Too Close to the Sun

by Jess Foley

  ‘I’m glad to hear it.’

  They smiled, relaxing a little, then he got up and moved to the window. Looking down onto the street, he said, ‘Sophie should be back any minute now.’ He turned to Grace. ‘I think she’s quite looking forward to meeting you.’

  ‘Well,’ Grace smiled, ‘and I’m looking forward to meeting her. Is she enjoying being in Corster?’

  ‘Oh, I believe so. Though I think she misses her little friends. Still, she’ll make new ones before too long. Of course everything is so new to her here. And being so close to all the fields and woodland and rolling downs – well, it’s quite wonderful. We’ve driven out to look at the surrounding countryside on two occasions and I think to her it’s like finding a different world. She’s only known London, of course. And then only one part of it.’

  ‘I’ve never been to London, though I can imagine that everything is so very different.’

  ‘Indeed, yes. We didn’t live in the centre, the West End, mind you – which is the part that all visitors see, of course. We lived in a residential area, in the borough of Kensington – which is less built up and much more attractive. It’s very pleasant with all its parks and squares and beautiful trees. And we were particularly fortunate in that our house backed on to private gardens where Sophie and her friends could play.’

  ‘You make it sound very attractive. I’d love to visit there. See some of the fine buildings, the great stores and the theatres and museums. There’s so much to see there, so much to do. I should think you and Sophie must find Corster a very unadventurous spot in comparison.’

  He gave a smile, slightly rueful. ‘Sometimes unadventurous is what is required.’

  ‘Well,’ she said, ‘let’s hope you and Sophie don’t get bored with the scene here.’

  ‘We shan’t do that, never fear.’ He turned his head, gazing off along the street below again. ‘We’re going to build a new life, Sophie and I. I owe her that. Of course at the moment we only have these rented rooms, but I think I’ve found a more permanent place for us. A very nice house I’ve been looking at in Upper Callow. I think it’ll be just fine – will suit us very well. You know the village, do you?’

  ‘It’s a most attractive place.’

  ‘The house I’ve looked at is close to the river. It’s really very nice. And if it doesn’t work out there will be other pleasant places. I’ve been looking at properties since we arrived. It hasn’t been easy to find something.’

  ‘What made you come to Corster when you left London? You could have gone anywhere you chose.’

  ‘Yes, we could. It’s because I visited here when I was young. It was the first place I ever saw outside of London. I came with my father when he travelled down on business one year.’ He gave a little shrug. ‘I suppose it made an impression on me. I mean, there’s nothing exceptional about it, but that’s what people do – they tend to go to the places they have some familiarity with – no matter how slight.’

  ‘Is this where you and Mr Spencer met and became friends?’

  ‘No, we met on the way to Italy. I and my wife and daughter were going out to Naples. He was travelling on business also. Oh, that was years ago. It was just a chance meeting but we became friends – the way it happens. The common factor was his coming from this area, and my having visited it. So, as I say, we became friends.’ He smiled at the thought. ‘Later we lost touch with one another – as happens. But then, coming down to Corster, I ran into him here in the town and found that he’s living nearby, not that far from where he was born.’ He gave a little nod. ‘It’s a small world indeed.’

  ‘What about your work? Mrs Spencer tells me you’re an architect.’

  ‘Yes, I am. And I love my work.’

  ‘Of course you’ll be able to do your work here just as well as in London, won’t you?’

  ‘Yes. As soon as I get a place where I can start work I can get organized.’

  As he finished speaking there came a sound from the outer door beyond the vestibule.

  ‘Ah,’ he said, turning towards the sound, ‘it’s Sophie and Nancy.’

  He moved towards the door and as he did so the far door opened and Grace saw coming towards her a small figure, a little girl in a burgundy coat and straw hat. Behind her came a young woman in her early twenties wearing a dark brown cape. The child came to a halt a few feet away, looked up at Grace and said, ‘Are you Miss Harper?’

  ‘I am indeed,’ Grace said. ‘And obviously you are Sophie.’

