by Jess Foley
Grace wondered where all this might be leading, but she had no choice other than to be patient.
‘I’ve lost track of what I was saying,’ Mrs Spencer said, putting a finger to her chin. ‘Oh, yes,’ and she nodded, ‘ – so as I say, I was never used to living in the country. And I find now, after living here upwards of five years, that it doesn’t get easier.’ She paused, looking at Grace appraisingly, as if finally making up her mind, then added, ‘As I said, my husband has told me of your situation following the sad death of your father. And this is the reason I’ve asked you to come here and see me today. Do you paint and draw, by any chance?’
‘Always, ever since I was a child. My brother too. Billy is a better draughtsman than I. He has so much talent. I haven’t painted much of late. There just hasn’t been the time. Also, to be honest, oil paints cost money, and there isn’t always money to spare for such things.’
Mrs Spencer gave a nod of understanding. ‘My painting is very important to me, as you might have gathered. And I would like to get out more and paint in the open air. Oh, I arrange my still lifes from fruit and vegetables and flowers and pots and such in my little studio, but sometimes I would love to just drive out with my easel and my paints and find a nice spot with some lovely view that’s just asking to be painted. I go out into the grounds of the house sometimes with my materials, but I’d like at times to go further afield. Unfortunately, though, I can’t. Or rather I wouldn’t feel comfortable going on my own. My husband is far too busy with his business to think of keeping me company on such an excursion – and indeed I would never dream of asking him to. He’d be bored to distraction within five minutes and be desperate to get going again. And it wouldn’t be any good just having a maid along. No, what I need is a companion for such excursions. And ideally a companion who would share some of my enthusiasm and enjoy sharing the experience. And for exhibitions too. I would love at times to go to the museums and look at the works of art on display, but one needs company at such times. One needs to have someone to talk to about the works. Do you see what I mean?’
‘Oh, I do indeed,’ Grace said. ‘A visit to an art gallery is always so much better when it’s shared.’
‘Quite.’ Mrs Spencer nodded and sat looking at her with a slightly quizzical expression on her face. ‘Do you play chess?’ she asked.
‘Yes. My father and I used to play quite frequently.’ Grace smiled. ‘I think we were quite evenly matched.’
‘So –’ said Mrs Spencer, and then came to a halt. After a second or two she gave a little nod and said, ‘Well, what I’m coming to is to ask you – I wonder if you would care to come here to Asterleigh in the capacity of companion to me – and general assistant. Apart from coming with me when I go off on outdoor painting jaunts and such, I need a person who can generally give me a helping hand. I have no doubt that you could be that person.’
Grace looked at the woman, hardly able to believe what she had just heard. For all her wondering as to the purpose of the invitation, nothing had prepared her for such an offer.
‘Of course,’ Mrs Spencer said, ‘we would work out precisely what your responsibilities would be. And apart from your wages you would have your room and board.’
Grace said, ‘But I have to think of my brother, ma’am. I have to think of him first.’
‘Indeed, and of course I understand that. And I haven’t forgotten him. I’ve given thought to that matter also.’ She gave a little sigh here, and for a moment cast her eyes down. Then, looking back at Grace, she said, ‘I fear I was a little hard on you both when you were here before. I’ve tended to become rather isolated. And I’ve discovered something – that the less one’s ways get challenged the more one tends to get set in one’s ways. Perhaps also I don’t spend enough time in the company of young people. Anyway, to the matter of your young brother. Billy, isn’t it?’
‘Billy, yes.’
