Too Close to the Sun

by Jess Foley

  ‘Well, there you are – you might have to take him out of his school and send him off to a different one where everything and everyone will be strange to him. Is that what you want?’

  Grace said, ‘No, but if there’s no way around such an arrangement …’

  ‘What if there is? Why on earth can’t you stay here. You have clean rooms, good food, you have –’

  Grace broke in: ‘Sir, you don’t need to remind me of all the good things and the advantages at Asterleigh. But we can’t stay, we simply can’t. Not while I’m working somewhere else.’

  ‘I should have realized, of course. You’ve got your pride, haven’t you? You’ve always had your pride.’

  Grace said nothing.

  ‘Well, I’ll tell you what,’ he said, ‘and don’t give me an answer right away. But think about it and then let me know your conclusion. Supposing – supposing you pay me rent? How would that be?’

  ‘Rent, sir?’

  ‘Rent. You’ve heard of rent – payment for the use of property. Say a shilling a week? How would that be?’

  When Grace said nothing, he added, ‘And if Billy cares to, he can continue helping out as he does now.’

  ‘And that would –’

  ‘That would allow you and Billy to remain here, and keep your pride as well.’ He paused. ‘And if you wonder why I’m suggesting such a thing, it’s because, for one thing, you cared for my wife in her illness. Indeed, you cared for her throughout the time you were here. I know that much. Also, I can’t bear the thought of you both going into some squalid lodgings as you did before you came here. And besides which, having you stay here – it’s what Eleanor would have wanted. It’s what she would have done. She would want an arrangement like this. Except that she wouldn’t allow you to pay rent. But I’m quite sure that if I don’t agree to such an arrangement as that then I can’t see you accepting.’

  Grace frowned, opened her mouth to speak again, but he cut in. ‘Don’t give me a negative answer now,’ he said. ‘Save your answer for later, once you’ve had a chance to think it over. But think about it carefully. If you have sense – which I don’t doubt you have – you’ll agree it’s the best thing for both of you.’

  Upstairs, she went to Billy’s room. Finding it empty, she left a note for him and went to her own room along the landing.

  He came to her a little under an hour later, freshly washed and changed from his work in the yard.

  ‘I’ve been to see Mr Spencer,’ Grace said to him. He sat on a small footstool near the bed. ‘I told him that I’ve been offered a position in Little Berron.’

  Billy hung his head. ‘I’ve been thinking,’ he said. ‘I can still go to school in Culvercombe if we live in Little Berron.’

  ‘But it’s miles. Besides, we might not find rooms in Little Berron. It might be further out.’

  ‘I shall manage.’

  She hesitated for a moment, then said, ‘Well – anyway – it might not be necessary.’

  ‘What d’you mean?’

  ‘I just told you that I went to see Mr Spencer, and – he told me that we might stay.’

  ‘We can stay? He said so?’

  ‘He’s suggested an arrangement whereby I pay him rent. That way we wouldn’t be accepting his charity.’

  Billy waited a moment then said, ‘What did you tell him?’

  ‘I haven’t told him anything yet. He didn’t want my answer right away. He asked me to think about it. So –’ she shrugged, ‘I thought we’d best talk it over before I give him an answer.’

  ‘What do you think, Grace? Please say yes. Tell him yes, will you?’

  ‘I know that’s what you’d like.’

  ‘It would be so much better. We could keep our nice rooms, and there wouldn’t be any question of my changing schools.’

  ‘He said if we stay you could continue to help out around the stables and in the gardens. How does that sound?’

  ‘Does that mean we can stay?’ he said.

  She smiled. ‘If you want it so much.’

  Later that day Grace went to see Mr Spencer, and told him that she was pleased to accept his offer of continuing accommodation for herself and Billy.

  ‘What a wise decision,’ he said.

  In the second week of December Grace received a Christmas greeting card addressed in a child’s round, careful handwriting. There was no return address on the card or the envelope. The card bore a picture of robins and holly, with snow falling against a frosty window. The message said:

  Dear Miss Harper,

  I am writing to wish you and Billy a very merry Christmas and happy new year. Papa and I are well, and hope you are too. I am going to school now, here in Redbury, and I quite like it, though I wish you were still my teacher. With love and best wishes from

  Sophie

  ps: I hope you still remember me.

  Oh, Sophie, Grace silently cried as she pressed the card to her heart – how could I forget you?

  In spite of the lingering sadness over Mrs Spencer’s death and the ending of Grace’s association with Kester Fairman, she looked upon that Christmas at Asterleigh as a relatively happy affair. With the matter of their living quarters decided, at least for the time being, she could see Billy relaxing in the knowledge that he need have no worry about having to move on. Even so, Grace still harboured some vague feelings of uncertainty. A part of her mind still placed so much value on her independence, and she sometimes told herself that perhaps it would have been better had she obeyed her instincts and found furnished rooms for herself and her brother. That way she would maintain her independence and be beholden to no one. But she had made the decision to remain where they were, and for Billy’s sake if for nothing else for the time being the decision would stand.

  In January Grace began her work teaching Mr Kellas’s children.

  The Kellas family lived in an attractive, rambling red brick house on the edge of Little Berron, with views over woodland and the distant ford. Mr Kellas was a serious man with a grave demeanour – essential to him in his work, Grace assumed – while his wife was jolly and outgoing. While Mr Kellas was ordered, neat and meticulous, Mrs Kellas was carefree and casual. To Grace the house seemed always to be in disorder; no matter how much the maid swept and tidied, in no time at all the muddles would begin to form again. At times Grace wondered how the husband and wife could always be in agreement with one another, but they seemed to be so, and always behaved affectionately to one another. Their two children, Adam and Frances, seemed to follow in their parents’ characters, the boy like his father, the girl like her mother, but whereas the parents produced harmony together, the children were frequently at odds. Still, they were well-behaved children in the main, and Grace was pleased to teach them. She knew, however, that it would not be for long, for already there was talk of their going to school in a year or two.

  In the meantime, though, Grace enjoyed her work. On short, cold winter’s days she travelled sometimes by coach and sometimes by omnibus. On warmer days, however, she took advantage of the good weather and walked. The exercise was good for her, she reasoned, added to which, she saved on the fares.

  And the days and weeks went by, and the winter-cold branches eventually sprang their buds and blossomed, and the birds sang and the foxes took up their strange crying and the trees took on their full canopies. Spring was there, bright, and lush and green.

  As the weeks passed, and spring gave way to summer, during the long summer holidays from school Billy spent hours working in the gardens and the stables. Grace’s holidays were not so long, for the Kellases required her to teach their children throughout the summer all but for three weeks in July and August when the family went to the coast.

  Generally, for Grace, it was an uneventful time, and the weeks followed one after the other with little to mark them as remarkable in any way.

  But then in the autumn she heard the first breath of gossip.

  On a Saturday late in November the maid, Jane, was leaving.
By the time she was ready to make her departure, just after eleven, her replacement, Effie, had already arrived, preparing to take up her duties. Grace did not know the details of Jane’s dissatisfaction with her position; she was only aware that it was a factor in her leaving. According to Annie, the kitchen maid, there had been a disagreement between Jane and Mrs Sandiston, and Jane, hard to please at the best of times, had given notice. Now, this Saturday morning, with her hat and cape on, she swung out of the kitchen for the last time. Grace stepped into the rear passage just as Jane emerged, and moved to her.

  ‘Oh, Jane,’ Grace said, ‘I was hoping to catch you before you left.’

  Jane turned to her. ‘I’ve only got a minute.’

  Her manner was sullen, and Grace, taking in the redness about her small eyes, thought that she might have been crying.

  ‘I came to say goodbye and to wish you luck,’ Grace said.

  Jane put her head on one side for a moment as if studying her, then said with an ostentatious tone of gratitude, ‘Well, how very kind of you. How very nice of you to spare the time to come and see me off.’

  Her tone took Grace by surprise. She could see hostility in the girl’s face. ‘Jane, I mean it,’ she said, ‘ – I came down to wish you good luck for the future.’

  ‘What does my luck matter to you?’ Jane said. ‘You never cared a fig about my feelings since the moment you got here. If you’d only tell the truth you’d say you’re glad I’m going.’

  ‘Jane, that isn’t so at all. How can you say such a thing?’

  ‘How can I say such a thing? Oh, Miss Sweetness – listen to her, like butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth.’

  ‘Jane,’ Grace said evenly, ‘I don’t want us to quarrel. Can’t we part as friends?’ With her last words she tentatively put out her hand.

  Jane looked at the hand and curled her lip. ‘I’m not going to shake your hand just to make you feel good,’ she said. ‘That’s what you’d like, isn’t it? Well, you’re going to be disappointed. It was never the same for me after you arrived.’ She shook her head, lips compressed, as if she had difficulty forming the words she wished to speak, then she spat out: ‘I used to do Mrs Spencer’s hair before you came.’ Roughly she brushed past Grace and flounced to the door, then, reaching it, she turned and took a step back to stand before Grace again. ‘Companion,’ she sneered. ‘People like you – governesses, companions, you think you’re such a cut above the rest, don’t you? But you’re no better than the rest of us. You’re only a servant, after all. Companion, huh. What I’d like to know is, if you’re a companion, what are you doing here now? Mrs Spencer’s dead. She’ve got no need of a companion any more.’ She paused. ‘Unless it’s not Mrs Spencer you’re companion to.’

  With her final words she swung about, moved back to the door and stormed out into the yard and away.

  Grace stood with white face, her lips pale. She heard a sound, and, turning, saw Mrs Sandiston standing in the kitchen doorway, wiping her hands on her apron. Grace put her hands to her face. Mrs Sandiston stepped forward.

  ‘I wouldn’t worry about that,’ she said. ‘She’s not a happy young woman. And I’m afraid you put her nose out of joint. Put it down to that.’

  Grace couldn’t speak. Lowering her eyes, she gave a shake of her head, and murmuring, ‘Excuse me,’ hurried along the passage and up to her room.

  An hour later Grace was in her room when she saw Mr Spencer draw up in his carriage in the stable yard. In seconds she was through the door and starting down the stairs.

  ‘Mr Spencer …’ She called to him as she saw him moving towards the stairs.

  He stopped as she came towards him. ‘Is it important, Grace? I have to go out again soon.’ He had his coat on and carried his hat.

  ‘Please – it’ll only take a minute.’

  He nodded, stayed there waiting, but Grace said, ‘Oh – not here, sir, if you don’t mind.’

  ‘Fine.’ He turned and stepped towards the drawing room and opened the door. ‘Please …’ He held the door open and Grace stepped through. He followed her and closed the door behind them.

  ‘Would you like to sit down?’ he said.

  ‘No, thank you.’ Wasting no time, she said, ‘Sir – I thank you so much for allowing Billy and me to stay here over the past year …’ She came to a halt. He waited a second then said, prompting her:

  ‘Yes? Go on.’

  ‘I – I’m sorry if I sound ungrateful, sir, but – but I shall have to look around for other accommodation for us.’

  ‘What on earth for?’ He looked astonished.

  ‘Well, I …’ Her voice trailed off.

  ‘What for? Tell me. Are you leaving your position in Little Berron?’

  ‘No, it’s not that.’

  ‘Then, what?’

  She shook her head. ‘Oh – I don’t want to go into it. