Too Close to the Sun

by Jess Foley

  ‘I would. I would show you everything; I would take you everywhere.’

  And stepping towards her he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her on the mouth. ‘Grace, Grace,’ he said, ‘I love you so much.’

  That Friday night Grace lay in her bed and thought back over all the things that had taken place over the week. How had so much happened in so short a time? That Kester Fairman should find that he loved her – it was a miracle. And a miracle too that she had found love in this man. How miraculous it was that two people, born far apart, should come together and discover that they had been meant for one another.

  On the Saturday Grace came into the house after posting a letter to Aunt Edie and was going through the hall when Jane came to her and said that Mrs Spencer had been asking for her. She was in the sewing room, the maid added. Grace went there at once and found Mrs Spencer sitting in her armchair with her sewing in her lap. On the small side table was a tray bearing tea things. Grace had not seen her for two days.

  ‘Ah, Grace, there you are.’ Mrs Spencer put aside her embroidery frame and indicated the seat of the chair facing her. ‘Come and sit down a minute.’

  Grace moved to her and sat down. In spite of the warm day there was a bright fire burning in the grate.

  ‘Would you like some tea?’ Mrs Spencer asked. ‘This will be cold, but we can get Jane to fetch a fresh pot.’

  ‘No, thank you, ma’am. I had some not long ago.’

  Mrs Spencer nodded acknowledgement. With a sigh she said, ‘It’s been so quiet here, with you away teaching little Sophie, and Mr Spencer off in Milan.’

  ‘Is he due back soon?’

  ‘This evening, I’m glad to say. I do wish he would give up the factory there, but he won’t hear of it. It makes so much travelling for him. He gets exhausted, and it tries his temper.’ She took in Grace’s light shawl. ‘Are you warm enough, my dear? The sun has been bright enough today but with such a keen wind there’s been little warmth in the air. I need this fire.’ She smiled at Grace. ‘Well, tell me how you’ve been, my dear. I haven’t seen you in two or three days. Is all going well with your teaching?’

  ‘Yes. There’s a little schoolroom now, which Mr Fairman has created. It’s very nice, and will do so well for Sophie until she goes away to school.’

  ‘Has Mr Fairman decided on a time for that?’

  ‘He mentioned September – when the new school year begins.’

  ‘And does he expect you to teach Sophie until that time?’ There was a slight note of concern in the tone.

  Grace said quickly: ‘No. He’s spoken of finding another governess for the meantime.’

  ‘It won’t be easy to hire one just for a matter of months.’ Mrs Spencer studied Grace for a second then said, ‘What about you?’

  ‘Me?’

  ‘Is Mr Fairman not tempted to offer the post to you?’

  ‘Oh – such a thing was not mentioned. I don’t think it would be.’

  ‘Why not? You are a governess, after all.’

  ‘I know, but – I suppose Mr Fairman acknowledges that I’m employed here, with you. He wouldn’t wish to – disturb your arrangements.’

  ‘Perhaps so. But as I say, you are a governess. And you’ll be looking for work as a governess. I assume you will, anyway. But one thing you will not be doing is staying here with me for ever, will you? You don’t see a long-term employment here, do you?’

  ‘Well, no …’

  ‘For your sake I hope not. I know you have Billy to care for, but, even so, you can think of better things than being stuck here for years on end. As much as I enjoy your company, Grace, I do realize that it will not be mine indefinitely. I know there must come a time when you’ll want to move on. And I invited you here with that knowledge. I never imagined for a moment that it would last any great length of time.’

  Grace said, ‘I have enjoyed my time here, Mrs Spencer. Very much so.’

  ‘Well, I’m glad to hear that, and I’ve enjoyed having you here. But there has to be more to your life than this, my dear. At the moment it’s a little more exciting and interesting for you while you’re teaching Mr Fairman’s girl, but that won’t go on, will it? She’ll either get a new governess or go to school – or both. And then it’ll be just you and me again. And I’m getting older, and you surely don’t look forward to spending your life as companion to some ageing, increasingly irascible old woman.’ She paused. ‘Besides, what about Billy? What are you going to do about his life?’

  Grace looked down at her hands. ‘I don’t know,’ she murmured. ‘He’s a clever boy, good with his grammar and creative things. I’d like to think that there’s something he could do when the time comes.’

