‘Indeed, will you join me? I was just thinking of having some tea, and I could do with some company.’
‘Well, it wouldn’t do any harm,’ Kanie replied, looking around, and seeing her daughter called out, ‘Evie, could you bring some tea for Mrs Coradine and myself?’
‘Certainly mother,’ her daughter replied, looking towards Mrs Coradine, who smiled in return.
Kanie sat primly across the table from Ethel. ‘What brings you to the Isle of Man so regularly, Mrs Coradine?’
‘Oh I need to get away for a while. It is so horrid in Blackpool presently, with all of this war talk—I truly think it is worse than the Great War,’ Ethel replied. ‘Not nearly as gay.’
Kanie looked a little startled, and Ethel realised her comment may have been unfeeling. ‘Tell me a bit about yourself Mrs Kane,’ she said, changing the subject as she pulled out a cigarette.
‘Not much to tell really, Mrs Coradine.’
‘Nonsense,’ countered Ethel, striking a match and efficiently lighting her cigarette. ‘Are you a local, perchance?’
Kanie shook her head. ‘No, I came here to work, before the Great War.’
‘You must have been young,’ Ethel remarked to the lady opposite, who gave a small smile at the compliment.
‘Yes, I was, seventeen.’
‘Did you come with your family, perhaps?’
‘No, no, I was orphaned quite young. I trained as a waitress at the Imperial in Blackpool.’
‘I know it well, a good hotel,’ Ethel replied. ‘How exciting for you though, at seventeen, setting off to a new country.’
Kanie gave a small smile at the memory. ‘Yes, it was, but I worked hard and was kept busy.’
‘Did you come here, to this hotel to work?’ Ethel asked, looking thoughtfully at Mrs Kane as she drew on her cigarette.
‘No, no, I worked at the Castle Mona at the start. That’s where I met Leo, my husband—he was having a drink at the bar one night and spontaneously broke out into song.’ Kanie looked across at Mrs Coradine, who sat relaxed, her cigarette dangling between her fingers, with the smoke slowly rising towards the high ceiling. Ethel gave her a smile and a slight nod, as if asking her to continue.
‘When he finished singing, I told him he sung with such pathos,’ Kanie said, ‘and he told me it wasn’t so much pathos as Guinness! He did make me laugh.’ She stopped talking as her daughter placed a tea tray on the table. ‘Thank you Eva, I will pour.’ Eva looked at Mrs Coradine, who gave a small smile and watched as the teenage girl walked away.
‘Such a pretty daughter you have,’ Ethel observed.
‘Yes I suppose so, our Eva is a good girl,’ Kanie mused absently, opening the teapot and peering in, then pouring the tea into the two china cups on the tray. ‘Sugar? Milk, Mrs Coradine?’
‘Both, thank you Mrs Kane—three sugars,’ Ethel replied, watching as the efficient lady opposite carefully measured and placed the sugar into the cup, following with a dash of milk before handing it over.
‘Thank you, that looks perfect,’ purred Ethel. She picked the teaspoon off the saucer and thoughtfully stirred the sugar in. ‘You said you have two hotels?’
‘Yes,’ said Kanie, settling back into her chair with her cup of tea. ‘This one, the Howstrake Majestic, and the first Leo and I bought before the Great War, the Falcon Cliff.’
‘You bought them? Your husband didn’t own them before you were married?’
Mrs Kane gave a laugh, short and abrupt. ‘Heavens no, we bought the Falcon Cliff first, and did quite well out of it after we rebuilt the old vertical railway car to bring guests from the promenade to the top of the cliff. We paid off that debt within four years,’ she stated proudly, ‘enough that we could buy this larger hotel before this war started, but we are finding it difficult to run two hotels with our son away fighting.’
‘I, too, have sons away fighting,’ Ethel said quietly, placing her cup and saucer carefully back on the table.
‘So you know the worry,’ Kanie replied.
‘Indeed, Mrs Kane, I do,’ confirmed Ethel. ‘Both my sons are officers. Frank is in the navy, and Basil in the RAF—I do hope they will be alright.’