  ‘Yes, I’m Sophie,’ the girl said. She was slightly built, with her father’s dark hair and dark eyes, eyes that looked up at Grace with warmth and spirit. Then, turning to the girl beside her, she added, ‘And this is Nancy. We’ve been to the river, feeding the ducks.’

  With Grace introduced to the nursemaid, the young woman took off Sophie’s coat and left the room. Seconds later there came a knock at the door and the maid entered bearing a tray.

  ‘Ah, good,’ said Mr Fairman, ‘here comes our tea.’

  By the time tea was finished Grace had learned a great many things about her putative young pupil; not least among them that the child had a quick and alert mind and an obvious eagerness to learn. Over the tea and sandwiches and cakes they spoke of the different ways of London and the country market town that was Corster; and it was a conversation during which Grace felt she gained as much as she gave. It was also clear that notwithstanding the fact that the child had had no formal education, her father had not neglected her learning. When the subject of reading was brought up Sophie immediately – with permission from her father – got down from the table and fetched one of her books. Then, back in her seat she took pride in demonstrating her reading abilities. What was clear also was the affection between Sophie and her father. Grace lost count of the number of times the child made reference to him: ‘Papa says … Papa says …’ and also noted the father’s pride in his daughter’s achievements.

  When tea was done Mr Fairman suggested that Sophie take her afternoon nap and allow him a little more time to talk to the visitor.

  ‘I hope you’ll teach me,’ Sophie said after wishing Grace good afternoon. ‘Do you think you will?’

  Mr Fairman broke in here: ‘We mustn’t put Miss Harper under pressure, Sophie. She has to make her decision when she’s on her own and away from charming influences like you.’

  Sophie left them then to go to her room where the nurse awaited her, and Grace said she had better think about getting her train.

  In the vestibule Mr Fairman helped her on with her cape. ‘Let me say how much I’ve enjoyed your visit,’ he said. ‘And I know that Sophie has also. She’s not had a happy time of late, and it’s good to see her take to someone so.’ As Grace stood before the glass he looked past her head at her reflection. ‘So – now that you’ve met her,’ he added, ‘perhaps you’d give some thought to helping her with her lessons. I know she would like it – and I would be so glad.’

  Grace nodded, but did not meet his eyes in the glass.

  ‘But please bear in mind what I said earlier,’ he said. ‘I meant it, truly. If you don’t want to go through with it, then you must say so. I shall perfectly well understand, and I shan’t hold it against you. After all, I do realize that you’ve been somewhat – edged into the situation – without anyone meaning to do it, I hasten to add. But if you decide you don’t want to do it I shan’t mention it to Mrs Spencer. I’ll give her some other excuse. You won’t come off badly, I promise you.’

  ‘Oh, but Mr Fairman –’ she began, but before she could speak further he interrupted her.

  ‘Don’t give me your answer right now,’ he said. ‘Think about it first. That way I’ll be more certain it’s the true one.’ He smiled and stepped to the door. ‘Come – I’ll walk with you to the corner and we’ll find you a cab.’

  Back at Asterleigh, upstairs in her room, she looked at the letter she had started to her aunt. She read its contents through and eventually came to the part where she had spoken of
her possible employment as governess to Mr Fairman’s daughter: You can be sure that I shall do what I can to resist Mr Fairman’s offer.

  But she knew now that she would not.

  Carefully she tore the page across and again, until she was left holding only fragments.

  Chapter Ten

  ‘I’m so pleased you’re going to teach her.’

  Mrs Spencer was in the library on the first floor, directing her words to Grace who stood by the window. The woman had suggested that Grace use the room as a schoolroom for the time being. ‘We’ll make sure there’s a fire lit,’ Mrs Spencer said. ‘But if the room’s not suitable, let me know and we’ll find something else. But as I said, I doubt the teaching’s going to last that long, anyway. For as soon as Mr Fairman has settled his house, Sophie will be studying at home with a permanent governess or going off to school.’ She looked around her. ‘D’you think this will be all right? Will you have everything you need?’