  ‘Oh, no doubt about that. He is a very clever boy, and he’s a fine little artist too. Were he from a wealthy background, I can see him being sent off to study art, perhaps going to art school. But one has to be realistic. His prospects are limited.’

  ‘He should be able to get a job as a clerk when he leaves school. If he applies himself it shouldn’t be too difficult.’

  ‘Yes.’ Mrs Spencer nodded, ‘I can see that happening. But you’ve a little time yet. Two or three years at least. Though those years will fly past, you can believe it.’

  ‘Oh, I’m sure of that.’

  A little pause, then Mrs Spencer said, ‘What about you, Grace? What do you want out of life? Where do you see yourself going?’

  Grace did not answer.

  Mrs Spencer put her head a little on one side. ‘But some questions have to be faced. They need answers. One can’t get on by ignoring them.’

  ‘No, I realize that.’

  ‘You’re twenty-one years old. It seems so young in one way. But you should beware. Give it another three years or so and people will start to regard you as a spinster. Another two or three years on top of that …’ She spread her hands, palms out, ‘and practically all your chances will be gone. You wouldn’t want that to happen to you.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Get yourself in that situation and you lose all opportunity to choose. As the old saying has it: you can spend so long looking round the orchard that you end up picking up the crab apples.’ A momentary pause, then she added, looking off into the greenery, ‘I left it very late before I married. Oh, very late indeed, as you’ll probably know. But I was lucky in my husband. Not all women are lucky in such circumstances.’ She turned back to Grace. ‘Is there no one, Grace? No one at all?’

  Grace did not know how to respond and lowered her eyes to her hands again. And feeling Mrs Spencer’s gaze upon her, kept her glance lowered. And too long.

  ‘Well,’ said Mrs Spencer, ‘it looks as if I have my answer.’ A pause. ‘Do I?’

  Grace looked up now, but could not find words of response.

  Mrs Spencer gave a little nod. ‘I see that I do.’ She smiled. ‘And can you tell me any more about it – this – this interest of yours?’

  Grace said nothing, and Mrs Spencer tilted her head, peering in a quizzical way into Grace’s shadowed face. ‘Well, now, don’t tell me I’ve hit upon a secret, have I?’ Her tone was playful, teasing.

  Grace looked up and gave a little groan. ‘Oh, ma’am …’

  And seeing Grace’s grave expression, Mrs Spencer said, frowning slightly in concern and sympathy, ‘Oh, don’t take it amiss, what I say. I don’t mean to take it lightly at all. If you’ve met someone, found someone, then that is wonderful.’ Then she added, ‘Or rather, I hope it’s wonderful. Are your feelings – reciprocated?’

  Grace gave the very faintest nod, but made no sound. Hardly could she meet the other’s eyes.

  ‘That is excellent, Grace.’

  ‘Yes,’ Grace said, unable to suppress the smile of happiness that touched her mouth, ‘my whole life is changing, ma’am.’

  ‘I can see. I knew there was something different about you. I could tell.’ She sighed. ‘Oh, I do hope everything will work out well for you. Is there any reason it shouldn’t?’
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  Now Grace said, answering the question she had asked herself a hundred times: ‘No, I don’t think so. I don’t see why it shouldn’t.’ And knew such relief at hearing the answer on her own lips.

  Mrs Spencer gave a little chuckle, a sound touched with sympathy. ‘I’m very glad to hear that. Though you’re not being very forthcoming, I have to say.’ She pressed her lips together, and slightly narrowed her eyes. ‘I’m thinking,’ she said. ‘Or rather I’m trying to think. I’m trying to think who it could be. After all, you have so little opportunity to meet anyone. You’re either here, or you’re spending your hours with Sophie and –’ She came to a halt, and then gave a slow nod. ‘Of course. Of course. I should have realized right away. There is only one person it could be. Heavens, how slow I am.’

  Silence between them, and there came to Grace the ticking of the clock. It seemed strangely loud in the quiet.

  Mrs Spencer said, ‘Yes, indeed, how slow I am. And all this has been going on practically under my nose, and I wasn’t aware of it.’

  Grace looked at her at this, trying to read Mrs Spencer’s expression. Was there a flicker of a look of displeasure, of having been betrayed, something that said she had been used? But no, no such thing. The woman smiled. ‘And certain things become clear to me now,’ she said. ‘And make me wonder why Mr Fairman was so anxious for you to go to his home and help him sort out his bits and pieces. Could it possibly have been more for the pleasure of your company?’

  Grace could feel herself blushing. Mrs Spencer observed it and said, smiling again, ‘I don’t mean to tease you or embarrass you.’ She studied Grace for some seconds’ silence, then gave a little sigh and said, ‘Well, I do hope this is a good thing, Grace.’

  Grace felt a little rush of panic at the woman’s words. Why should it not be a good thing?

  Mrs Spencer went on, ‘Mr Fairman is a little older than you, though I don’t think that matters in the slightest. Nine or ten years, I should think. Though to my reckoning age differences are overrated. He also has a child, though that’s no problem either, for you’re well acquainted with his daughter and are fond of her. You are, I assume?’

  ‘Oh, yes,’ Grace breathed. ‘I am indeed.’

  ‘I thought so. By all accounts the child is so eager for her lessons with you, and that makes it clear enough.’ She gave a nod. ‘He’s a personable man, too, and a talented one. I’m sure you agree.’

  Grace nodded.

  ‘According to what I’ve heard, he’s designed some splendid buildings. Mostly in London, I believe, although I think he’s done work throughout the country. Have you seen any of his work?’

  ‘Only in pictures. There are some photographs I’ve seen. They’re very impressive.’

  ‘Oh, he’s a talented man, there’s no doubt. And attractive in so many ways.’

  A little silence. Mrs Spencer seemed to be thinking things through. Then she added, ‘Even so, I think you must be careful here.’

  ‘Be careful?’ Grace’s heart beat momentarily more strongly. ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘I wouldn’t want to see you hurt, Grace.’

  ‘Well, no, but …’ Grace let her words falter and fade.

  ‘I mean it. I would hate to see you hurt. This is a man who’s been married. A widower. He’s a man who’s been through a great deal of pain and anguish with the loss of a much loved wife. A wife who, clearly, he was very happy with. No new wife can be a replacement for what he’s lost.’ She added quickly, ‘I didn’t mean it to sound like that. I’m sure he would never see you as such – a replacement. I’m just saying that this is something a new wife could never be – no matter who she might be.’ She sighed. ‘To follow in the steps of someone so – loved – must be a very difficult task. Which is not to say you are not up to such a demand.’

  Grace heard herself saying, ‘I know so little about his wife. He doesn’t speak about her. He doesn’t want to, I’m sure. And I can’t press him.’

  ‘Of course he doesn’t want to speak about her. And one can’t blame him. I’d be surprised if he did.’

  ‘Sophie showed me a photograph. She looked to be a very beautiful young woman.’

  ‘So I understand. She was half-Italian, did you know that? My husband met her, but that was years ago, just before her death. Sophie was very small. Only about two years old, I believe.’

  ‘And that was about the time that Mrs Fairman died?’

  ‘That’s right. Mr Spencer met them on the way out to Italy, he told me. He was going out there on business connected with the soap factory, and met them on the train. The Fairmans were travelling to Naples, where Mr Fairman had secured a commission. It’s very sad. That would have been only weeks before his wife died.’

  Grace hesitated for a moment, then asked, ‘Do you know the circumstances of her death?’

  ‘I believe I told you that she died of cholera.’

  ‘Cholera, yes, I remember.’ Grace had read enough in the newspapers over the years to learn what a deadly and dreadful disease it was.

  ‘Such an awful disease,’ Mrs Spencer said. ‘There have been numerous outbreaks of it in southern Italy over the years, and apparently there was one touching Naples while the Fairmans were there. And sadly, tragically, Mrs Fairman contracted it. I believe by drinking from an infected glass. It’s carried in water.’ She shook her head. ‘It’s so tragic. That’s all it can take – something as simple as that – a drink from an infected glass. After her death Mr Fairman brought his daughter back home, to safety. Mrs Fairman, poor woman, would have been buried there, of course. Her body wouldn’t have been brought back – not with her having died from such a disease.’ She gave a little shudder. ‘That poor woman. I understand that death from cholera is a particularly horrific one. And so little Sophie is left without a mother.’