Mrs Kane nodded in understanding. ‘Yes, I miss Douglas, and he is such a help with the hotels. I hope this war ends soon.’ They both concentrated on the tea before them. ‘Or we could sell the Falcon Cliff, it really is too much.’
Ethel looked at her. ‘I may be able to help there,’ she answered slowly. ‘I know of several people who would be interested in purchasing a profitable hotel.’
‘Really, Mrs Coradine?’ asked Kanie hopefully.
‘Yes, but I would like to have a look at it first.’
22
THE FALCON CLIFF HOTEL
Kanie drove Mrs Coradine to the Falcon Cliff that afternoon, explaining more about the hotel on the way. It had originally been built in 1836 for the Governor of the Isle of Man and had been converted into an impressive hotel in the 1870s. When Kanie and Leo bought it, it had been cheap as it was too steep for people to access easily, and was a fair distance by road from the tourist strip along the promenade, but Kanie could see the potential. Once they rebuilt the vertical railway, it became a tourist attraction in its own right, and locals and visitors flocked to the grand hotel.
As they drove through the large wrought-iron gates, Ethel learnt that the British Government was presently renting out the entire Falcon Cliff Hotel, and had been since the start of the war. The Isle of Man had multiple alien civilian internment camps; Ethel had seen the fenced-off sections in the capital, where some 60 holiday houses and hotels were now full of internees, and had heard mention of other camps dotted around the island. Kanie explained there was a large male-only camp of nearly 1000 Finnish, German and Italian internees at Ramsey to the north; the whole of Port Erin to the south, and neighbouring Port St Mary was a camp for nearly 3000 women and children; and another camp for POWs and Fascists was established on the west of the island at Peel. Ethel had heard the stories of some of the inhabitants, and was now to learn that Falcon Cliff was the intern hospital. Thousands of internees now took the place of the summer tourists on the Isle of Man.
As Kanie went on at length about the beauty of the building, its high stone walls and castle-like turrets made an instant impression on Ethel, who was delighted by the thought of being mistress to such a large, imposing Gothic castle-like home. Falcon Cliff had once been the place to go, Kanie explained as they walked in, and would be again.
Ethel could see past the hospital beds lined up in the huge ballroom, and instead concentrated on the exquisite parquetry floors and leadlight windows facing inland, and the breathtaking views across the ocean on the other side. She pictured new modern furniture, servants and a life of luxury.
It was straight out of a movie set. She had to have it.
‘How much does the army pay for Falcon Cliff?’ Mr Livesey asked Kanie as they sat in her office at the Majestic.
Kanie looked at him carefully, and then to Mrs Coradine seated beside him. She was somewhat confused at the inclusion of another of her frequent visitors, Mr Livesey, in the meeting, and was starting to see a relationship between the two she was not entirely comfortable with.
‘A reasonable stipend,’ Kanie replied. ‘Enough to cover your costs until this war ends.’ She stiffened as Ethel reached over and placed her hand on Mr Livesey’s leg.
‘I love it,’ Ethel said quietly. Mr Livesey smiled at her indulgently.
‘You have seen the figures before the war started,’ Kanie stated, drawing back the couple’s attention. ‘Run well, it will be a profitable hotel again.’
Mr Livesey nodded thoughtfully. ‘Thank you, Mrs Kane, we would like to think about it.’
Kanie pulled herself upright and looked at the pair through her spectacles. ‘I had not realised you were in business together,’ she remarked.
Ethel smiled gently. ‘We are to be married, Mrs Kane.’
‘But you are already
married, are you not?’ she asked Mr Livesey. ‘Both of you, to different people?’ she added, looking between the two.
‘Oh, no need to bother yourself Mrs Kane,’ Ethel assured her. ‘Mr Livesey here is seeking a divorce, and my husband is ill—he won’t be with us much longer.’
Kanie looked momentarily in horror at them both. ‘I thought your husband must have been serving, Mrs Coradine, I had no idea …’ Her face closed and she looked blankly at the pair before her. ‘I see. Well, Mr Livesey, I would appreciate an answer about Falcon Cliff promptly,’ she said, raising herself from her chair. Mr Livesey and Ethel followed suit.
‘Certainly Mrs Kane. I will speak with my lawyer and we will let you know,’ he affirmed, grabbing his hat off the desk, missing the flash of anger that briefly spread over Mrs Kane’s face.
Ethel saw it, and Mrs Kane held her eye.
‘I run a respectable establishment here, and would appreciate it if you no longer frequented the Majestic on any of your future “visits”,’ she stated to Ethel.
Mr Livesey cleared his throat.
‘Thank you Mrs Kane,’ he stated. ‘We will be in correspondence with you about your hotel.’
It was decided: they would move together to the Isle of Man.
Ethel formally closed up her stall and moved back to her home with the now totally bedridden Mr Coradine, while Mr Livesey formally asked his wife for a divorce.
Ethel dutifully stayed by William Coradine’s bedside for his final weeks. On Friday, 15 October 1943, he passed peacefully away, leaving Ethel to be the dutiful widow. She promptly published a notice in The Times, visited the solicitor, put the house in Hardhorn Poulton on the market and waited for their purchase of Falcon Cliff to finalise.
On 26 November it was theirs. Ethel sold off the household contents of the Coradine home, withdrew all the money from her late husband’s estate, packed up her prize possessions—namely her jewellery and clothes—and caught the plane to the Isle of Man. Mr Livesey greeted her at the aerodrome, then whisked her up to the clifftops and into their new home.
An army captain, Captain Harrison, headed the Falcon Cliff internee hospital. He oversaw the hospital doctor, who was himself an internee, and ran the hospital with the help of a storekeeper, clerk, three cooks, four sanitary staff, a stoker and four orderlies.
Ethel and Mr Livesey stayed in their room on the top floor, overlooking the large houses on top of the cliff behind them, until they could find a suitable alternative, and for the next few weeks Ethel had great fun lording around Falcon Cliff, charming the Captain and gaining all sorts of fascinating information—the local airfield had become a training ground for the RAF, bombing and air-to-air firing ranges had been set up, there was a ground-defence gunner’s school and a top-secret radar installation, the army manned the intern camps, and the Merchant Navy regularly docked at the Isle, situated in the middle of the Irish Sea.
It was all exciting information, but war had never interested Ethel; she wanted to place herself at the top of Manx society, and she couldn’t do that from a hospital, no matter how flash it was.
Then Captain Harrison gave her some information she found very interesting.
23
IVYDENE
Sitting behind Falcon Cliff were the more expensive areas of the capital. Some of the rich owners of the larger holiday homes dotted throughout the affluent suburbs had moved in permanently with the locals to escape the bombs falling on England. These, together with the upper members of Manx society, were who Ethel most dearly wanted to be seen with, but Falcon Cliff wasn’t working out as a suitable home at all to entertain in, with all those sick internees scattered around the place.
So when Captain Harrison told her that the army was relinquishing a stately, fully furnished home in nearby Little Switzerland, currently being used to accommodate camp guards, she had to have a look.
Ivydene was everything Ethel could have dreamed of. Sitting high on the cliff overlooking Douglas Bay and the sea towards England, with a pillared entrance, the two-storey residence was made from local red sandstone, with stained-glass leaded windows and Tudor-style half-timber work of solid oak, topped off with a red tile roof. Inside was even more impressive, with carved oak panelling adorning the walls, and a magnificent oak staircase leading to the upper rooms. The garden too was breathtaking. The property was perfect to impress and entertain in, and Ethel easily convinced Mr Livesey that they should rent it. She promptly employed a cook, a butler and a maid and set about inviting what she called the ‘cream of the Isle’ to her home.
Even though they weren’t married, she told everyone they were. Mr Livesey was negotiating a settlement package with his wife in exchange for the signed divorce papers, and then they’d fly back to a registry office in Liverpool to do the deed. In Ethel’s eyes, they were all but married.
The new Mr and Mrs Livesey invited local professionals, businessmen, the rich and their wives to Ivydene, and Ethel’s charm offensive went into overdrive. They held weekly bridge tournaments, extravagant dinner parties, garden parties and cocktail evenings as Ethel happily spent her and Mr Livesey’s money.
Feeling settled and secure as the new Mrs Livesey, she felt confident enough to write once again to her father Frank, who for years had tried unsuccessfully to get in touch with his daughter and grandsons in Australia. The last he had heard from her was as Mrs Anderson living in South Australia with her two young sons, and then they had all simply disappeared. Ethel wrote a long letter from her new home at Ivydene, explaining how she had met and married William Coradine, moved back to England as his health deteriorated, and decided to leave the boys at Geelong Grammar School where they were settled for their final years of schooling (the last bit, of course, being untrue). She explained she hadn’t had time to get in contact with her family since her return as she had nursed her husband through his debilitating illness. After his death, she met and married a Thomas Livesey, and was now living on the Isle of Man. She hoped her family was well and that they could see each other again soon.
The return letter was filled with a father’s love and concern. He was delighted she was well and living so close, compared to Australia, and hoped his grandsons were doing well. He had sad news: her eldest son Frank Carter had been killed in the ongoing war, her mother had passed away just months before, and he was in the process of selling their family home. He was finding it hard to maintain their home as he grew older, but had misgivings about investing his money into another smaller house or investment property, and was contemplating moving in with her younger sister Mabel and husband Lionel.
The news of her son’s and her mother’s deaths did not overly sadden Ethel, but she did miss her father. Perhaps he would like to join them on the Isle of Man, she suggested—escape from Manchester for a while?
Mr Livesey was not overly impressed with the thought of his future father-in-law staying with them, so organised with Kanie for Mr Swindells to stay at their hotel.
Ethel’s father arrived in March 1944 and moved in to the Howstrake Majestic, but when he had a mild stroke and became ill, Ethel insisted he be moved to Ivydene. Here she showed off her life to her father, who was impressed and pleased she was so happy and successful. Both she and Mr Livesey noticed that he had become a bit fuddled, and on Mr Livesey’s advice Ethel suggested to her father that Mr Livesey become his power of attorney, and manage his affairs and all the paperwork involved with selling his home and two other properties in Manchester. Mr Swindells agreed and signed everything over to his new son-in-law.
The only cloud in Ethel’s sunny sky was the fact that Thomas Livesey’s wife refused to give him a divorce and was threatening to take him for everything he owned. Mr Livesey and Mrs Coradine flew back to Liverpool and met his solicitor to see what could be done. Soon afterwards, Mr Henry Gelling, legal advocate on the Isle of Man, was engaged to help Ethel change her surname by deed poll. As a recent widow and with the information she supplied, he found no impediments to this, and on 6
June 1944, her name was officially changed to Florence Elizabeth Ethel Livesey. This was the first stage in their plan to protect Mr Livesey’s assets from his wife and children, and by the end of the month all of his assets—including five investment properties, £7500 (over $450,000) from his bank account, and his share portfolio—were transferred into Ethel’s name to keep them away from his threatening wife.
Thomas continued his business affairs through Ethel’s account, while the new Mrs Livesey set about developing a social circle among the rich and influential. She quickly spent up with the local storekeepers, refurbishing the already furnished Ivydene, and borrowing expensive glassware for her parties from the Kane family. She regularly flew to Liverpool and London to shop for the finest apparel, purchasing expensive jewellery from the Indian Diamond and Pearl Company, as well as the Liverpool jewellers Finnigans, and ordering the best food and wine she could obtain on the wartime black market for her parties. In less than six months she managed to spend more than £6000 (over $380,000).
At her many soirées, she revelled in telling her stories and nurturing new connections. She was especially delighted to meet one particular visitor to the island—a moviemaker from the Pinewood Studios. He lamented to Ethel the lack of funds in wartime England, and the fact that the British studios had been taken over by the War Office. With great excitement, a star-struck Ethel talked breathlessly with him about his latest film script idea, and at the end of the evening told him she had connections who she was certain would be able to arrange funding for the film.
In order to raise the funds, she and Mr Livesey agreed to sell one of her father’s investment properties in Cheshire, 72 Groves Lane, at a bargain price to the tenant. But as soon as the money hit their account, Ethel started spending it. Of course, she couldn’t help it!
Mr Livesey, meanwhile, was becoming disgruntled with their investment in Falcon Cliff—so it, too, was put back on the market.
The Amazing Mrs Livesey Page 10