  ‘Oh, it’s a wonderful room to teach in,’ Grace said. ‘And we shan’t need much. We have all the books we could possibly want – not to mention space and comfort. And Sophie will be bringing her own slate and chalks, she tells me.’ She looked at some spare sheets of paper that had been placed on one corner of the desk. ‘And Mr Spencer’s given us paper for writing and drawing. Oh, we shall be very well provided for.’

  ‘Good. I’m glad you’re pleased. And if Mr Spencer should wish to be busy in here, why then you could always use my sewing room.’ She moved over to where a card table had been folded and leaned against the side of a bookcase. ‘You could use this,’ she said. She pulled out the table, unfolded it and moved it into place, adjusting its position. ‘There – what do you think? Sophie will have her own little table.’

  ‘It’s ideal.’

  ‘What time is your pupil due to arrive?’

  Grace looked at the clock over the fireplace. It showed the hands at 9.40.

  ‘At ten o’clock.’

  ‘And what time is she leaving?’

  ‘I thought – two o’clock. That’ll give us a little break for some refreshment at midday. It’ll be a long enough day to start with. After all, she’s only seven – we can’t go on too long.’

  ‘Of course not. What are the precise arrangements you’ve made as to the teaching hours?’

  ‘Well, I suggested that I teach Sophie Mondays to Fridays from ten until two – except on those days when you would like me to work with you or accompany you out somewhere. And I thought that if something should come up unexpectedly – such as a decision to visit a gallery or something – we could send a note over the day before. Mr Fairman understands that I have my duties concerning my employment with you.’

  ‘What about lunch? Have you arranged things with Mrs Sandiston?’

  ‘Yes. She’s going to send up a tray for us. I hope that’s all right.’

  ‘Absolutely.’ She cast her eyes around the room. ‘I’m afraid it doesn’t look much like a classroom, does it? It would be so nice if we had a little blackboard, don’t you think?’

  Grace nodded enthusiastically. ‘Yes, but it’s really not necessary. We shall manage perfectly well.’ She pointed to the globe on its stand. ‘We’ve even got a globe for our geography.’

  Mrs Spencer smiled. ‘I shall be fascinated to hear how it all goes. You say she’s due to go at two – well, in that case come and have some dinner with me this evening, and tell me how it all went. It’ll be a very simple meal with Mr Spencer away from the house. And don’t get all dressed up. You know I don’t stand on ceremony – particularly when I’m here on my own. Come down at 7.15. I shall look forward to hearing all about your time with the child.’ She paused for a moment. ‘Just think – children in the house. We already have Billy here, and now there’s this little child. I never thought to see such a thing in my time.’

  Sophie arrived ten minutes early. Grace had expected her to be brought by hired cab, but she appeared with her father who came no further into the house than the hall. He and Grace hardly exchanged more than a few polite words of greeting, and then he was saying that he had appointments to keep and would be back for his daughter at two.

  ‘Now,’ he said to Grace, taking her to one side and keeping his voice low, ‘you’re absolutely certain about doing this?’

  ‘The teaching? Oh, of course.’

  ‘Good. I can’t tell you how pleased I was to receive your note telling me you’d be willing to give Sophie some lessons.’ He smiled, showing his even white teeth. ‘I mean, I know you were somewhat pressed to it.’

  Grace shook her head. ‘Please, Mr Fairman, I’m more than happy to do it. I’m looking forward to it.’ She turned and looked over at Sophie where she sat on the stairs, head back, looking up at the circular rail, the figures in the niches and the cupola high above. ‘I hope Sophie is too. So don’t worry about it. We have our lessons to get on with, and you have your appointments to keep.’

  ‘Thank you. I shall be for ever grateful to you.’ He gave a little inclination of his head to her and moved across to his daughter. She got up as he approached and reached to him as he bent to her. ‘You’ll be my good girl, won’t you?’

  ‘I will, Papa.’

  He kissed her on the cheek, gave her another embrace, straightened and then moved to Grace’s side. Bending a little to her, he said, ‘We haven’t spoken about your fee, Miss Harper. We have to make some arrangement for that.’

  ‘No, really, sir,’ Grace said. ‘It isn’t a subject I wish to say much about, but let me just say that I already receive wages from Mrs Spencer, so no other fee is due to me.’

