That had been Vicky’s plan, to arrive and go straight to Barney. Now though, she did feel the need to catch her breath, as Lucy suggested. She wanted to see where Barney was laid to rest, and yet she wanted to pretend it had not happened, that somewhere, somehow, he was still alive. ‘You’re right,’ she told Lucy. ‘After that long journey, a few hours here or there don’t matter.’
‘Good! Then that’s settled.’
And the two women exchanged a deep look – of shared sorrow and an acknowledgment of the very special bond that united them.
‘It will be wonderful, to meet your Mary,’ Vicky told Lucy as they settled themselves into the comfortable back seat of the car. ‘Although, funnily enough, I’m nervous, too. You said in your letter that she lived with you. Is that still the case?’
Lucy nodded. ‘Not for much longer though. She and her fella, Ben Morris, are to be married soon. Mary’s had such bad luck with men in the past, but now it seems she’s found the right one.’ She waved her hand, as though to bring the conversation to a halt. ‘Now then, I hope you’re hungry. Our Elsie has really gone to town on our supper tonight.’
‘Who’s your Elsie?’ Vicky asked.
‘Elsie Langton is the wife of our local blacksmith. She lives in the village and comes to me every day,’ Lucy explained. ‘It’s too big a house for me to manage on my own these days and well, what with Mary’s flower-shop being so successful and all, we can just about afford dear Elsie. To be honest, we’d all be lost without her.’ Lucy knew she was gabbling on but Vicky seemed genuinely interested.
‘She takes care of the household things – cleaning and cooking and suchlike. She’s an almighty chatterbox, she’s even bossier than me, and at times she can be so infuriating you could happily strangle her,’ Lucy chuckled. ‘But she’s the salt of the earth, honest and hard-working, and totally reliable. She has a heart of gold and excels at everything she does.’
Vicky was impressed. ‘She sounds wonderful.’
‘Oh, she is! In fact, she’s an absolute treasure. You will just love her, I know you will.’
‘Does she look after the grounds as well?’ Vicky was beginning to wish she had such a paragon back home in Boston.
‘She would, if she could get her hands on them. But no, the grounds are Mary’s domain. She grows all of our flowers, fruit and veg, plants them herself, digs and hoes, and spends hours out there, weeding and working in all weathers. The lass sells most of it in her shop or at market, and there’s still enough left over for the local charities.’
Vicky was thrilled. ‘She really must take after her daddy, with such love for the land. Yes, I can tell that she must have green fingers, just like Barney, because even in this wretched weather, it’s easy to see how beautifully kept it all is here.’
They were pulling into the drive of Knudsden House by then.
Lucy was delighted by the compliment to her daughter. ‘Mary’s also got a couple of cows, which she milks by hand,’ she added proudly, ‘and a dozen hens that lay enough eggs to feed a whole congregation.’
‘So, your Elsie is never short of milk or eggs then?’
‘Not so’s you’d notice, no – though if she’s not complaining that she’s got too many, she’s moaning that she’s never got enough. You can’t please our Elsie no matter how hard you try.’
As it happened, the very person herself was waiting for them as Adam helped them out of the car.
‘You’ll be the old friend that Miss Lucy’s been going on about from morning to night,’ she said, rushing forward, the hand of friendship outstretched. ‘I’m Elsie, general dogsbody and hard done by. How d’yer do?’
Before Vicky could get a word in, Elsie was rushing on; ‘I expect that one’s already blackened me name, saying as how I’m a lazy good-for-nothing who can’t cook, can’t make a bed without leaving lumpy bits, and doesn’t know one end of a yard-broom from the other!’
‘Can’t keep quiet for a minute at a time, more like!’ Lucy laughed. ‘Behave yourself. Our guest is starving hungry and tired from the long journey, so be off and keep an eye on our dinner, please.’
Elsie tutted. ‘See how she treats me?’ she enquired of Vicky. ‘Bossing and bullying. Do this, do that.’ Rolling her eyes to the clouds, she went inside and locked herself in the kitchen.
Vicky laughed heartily. ‘You were right,’ she said. ‘She is an absolute treasure.’
Adam went on ahead of them. ‘I’ll put this suitcase in your room,’ he told Vicky, ‘then I’ll make myself scarce for an hour.’
‘You don’t have to,’ Vicky told him.
‘I think it might be best,’ he answered. Knowing how these two had a lot of catching up to do, he insisted, ‘I’ll see you both in an hour or so.’ And before they could argue, he was quickly gone.
As they walked into the hallway, Vicky looked around at the wood-panelled walls and long casement windows. ‘Oh Lucy, this is so lovely!’ she exclaimed. ‘So full of character. Is this where you and Barney lived together?’ There was a wonderfully warm, inviting atmosphere in this house, she thought.
‘We lived here, yes,’ Lucy replied thoughtfully, ‘for the short time we had. Poor Barney was in the last stages of his illness then. I sold the cottage that Mr Maitland kindly gave to me and … and Jamie – thanks to you and Barney – and we managed between us to buy this place, as it was very rundown and going cheap. Dear Adam has put his back into restoring it, over the past twenty years.’
‘And were you happy, the two of you?’
‘As much as we could be, under the circumstances.’ Lucy thought that a difficult question to answer.
Resentment rose in Vicky. ‘It must have been very hard for you both.’ But her voice sounded tight.
‘It was. But we lived one day at a time, and somehow we managed to find a deal of joy in every moment.’
Vicky’s thoughts were with Barney, and her heart ached. ‘I should have been here,’ she burst out. ‘I should have been with him!’
Unsure how to deal with the situation, Lucy spoke her mind. ‘I wouldn’t blame you if you felt bitter … about me and Barney, I mean.’
Vicky’s features hardened. ‘I am bitter,’ she replied hoarsely. ‘I’m angry because you didn’t think to bring me back earlier.’ Her voice rose in a cry of anguish. ‘You can have no idea of the heartache and regrets that haunted me … haunted all of us and still do!’ Turning away, she began pacing the floor. ‘And now when it’s all too late, I discover that Barney was ill when he sent us away – that he turned to you instead of keeping me by his side.’ Her eyes alive with suspicion, she swung round. ‘It makes me wonder how long the affair had been going on. Tell me, Lucy. Were you lovers right under my nose … all the time making a fool of me? Is that it? He had come to need you more than he needed me … even when he was dying?’ The last words came out as a howl.
Horrified, Lucy took a step forward. ‘No, Vicky, you’re wrong! It was never like that!’
As she reached out to touch her old friend, Vicky began sobbing, all the pent-up emotions let loose in a vehement tirade. ‘How can I believe you? You! A woman who took my husband to herself and bore him a child, when all the time none of us knew why he sent us away.’ She was almost screaming now. ‘You knew, though, and still you didn’t think fit to bring me back. I missed him so much … Oh dear God! My Barney, so desperately ill, and me so far away on the other side of the world!’
Burying her face in her hands, she sobbed like a child. And when Lucy reached out, this time she did not flinch. Instead she fell into Lucy’s arms and clung to her, until the sobbing eased and her pain was bearable.
Deeply saddened, Lucy continued to hold her. The tears ran freely down her own face and her heart was heavy with sadness.
Eventually, Vicky raised her head and whispered, ‘Oh Lucy, I was just hitting out … I didn’t mean it.’
Lucy nodded. ‘I know.’
Vicky took a deep breath. ‘It’s just that … oh, I have so many re
grets.’
After a time, when the two of them were seated and quiet, Lucy had a question. ‘Did you find at least some measure of contentment with Leonard?’
Vicky did not hesitate. ‘Yes, I did. But it was a strange contentment. It took a long time for me to regard him as anything other than a friend. Even then, it was as though there was something else, someone else, always there, between us.’
She looked away, her thoughts going deep. ‘Even when I was with Leonard, laughing, working, building a home for the children, Barney was always there. Leonard knew it and I knew it, but it was all right, because Barney had sent me away, and Leonard had taken me under his wing … taken all of us under his wing.’ She paused, her thoughts going back over the years she shared with Leonard.
‘We never had a child,’ she murmured softly. ‘I suppose it was never meant to be.’
Sensing a deeper sadness, Lucy gently reminded her, ‘Leonard was a good man and a good and loyal friend to Barney.’
‘I know that. But I still can’t forgive him for lying to me.’
‘It isn’t as if he lied outright,’ Lucy suggested lamely. ‘He just never told you.’
‘But don’t you see – it’s the same thing!’
Lucy hesitated. ‘Will you ever forgive him?’
Vicky shook her head. ‘Never! I will never forgive or forget, until the day that I die.’
And Lucy bowed her head in shame for her part in Barney’s secret sacrifice.
Chapter 15
WHEN LUCY HAD shown her up to her room, Vicky rested a while, then washed and changed, ready for dinner. Somewhere in Knudsden House, a grandfather clock was striking eight. ‘Got to make a good impression,’ Vicky said to herself, and she did a slow, dignified twirl in front of the bedroom mirror.
The cream-coloured dress she had brought with her from Boston was well-suited to her slim, upright figure. You don’t look too bad for your age, my girl, she thought approvingly. Leaning forward, she wiped the tip of her finger along her lips, evenly spreading more of the light-coloured French lipstick that brought out the colour of her slate-grey eyes. Her hair was swept back and kept in place by a sparkling diamanté clip in the shape of a curled leaf.
Vicky knew how to dress for dinner. It was one of the social niceties that were part and parcel of her marriage to Leonard. Whereas her life with Barney had been simple and easy, her position in Boston as the wife of a land baron moved her in different circles. Her values and principles had never changed, though. Forging a strong family bond and being there when needed had always been her priorities.
Down the landing, Lucy was beginning to panic. Her hair wouldn’t go where it was supposed to, and the shoulder-strap on her dress had just snapped as she slipped it over her head. ‘Damn and bugger it!’ she cursed.
Slinging the dress over the back of a chair, she stood a moment, contemplating what to do. She could wear the white dress, but that didn’t seem appropriate somehow, or she could simply put on her brown skirt and blue top … no, she couldn’t turn up for dinner looking like a school-marm!
Flinging open the wardrobe door, she flicked through the many garments hanging there. ‘Why is it I can never do anything right?’ she hissed aloud. ‘It’s nerves,’ she decided. ‘It’s all too much in one day and now I’ve got an attack of the heeby-jeebies.’
Finally, she settled on the emerald-green dress, the one with little puff sleeves and a pretty lace neckline. When she slithered into it now, she felt just right; the waist sat snugly and the skirt flounced just the teeniest bit. ‘Not too frumpy, not too sassy,’ she said, sliding her feet into a pair of black slip-on shoes. There was a gas fire in her bedroom, and a good coal one in the sitting room, but all the same she arranged a mohair stole around her shoulders to keep out the draughts.
With the shoes on and the dress in place, she almost tumbled over while attempting to check that the seams on her stockings were straight; next she brushed her hair and rolled it into a halo round her head, while teasing out just the tiniest curl here and there. A touch of rouge and just the smallest brush of mascara and she was ready to face the world. ‘Now, if your bones don’t ache too much, and you don’t fall asleep at nine o’clock, you’ll be all right.’ Twice she had done that and never been allowed to forget it.
But that was when she had first come out of hospital so that didn’t count, or so she told herself. It wasn’t old age creeping up fast. It was the after-effects of lying about in a hospital bed. Well, anyway that’s what she made herself believe.
At ten minutes past eight she made her way downstairs. Five minutes later, Vicky followed.
As women do, they admired each other’s choice of dress, and compliments flew in all directions, all genuine and all accepted graciously. ‘Is Mary here?’ Vicky was on tenterhooks.
‘I’m sure she’ll be down in a minute,’ Lucy replied. ‘According to Elsie, she didn’t get back from the sale until an hour ago, though I think she stayed at Ben’s a while before she made her way back. She’s a considerate young woman. She so wants to meet you, but I know she was thinking to give us more time together.’
Having poured two sherries, Lucy handed one to Vicky. ‘She’s a wonderful daughter.’
Vicky thanked her for the drink and after taking a sip she asked, ‘How long has she known, about me and the family?’
‘Not long. A couple of years.’
‘So, Mary was kept in the dark too, was she?’
‘I’m afraid so.’
‘And how did she take it, knowing that she had a whole new family?’
‘She welcomed it.’
‘Was she bitter, that she had not been told earlier?’
‘No. She understood my reasoning. As a matter of fact, it wasn’t me who told her. I was ill in bed at the time. It was Adam who decided the time was right to put her in the picture.’
‘Adam?’ Vicky was surprised. ‘Why would he do that?’
‘Because he’s always believed that she should be told, and as he’s been with us since before Mary was born, he’s almost like family. He remained Barney’s best friend right up to the very end. He came with us to this part of the world. He helped me nurse Barney, and from as far back as she can remember, Mary has loved him like a second father.’
Vicky smiled. ‘Adam was always a good man.’
Lucy wholeheartedly agreed. ‘And in case you’re wondering, there was never anything between us, but he was always there, always helpful and caring, taking responsibility for us. He never forgot you, or the children. In fact, it was Adam who persuaded me to contact you.’
She paused. ‘I can understand why Leonard didn’t tell you. It was such a hard thing for me to do, breaking my word to Barney, and even now, with you and Leonard split up, I’m not sure I did the right thing.’
Vicky disagreed. ‘It was the right thing,’ she declared. ‘I’m here now, and I shall make my peace with Barney – and I can never thank you enough for that.’
‘What about the children?’ Lucy thought it strange that Vicky had made little mention of Tom, Ronnie and Susie.
Vicky shrugged. ‘That’s another story,’ she muttered, and for now at least, no more was said on the subject.
At half past eight, Mary came downstairs to meet the long-awaited visitor.
Vicky caught sight of her as she came round the bend in the staircase, and her heart leaped as she looked up to see Barney’s daughter; with her easy walk and smiling blue eyes, she was the very essence of her father.
And now as she spoke, even the voice had a resonance of Barney. ‘Hello, I’m Mary,’ she said softly.
Vicky was momentarily lost for words. She looked at this homely, pretty creature, and all she could see was her late husband. With her bobbed fair hair and those lavender-coloured eyes, the resemblance to Barney had shaken Vicky to the core.
Holding out her arms, she invited the girl into an embrace. ‘You’ve no idea how good it is to meet you,’ she said, holding Mary at arm’s length and gaz
ing into those familiar, smiling eyes. ‘You have such a look of your father,’ she said, ‘and you’re so like my Susie, it’s uncanny.’
Mary told her that she, Vicky, was exactly as she had imagined, and that she, too, was glad that they had met at long last.
It was a warm, satisfying exchange and, as they made their way into the dining room, Vicky felt more at peace than she had done for a very long time.
‘Oh, so you’ve decided to show your faces at the table, have you?’ Elsie came out of the kitchen like a hurricane. ‘There’s me slaving away in that kitchen, while you lot drink the sherry and chat the chat. Well, you’re here now, thank goodness, so I’ll away and bring in the first course.’
‘Not so fast, Elsie, my girl!’ Lucy called her back. ‘Are you hinting that it’s all too much for you? Because if you are, I’ll start the girl from the village on Monday morning. I’ve checked her credentials and she has excellent references. She appears to be a hard worker and an honest soul, and if you’ll only give her a chance, I’m sure she’ll be a godsend to you.’
Elsie was horrified. ‘I never asked for no girl. Don’t want her, don’t need her.’
‘I happen to think you do. You’re not as young as you used to be. You need someone to fetch and carry. Even Charlie agrees with me.’
‘Well, he’s wrong, and if yer don’t mind me saying, so are you. I don’t want no slip of a girl in my kitchen.’
‘Look, Elsie, you’re on edge all the time, losing your temper at the drop of a hat, and you never stop work from morning till night. You’ve a home of your own and a husband who wants your company from time to time.’
The little woman gave a hearty guffaw. ‘I’ve a husband who sits on his backside in front of the fire every night, and spends his days looking up the horses’ rear ends. He hardly notices me unless it’s to have a grumble. If I talk, he grunts from behind the newspaper, and as for a sensible conversation, I might as well go down the park and talk to the ducks. Like as not I’d get more response out of ’em.’
Journey's End Page 16
