this part of the house was a defensive tower? That’s why this room is shaped as it is and why the steps are so narrow and worn. The family of the people who owned the castle over on the mainland, the one that’s in ruins now, used this tower so they could hide if they had to. They were Jacobites. You have heard of
the Jacobites, haven’t you?’

  Olivia nodded. ‘Donald said this bit was part of a castle a long, long time ago, back when Bonnie Prince Charlie was trying to get his crown back.’

  ‘That’s right. Before that, during the reformation in the sixteenth century, the room below this was the priest’s room, the one that’s the nursery now. I’m assuming you know where the secret staircase is?’

  ‘A secret staircase! Where?’ How could she not have known?

  Georgina walked across the room and pulled back a thick length of cloth to reveal a door. She tugged the wrought-iron handle but it wouldn’t budge. ‘Dash! It’s always kept locked. No one knows where the key is. I imagine Miss Chivers has it on her bunch if it hasn’t been lost. There’s a double wall all the way around the turret and that’s where the staircase runs. It goes from here up to the ramparts and down all the way to the outside – right past the nursery – there’s another secret door that leads into there.’