  Mrs Spencer turned to Grace, looked at her almost piercingly for a moment, and then reached out and laid her left hand on Grace’s wrist. ‘My dear, I think you could be the person that Mr Fairman needs.’ She paused for a moment. ‘Tell me, do you love him?’

  ‘Oh, yes, ma’am.’ Grace caught her breath as a little surge of excitement rose in her. ‘Oh, yes, ma’am, I love him.’

  The weather was exceptionally fine on Sunday and that afternoon Grace and Billy went out for a stroll together. They had returned and were walking through the stable yard when they came face to face with Mr Spencer. He had, Grace learned, returned the previous evening from Italy. Until this moment Grace had not seen him in several days.

  ‘Well, good afternoon, Miss Grace, Master Billy.’ He came from the stables and was wearing riding breeches and jacket.

  They returned his greeting, and Grace asked if he had enjoyed his ride.

  He nodded. ‘Oh, indeed, but hardly the thing after a good lunch. Mrs Sandiston always seems to excel herself when I get back from a trip away. I think she thinks I don’t get fed while I’m out of England.’ Then, turning to Billy: ‘Billy, would you be kind enough to excuse us for a moment? I’d like to have a private word with your sister …’

  ‘Of course, sir.’ Billy nodded quickly, and with a murmured word to Grace: ‘I’ll see you later on,’ moved to the rear door of the house and disappeared inside.

  Mr Spencer turned from watching Billy’s departure, and said to Grace, ‘Have you got a minute or two to spare?’

  ‘Yes, of course.’ She wondered what it was that was so sensitive it could not be said in front of Billy. ‘What is it, sir?’ she said.

  He regarded her gravely in silence for some moments, then with a shake of his head, said, ‘We can’t talk here. Let’s go inside, shall we? We’ll go up to the library.’

  He opened the back door and Grace passed through into the passage. After that he began to lead the way up the stairs to the first floor. And all the time Grace followed in his steps she asked herself what was the reason for it all. What could he possibly have to say to her that was such a seemingly grave matter? Was she, unknowingly, guilty of some e
rror that had caused displeasure in the house? The thoughts, the search for possibilities, ran through her mind, but she could settle on nothing that could give any likely answer.

  Reaching the library, he ushered her in and closed the door behind them. ‘Sit down, please, Grace.’ He gestured to a chair near the fireplace and she sat down.

  He remained standing before her for some moments then moved away to the window. Turning from her, looking down on to the forecourt, he said, ‘You’re still enjoying teaching Mr Fairman’s young daughter, I understand.’

  ‘Yes, sir, very much.’ His words had bordered on small talk. She continued in her bewilderment.

  ‘So my wife was telling me.’

  Grace waited. After a moment he turned back to face her and went on:

  ‘Grace – nothing of this is easy for me to say, please believe me. I hope you do.’

  When he finished speaking he looked at her as if expecting an answer. She merely said, frowning, ‘Yes, sir.’

  After a few moments of awkward silence he went on, ‘My wife also tells me that – oh dear, Grace, this is so difficult …’ He took a deep breath, then said, ‘My wife tells me that you have – formed an attachment – to Mr Fairman.’

  Grace drew a breath to speak, but before she could do so he added, ‘You may think it’s no business of mine, and in fact it is not, but for your sake I feel I have to speak.’

  Grace, remaining silent, became aware of the beating of her heart. Almost always she felt in his presence some lack of ease, but this feeling now was quite different; now alarm and panic touched her.

  He went on, ‘My wife tells me that when she learned of your – your affection for Mr Fairman she told you that she would not wish to see you hurt …’

  ‘Yes, sir, that’s correct …’

  ‘And nor would I wish such a thing.’

  ‘I am aware,’ Grace said now, ‘of the situation, sir. I am aware that Mr Fairman is a man who has been hurt, has suffered tragedy, and I don’t expect to replace his late wife, but I –’

  ‘That’s not what I meant,’ he said, interrupting her words. ‘What I want to do – though it gives me no pleasure – is to prepare you – if this is at all possible. Though there is no good way of breaking bad news. In the end, however the news is said, it still has to be said.’ He broke off here and looked at her with his eyes narrowed slightly, as if trying to read her responses in her expression.