108. An Archangel Called Ivan

by Barbara Cartland

  It smelt rather musty after the very smart carriages her father had always used.

  She felt, as she drove away, that she was setting off on a marvellous adventure with golden wings.

  ‘No one will be able to find me for a long time,’ she told herself, ‘and by then I may well have found all that I am seeking.’

  It seemed to her that they reached King’s Cross Station in a very short time because she was so deep in her own thoughts.

  The driver handed her case down to a porter.

  “Where be you goin’, miss?” he enquired.

  Arliva had the directions that Mrs. Hill had given her and she read them to the porter.

  “That ’ere train be in now,” he said. “But it won’t be leavin’ till eight o’clock.”

  “I am quite prepared to wait,” Arliva answered. “So, if you will find me a comfortable carriage, I will be very happy.”

  The porter laughed.

  “It’s what all travellers ’opes they’ll be and many be disappointed.”

  She paid the Hackney carriage driver his fare and it included a good tip.

  He looked at it in surprise and then said,

  “Thank you very much, miss. I ’opes you ’ave a good journey.”

  “That is what I hope myself,” Arliva replied.

  She smiled at him before she turned to follow the porter.

  He was wheeling her case in his trolley and they walked quite a long way until, in one of the platforms, she saw a small train that was obviously the one travelling to Huntingdonshire.

  The porter found her an empty carriage – in fact they were all more or less empty.

  He then put her case in the guard’s van.

  She tipped him and he touched his forelock.

  “That be the first I’ve ’ad today,” he said, “and you be a real lady bringin’ me luck.”

  “That is what I am looking for myself,” she sighed.

  “Then perhaps you’ll find it!” the porter exclaimed. “I thinks lookin’ as you do you’ll win one way or another.”

  “I can only hope your good wishes will come true,” Arliva answered, “and thank you for bringing me here.”

  She sat down in the carriage and wondered what would happen when the housemaid called her and found her bedroom empty with the letter to Aunt Molly lying on the pillow.

  She knew that the older servants would be shocked at the idea of her going out alone so early in the morning as she was always expected to have someone in attendance.

  And they would be even more surprised that she had left without travelling in one of the many carriages that belonged to her.

  She knew, however, that everything would carry on exactly as it had for the last ten or fifteen years and the same applied to the house in the country.

  Her father had chosen very skilful and trustworthy men to be in charge of the house and the estate, just as the older servants, who had been in the house in Park Lane, had been in charge for nearly the same length of time.

  ‘I suppose I am very lucky in having them,’ Arliva mused.

  At the same time it was yet another of the many attractions that acted as a bait to those men who valued her possessions more than her.

  During the next quarter-of-an-hour people began to arrive on the platform and climb into the empty carriages.

  Arliva hoped that she would travel alone.

  But just before it was time to leave, a young man, who she thought looked as if he was a salesman or perhaps a senior clerk, entered her carriage.

  He sat at the other end from where she was sitting and he looked at her once or twice but did not speak.

  The train then started to leave with a great deal of puffing and clanking.

  They had travelled some way before the young man asked Arliva somewhat tentatively,

  “I wonder if you would mind if I smoke. I did not realise when I boarded the train that this one was a non-smoking carriage.”

  “It will not worry me,” Arliva replied.

  She thought, as she was speaking, just how many cigars her father had smoked during the day.

  She had grown used to the smell of his cigars and he had often said that they helped him to think.

  “Not that I would approve of women smoking,” he had added quickly. “So I refuse to allow you to even try it.”

  “I have no wish to do so,” Arliva had answered, “but I like the aroma of your cigars.”

  “I used to buy them when I could afford it,” her father replied, “but now I find they help me to think out my plans and I pride myself that, if I have a problem, by the time I have finished my cigar I have solved it!”

  “Then, as you have so many problems, Papa, your cigars must always be at hand.”

  “Absolutely right!” her father had chuckled.

  The young man had by now opened his cigarette case and Arliva saw that it was quite an expensive-looking one.

  “Can I offer you a cigarette?” he asked.

  Arliva shook her head.

  “It’s very kind of you, but I don’t smoke.”

  “Quite right too,” he said. “I don’t like women who smoke. They always smell of it and seem to make more mess of smoking than a man does.”

  Arliva laughed.

  “I am sure you are right, but I think that smoking is essentially a man’s pleasure and if women smoke there just seems something wrong about it.”

  She thought as she spoke that some of the Society Dowagers had begun to smoke.

  Their contemporaries had been very rude about it, while the younger men had said definitely it spoilt a pretty girl if she smelt of cigarettes and it was not attractive to watch her smoking.

  When he had offered her a cigarette, the young man had moved almost opposite her.

  Now he asked,

  “Where are you going?”

  Arliva thought it a mistake to give him her address, so she replied,

  “I am getting off at Huntingdon.”

  “Oh, I know that part of the country,” he said. “I think you’ll find it very dull.”

  “I have already been told so,” Arliva replied. “But, as I am going to look after children, I should expect that they will keep me busy.”

  “So you’re a Governess!” the man exclaimed.

  Arliva nodded.

  There was silence for a moment before he said,

  “It’s only the rich who can afford a Governess for their children. I was sent to school almost as soon as I could toddle and I hated the other children who teased me and knocked me about until I was old enough to hit them back.”

  “Which I am sure you did very effectively.”

  She realised that he was nearly six foot tall and had a determined attitude about him and it made her think that he would always get his own way.

  “I don’t suppose you’re interested,” he said, “but I’ve had to fight hard for my place in life and now I’ve got it I’m really determined not to lose it. That means using my brain twenty-four hours a day.”

  “What do you do,” Arliva asked, “which makes it such hard work?”

  “I’m running a business that makes certain products for this country and I am striving in every way possible to encourage a demand for them overseas.”

  “It sounds exciting!” Arliva exclaimed. “At least you can move about and not stay stuck in one place which might be dull.”

  “You’re quite right,” he agreed, “but sometimes I find it very hard when I’m wanted in two or three places at the same time and there’s no way of getting there faster than the train will take me.”

  “Is that what you are doing now?” Arliva asked.

  “It is,” he affirmed, “so I don’t suppose that I’ll be seeing you again, which I would like to do.”

  Arliva looked at him enquiringly.

  Then he said,

  “You are the prettiest young girl I’ve seen for a long time and that’s a considerable compliment because I see a great many of them one way or
another as I travel around.”

  “Thank you,” Arliva answered, “you encourage me to feel that I may be a success in the new job I have just undertaken.”

  She thought as she spoke how amused her father would be at her doing anything so unnecessary as working for her living.

  At the same time she knew it was the first step in her determination to meet people who liked her for herself and not for what she possessed.

  Because she thought it a mistake to talk too much about herself, she said,

  “Do tell me which countries you are working in at the moment. I have done a little travelling and I always thought that the salesmen in France are more polite and efficient than those in other countries.”

  He considered what she said before he replied,

  “I think you are right. I also find that I get on very well with the Italians, although you have to make sure that they pay up before you deliver the goods.”

  “That must apply to many countries, but I am sure that you are clever enough to prevent them from tricking you,” Arliva commented.

  “I try to be,” he replied. “But as you doubtless will know the world is full of people who want something for nothing and those who find it more amusing to trick you than to play the game fairly, so to speak.”

  “I know exactly what you are saying to me,” Arliva agreed. “My father thought the same and, when I travelled with him, he always warned me against trusting a foreigner too far and making sure that I received full value for the money I spent.”

  “Your father was clearly very wise,” the man said. “But I think you’ll find where you’re going the country folk are slow and you’ll not find anyone bright enough to trick you even if they wanted to do so!”

  “You are very encouraging,” Arliva smiled.

  The young man was silent for a moment and she sensed that he was considering her in detail as he puffed at his cigarette.

  Then he said,

  “You are too pretty to be working for your living. Just you watch out for those who’ll be after you like a fox after a chicken. Lock your bedroom door at night.”

  Arliva looked at him in astonishment.

  “I don’t think I would run into difficulties of that sort,” she replied in a superior way.

  “I wouldn’t bet on it not happening to someone with a face life yours,” the man remarked. “If your father was here, I’m sure he’d give you the same advice as I have given you.”

  “It’s very kind of you to be so concerned,” Arliva said, “and I will certainly do as you suggest.”

  “There’s a good girl and I hope we’ll meet again sometime,” the man replied. “I get off at the next station, but I’ll be thinking about you because I can’t help it. I’m hoping against hope that we’ll meet again.”

  Arliva held out her hand.

  “I have enjoyed meeting you very much and thank you for your kindness.”

  He shook her hand and shook it hard.

  Then, as the train stopped, he opened the door and jumped out.

  “Goodbye,” he called out through the open window raising his hat. “Take good care of yourself.”

  He walked away and joined a number of people who had already disembarked at the station.

  Arliva sat back smiling to herself.

  She had at least met one man who was interested enough in her for herself and he had been kind enough to give her advice and not to think that in any way she might be useful to him.

  The train moved on and they came to the station that Mrs. Hill had told her to alight at.

  She got out and found a porter to take her case out of the guard’s van.

  “I think,” Arliva said somewhat nervously, “I have someone meeting me from Lord Wilson’s house.”

  “Oh, I knows where that be,” the porter said. “’E’s often been ’ere and I expects, though it be impertinent of me to say so, miss, that you be the next Governess.”

  Arliva looked at him in surprise.

  “How do you know that?” she asked.

  “They comes and they goes and it’s a real joke as to whether them children’ll ever ’ave any education for more than a few days.”

  He laughed before Arliva could answer and went on,

  “The last one stays for only two weeks. As ’er be leavin’ ’er says, ‘I’m goin’ away and I’ll be glad to get back to civilisation. All of you down ’ere look as if you comes from Noah’s Ark’.”

  “Well, that was rude,” Arliva remarked.

  “That ’er ’ad some reason for sayin’ it,” he said. “We’re all a bit behind the times and this ’ere part of the country be very dull for someone as young and pretty as you be.”

  “Now you are depressing me before I have even arrived,” Arliva retorted.

  The porter laughed.

  “I’m ready to ’elp you when you goes back and you ’aven’t got that much luggage to start with.”

  He did not wait for her to answer, but pushed his trolley ahead.

  Arliva saw outside the station was what her mother had always called a ‘dog cart’. It was suitable for children and was usually drawn by one rather slow pony.

  There was an oldish man with grey hair in it who climbed out and touched his cap politely when the porter arrived with Arliva.

  “’Ere she be,” the porter said. “I guessed as soon as she stepped out of the train she be the one that you was a-lookin’ for.”

  “Good afternoon to you, miss,” the older man said politely. “His Lordship ’ears you was comin’ on this train and sent I to meet you. My name be Archie.”

  Arliva held out her hand and he took it with rather an air of surprise.

  Then she tipped the porter, who said in a whisper that could easily be heard,

  “Don’t you let ’em bully you and you get your own way.”

  “I will certainly try,” Arliva smiled.

  She stepped into the dog cart and Archie picked up the reins.

  They drove off rather slowly as she noticed that the pony drawing it was somewhat fat as if he had not had enough exercise.

  There was a small village by the station in which she thought that there was an obvious shortage of larger middle class houses.

  As they drove by, the cottages were not prosperous, looking like those on her father’s land and most of them were in need of a coat of paint.

  They drove on through what was obviously a very small town and were almost immediately into what anyone might say was the real depths of the country.

  The lanes they were travelling along were narrow and in great need of repair and the cottages were few and far between.

  And then they seemed to be driving for a long way without passing through a village.

  Archie appeared to be concentrating on his horses, so Arliva felt that it might be a mistake to ask questions.

  However, when they had gone for over a mile, she did ask him,

  “Does his Lordship own many horses?”

  “’E used to ’ave a lot and fine they were when we first had ’em, but them as be left are gettin’ old and, as there’s only the young children to ride ’em, they don’t have enough exercise and that be the truth.”

  “Well, I love riding,” Arliva said, “so I hope you will be able to mount me.”

  Archie looked at her in surprise.

  “You likes ridin’?” he questioned, “but most of the Governesses who comes ’ere are afraid of ’orses and then fussed when the children were out ridin’.”

  “Well, I certainly am not a fusspot,” Arliva said, “and, as I want to ride myself, I hope that you will tell me which are the best and fastest horses his Lordship has in his stables.”

  Archie laughed.

  “Oh, well, one never knows just what to expect and you’ll certainly be a surprise to the grooms.”

  Arliva thought it wise not to answer this.

  They drove on in silence until they entered a village that seemed to be larger than any she had seen previously.
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  The cottages were thatched and in the centre was a Norman Church and there were also two or three small shops.

  She was just about to ask if this was where Wilson Hall was located, when they turned in through some large gates with a lodge keeper’s house on either side of them.

  The drive was long, but at the far end she could see a house.

  Her first impression was that it looked very pretty, and then, as the dog cart drew nearer, she realised that it had an almost grim frontage.

  Then she saw the flowers on either side of it and she knew that it was definitely the country she had longed for when she was cooped up in London.

  But there was indeed something missing although she could not explain to herself.

  Archie drove the dog cart to the front door, which opened as they arrived.

  She saw, standing at the top of the steps, there was a butler and she thought it was like coming home.

  It was exactly as the old butler, who had been with her father for so long, would stand waiting for the guests to arrive and the door was opened to welcome them before their carriage came to a standstill.

  “Thank you for bringing me here,” Arliva said to Archie, “and the flowers are lovely.”

  “They ought to be good flowers at The Hall,” he said. “We used to win every prize at the Flower Show when we ’ad one.”

  Arliva knew from the way he spoke that the Flower Show no longer existed.

  But there was no chance to say anything more.

  As she climbed down from the dog cart, an elderly footman in uniform which was too big for him, as he had shrunk with age, came to carry her case into the house.

  She walked up the steps and the butler, who had not moved from his position since she had first seen him, said,

  “Good morning, Miss Parker. I hope you’ll enjoy staying here with us at Wilson Hall.”

  Arliva held out her hand and he looked at it in surprise before he shook it.

  Then he said,

  “His Lordship’s resting at the moment, so I’ll take you up to the nursery.”

  Arliva thought that he should say ‘the schoolroom’, but she did not make any remark as he went ahead of her up the stairs and she was followed by the elderly footman carrying her suitcase.

  As she expected, when they reached the first floor, they climbed another flight of stairs up to the second where she was quite certain that the nursery, as the butler called it, would be situated.