‘Billy. Well, we have so many rooms in this house, and so many of them are unused and shut up. It will be the easiest matter to find a small room for him. And there is, I’m given to understand, a fine little school in Culvercombe. Also, if he wanted to make himself useful, Mrs Sandiston or Mr Johnson could no doubt find him some odd jobs to do. Either in the kitchen or about the house or in the stables. Or Mr Clutter could probably do with some help in the gardens.’ She came briefly to a stop, and here smiled for the first time, showing her small teeth, a smile that transformed her face. ‘But think about it,’ she said. ‘I don’t want an answer right this minute. What I would like to do, however, is talk to your brother.’ She paused. ‘When you go out, please ask him to come in and see me, will you?’ She got up from the sofa, moved to the bell pull beside the fireplace and gave it a tug. ‘In the meantime, perhaps you’d like to see something of the house. Would you like to see the conservatory? There are wonderful plants there. I’ll get someone to show you into it. You’ll find it interesting, I have no doubt. I’ll send your brother to find you when we’re through talking.’
Grace went out of the room then, and spoke to Billy, and a moment later he was knocking at the door and being invited in. Grace, watching him go, saw his nervousness, his uncertainty.
Left alone on the landing, Grace stood thinking over what Mrs Spencer had said to her. A place was being offered to Billy too. It was almost unbelievable. And why should she not accept it …? It was a position that she was eminently capable of filling, and it could be the answer to their present plight.
She had no more time to think upon it then for the housemaid appeared, knocked on the door and went into the room. A moment or two later she was back out and saying to Grace, ‘The mistress says I’m to show you to the conservatory, miss. Will you come this way …?’
Grace followed the maid through a long hallway along the rear of the house with doors opening off at intervals, and one side, the south side, looking out over the landscaped gardens with their colourful lawns and flowerbeds, and green paddocks on the flanks. And then they were entering a large, glass-walled conservatory full of lush and exotic plants and flowers. Towards the centre of the rear wall a little arbour had been created in the midst of the foliage, and here were placed wicker chairs and a table.
‘If you’d care to sit down, miss,’ the maid said, ‘I’m to offer you some tea or other refreshments – if you’d like.’
‘Thank you,’ Grace said, ‘but we shall be leaving soon.’
When the maid had gone, Grace looked around her. It was warm in the great glass room, and the light seemed odd, coming through the panes and being filtered by the leaves and blossoms of the great number of plants. And the plants themselves looked very curious; she was sure she had never seen any of them before in her life. And it was not only their appearance, but the smell of them also; strong and pervasive, it seemed to hang in the room like a curtain. There was also the sound of birds chirping, and leaning forward and looking to her left she saw there was a birdcage amid the greenery, with three small exotic-looking birds inside it.
Getting up from her chair, Grace moved to the birdcage and looked inside. The birds were tiny, with vividly coloured wings. The creatures were obviously not from Britain’s shores.
‘So, what do you think of them?’
The voice came from behind her, and she knew the owner of it before she turned and saw him standing there.
‘Oh – hello, Mr Spencer.’
‘Miss Grace.’ He nodded, smiling a greeting, then gestured to the birdcage. ‘They’re from Africa. Lovely, aren’t they? Such pretty little creatures.’
‘Well – y-e-s.’
He smiled, frowning. ‘You don’t sound too sure.’
‘Well, they are pretty, no doubt. But I also think they’re rather sad.’
‘Sad? But they’re so bright, so colourful.’
‘I know. But I can’t help thinking of how they would be in some tropical forest. They should have so much space to fly in. A whole world of space, not just one small cage.’
‘Yes,�
�� he said, ‘you’re right, of course. They were a present to my wife from someone coming back from Africa. What can you do?’ He shrugged. ‘You can’t let them loose into the wild. In our climate they’d die of cold on the first chilly day.’
‘I suppose they would, poor things.’
‘Anyway,’ he said, ‘I think they’re as comfortable as is possible, considering the circumstances.’ He raised a hand, taking in the rest of the conservatory. ‘Have you looked around? Seen some of the various plants and flowers?’
‘They’re wonderful. I never knew so many different kinds existed.’
‘They’re my wife’s. She’s had them brought from so many far-flung places – all round the world. One of her passions. And I’ve picked up a little of it from her.’ He reached out, his hand briefly touching a broad, fleshy leaf, then said, ‘Have you travelled at all?’
‘To other countries, you mean? No. I’ve never been outside England. You have, I should imagine?’
‘To several places – Brazil, the West Indies, America, Europe.’
‘And you came back to settle in Berron Wick.’
An ironic smile. ‘Oh, there’s no place like home.’ A thought occurred to him, and he added, ‘Where’s your brother? My wife said he was coming with you.’
‘He’s with Mrs Spencer now. She wanted to see him alone.’
‘I told her about your situation – as you will have gathered.’
‘Yes, so I understand.’
‘Yes, I told her and between us we came up with an answer. And let’s hope it’s the right answer.’
Grace did not know how to respond. She was grateful for the offer Mrs Spencer had made, and it sounded excellent – but she needed time to think about it.
Mr Spencer was looking at her closely in the strange light, his head tipped a little to one side. ‘I think perhaps,’ he said, ‘this is all happening a little too quickly for you, is that so?’
‘Everything is happening too quickly right now,’ Grace said. ‘I can’t keep up with the changes. Billy and I, we don’t know where we are.’
‘Have there been any further developments in your situation regarding the house?’
‘I’ve accepted the offer from the house-clearance dealer you sent.’
‘Though it probably wasn’t much, right?’
‘No, it wasn’t very much. But it’s the best I can expect – under the circumstances. And I thank you for it, for your help.’
‘Please – it was nothing.’
‘I’m very grateful.’
A little pause, then Mr Spencer said, ‘Come, let me show you some more of the sights we have in here.’
He turned, and Grace stepped beside him and they began to walk through the conservatory. As they went, he pointed out plants of special interest, some because of their appearance, some for their smell, and others for the particular ways in which they functioned. A few of them, as he remarked, were carnivorous, while others carried deadly poisons, either in their seeds or in the sap from their leaves and stems. One in particular, he pointed out, had seeds that were especially deadly, and Grace stood and looked at the tall plant with awe. At another plant she stooped to take in the scent of a flower like a large pale yellow lily, but quickly Mr Spencer stepped forward and put a hand on her arm. ‘Don’t go too close,’ he said. ‘It bites.’
‘Bites?’ Grace said as she straightened.
‘Not literally, but if you allow the leaves to touch your skin it can leave a very nasty sore weal behind – and one that will drive you crazy with itching.’
‘Why do you have such plants here?’ Grace asked, taking a step away.
He paused and smiled, shrugged. ‘That is an excellent question, indeed. I suppose part of it is the challenge. It’s no small feat, surely, to be able to grow in an English house a plant that by rights should only be growing in the middle of a jungle.’
They were standing so close, facing one another, and Grace was aware of the lingering feel of the brief touch of his hand upon her arm.
‘I do hope you’ll accept my wife’s offer,’ he said. ‘I’m sure you could be happy here. Certainly we’d do our best to make sure that you were. That goes for your brother too, of course.’
‘I’m so grateful for the kind offer,’ Grace said. And she asked herself why she did not at once say, ‘Yes, I will accept it’, and realized that it had to do with Mr Spencer himself. It was not any specific thing he had said; he just seemed too – fond, too solicitous. When he had touched her his hands stayed a fraction of a second too long, and when their eyes met she always had to look away first. Perhaps she was being foolish and oversensitive, but these things – as lacking in substance as they were – whispered to her of some possible danger.
‘Billy and I, we must talk it over,’ she said. ‘And I’m settled for now with a place for us to stay. But as I say, I must think about it. Please don’t think me ungrateful, will you?’
‘I would never think of you as ungrateful.’
They had reached the end of the conservatory.
‘I think you’ve seen enough of this for today,’ he said. ‘Let’s get out of here. Some of the scents can get a bit overpowering. Would you like to see something else of the house?’
‘I’d like to,’ Grace said politely, ‘but right now I have to wait for Billy. Mrs Spencer’s sending him here.’
‘We can’t have him getting lost, then.’ He turned and side by side they walked back towards the main entrance. As they reached it Billy came into the room, saw Mr Spencer and came to a stop.
‘Hello, young William,’ Mr Spencer said, and Billy gave a grave nod and murmured, ‘Sir.’
‘So,’ Mr Spencer said to Billy, ‘did you have an interesting conversation with Mrs Spencer?’
Billy hesitated, then nodded. ‘Y-yes, sir.’
‘And what did you have to talk about?’
A pause. ‘Oh – l-lots of things. She asked me if I liked d-drawing.’
‘And what did you say?’
‘I said yes.’
‘Good.’ The man looked from one to the other for a moment, then said, ‘Well, I’ll leave you now. Rhind will see you safely back home.’
Grace thanked him. He held out his hand and Grace put out her own hand. He took it, briefly pressed it and wished her goodbye. A moment later he was walking away through the door and into the passage.
When Mr Spencer had gone from their sight, Grace said to Billy, ‘How did you find your way here?’
‘The maid showed me the way. And Mrs Spencer wants to see you again before we go. She told me to tell you.’
Together they moved out of the conservatory and back towards the main hall, where they stopped beside the drawing room door and Grace knocked upon it. A moment later, hearing Mrs Spencer’s voice from inside, she pushed open the door and went in.
Mrs Spencer was standing at the window, looking down onto the lawn and flowerbeds at the side. Grace came to a halt some feet away from her.
‘My brother said you wanted to see me, ma’am.’
‘Yes, just for a moment.’ Mrs Spencer turned and looked at the ornate clock on the mantel. ‘Then you must be getting back. Did you get time for some tea in the conservatory?’
‘I didn’t want any, ma’am, thank you.’
‘Very well. I just wanted to say that your brother and I have had a little talk. I sounded him out about living here, and he seems – not averse to the notion. But there, perhaps he was just being polite. However, be that as it may. What about you? Have you had time to think about the offer?’
Grace did not know how to respond. ‘I haven’t, ma’am, I’m sorry.’
‘No, well, that’s all right. I shouldn’t expect you to make a decision quite so quickly. But I’ll keep it open for, say, ten days, and you let me know within that time whether you wish to take it up. And let’s hope I haven’t changed my own mind during that time. It’s been known to happen.’
Still at a loss, Grace stood there, trying to think
of the right words. Then Mrs Spencer said, ‘I asked your young brother how his leg came to be like that. He told me he was injured in a fall. He said he fell from a stile.’
‘Yes, that’s right.’
‘How sad. And such an injury from a little incident like that. But he doesn’t appear to allow it to get him down.’
‘No, ma’am.’
Mrs Spencer gave a thoughtful little nod, then glanced again at the clock, and said:
‘Anyway, you go on out into the yard and Mr Rhind will drive you back home. I’ve already sent a message to him. He’ll be waiting for you.’
Grace took her leave of the woman and, promising to let her know her decision very soon, left the room.
Billy was sitting in the chair beside the door, and he got up and together he and Grace moved through the hall towards the rear of the house.
Outside in the yard they found Rhind waiting beside the pony and trap, and without a word and without making eye contact he helped them up into the vehicle. He spoke briefly, just saying, ‘Back to Green Shipton, yes?’ and Grace said, ‘Yes, thank you,’ and he swung himself up into the driver’s seat and the next moment they were moving away.
Grace and Billy barely spoke on the journey back home – their silence due mostly to the intimidating presence of the driver of the trap. He ignored them totally.
Then at last, after what seemed an age, the trap was pulling to a halt outside Bramble House and Rhind was turning in his seat and saying to Grace, only meeting her eyes for the briefest moment, ‘Will this do you, miss?’
‘Yes, it’s fine, thank you.’
With the man making no move to help her down, Grace gathered up her skirts and climbed down onto the road, Billy following. She turned then to Rhind, making one last effort: ‘Thank you – very much.’ And he gave a nod, with the faintest semblance of a smile touching his mouth. ‘Miss,’ he murmured, then looked ahead, touched his hat and flapped at the reins. A second later he was driving away.
‘Do you like that man?’ Billy asked as he and Grace stepped into the yard.