  He stood in silence for a second. ‘Are you sure about that?’ he said.

  ‘Absolutely, sir. And if I may say so, I would prefer it to be left at that.’

  ‘Very well.’ He nodded, twice, then waved his hand in a salute to Sophie, turned and left the house.

  ‘Well,’ Grace said, turning to the child, ‘now it’s just you and me, Sophie.’

  Sophie nodded her head, her shoulders nodding also. ‘Yes,’ she said absently, still looking upwards. Then before Grace could say anything further she added, ‘I’ve never been in a house so big.’

  ‘It is large, isn’t it?’

  Still concentrating on the sights around her, Sophie said, ‘Is this where you live, miss?’

  ‘Yes – for the time being.’

  ‘Won’t you live here always?’

  ‘Well – no. At some time my brother and I – we’ll have to move on and find another home for ourselves.’

  ‘If it were my house I’d want to live in it for ever.’

  The girl continued to look in awe about her for a moment or two longer then turned and looked at Grace. ‘We must begin our lessons, mustn’t we?’

  ‘We must indeed. Come – let me show you upstairs to the library.’

  A minute or two after they had entered the library and Sophie had taken off her hat and cape, Mrs Spencer came and tapped on the slightly open door and stepped inside the room. ‘I just came,’ she said, ‘to welcome our guest and see that everything is all right.’

  Grace made the introductions and the child gave a little curtsey while looking up at the woman and shyly biting her lower lip. A few moments of light chatter and Mrs Spencer said she would leave them to get on with the lesson, and made her departure.

  On their own again, Grace and Sophie talked together. Grace already knew that the girl was bright and alert, and the further conversation between them only served to endorse such a view. Sophie had brought two of her own storybooks with her, and after she had read aloud from some of the familiar pages, Grace got that day’s copy of the Morning Post. Choosing an anodyne item from it, she had the child read it to her. At the end of the exercise she gave a nod of satisfaction: teaching the little girl was going to be an enjoyable business.

  After the pair had spent upwards of an hour with reading and vocabulary, Grace turned the subject to English history. In this also the girl cont
inued to prove herself a willing and earnest pupil. Grace decided that she must make a visit to a Corster bookshop at the first opportunity and find some suitable primers for the child.

  Sophie did a little drawing towards the end of the morning, using her pencils and crayons to make a picture of the baby Moses in his little nest of bullrushes. And then, at noon, they put on their capes and hats and walked out into the gardens at the rear of the house, first through the part where the gardens were neat and carefully tended and then on into the park, a wider area which had been allowed to grow wild, and nature had control. There was a small copse in one part and as they wandered through it Grace took pleasure in pointing out some of the many items of interest, the different plants and the great variety of wildlife. To Sophie, who had known only London’s gardens and public parks, it was like walking in a new world. Back in the house they found that a tray had been left for them in the library, and soon they were eating soup followed by bread and ham with pickles and glasses of milk.

  As they sat eating, facing one another across the card table, Grace said, ‘Well, Miss Sophie Fairman, and what do you think of it all so far?’

  The girl looked at Grace over the rim of her milk glass. ‘Do you mean my lessons, miss?’

  ‘Yes, your lessons and – well, everything. Everything is new to you today, isn’t it?’

  The child’s upper lip was lightly glazed with milk, and she put down her glass and dabbed at her mouth with her napkin. Giving a nod of agreement she gazed around the room. ‘Everything.’

  ‘And do you think you’ll want to come back for more lessons?’

  ‘Oh, yes.’ A vigorous nod here, and for a moment a fleeting look of uncertainty as if the thought had suddenly occurred that the lessons might end, and end too soon. ‘Oh, yes, indeed I shall. And please, you must tell Papa that I do.’

  Grace could see that it was important to the child, and found herself wondering at the girl’s life; after all, here she was, living in an unfamiliar place, far away from her old friends, while her father, her only relative, was preoccupied with the business of trying to forge a new life for them. And what, Grace found herself silently asking, could be the reason for a man to uproot himself and his child and come to live in a strange place?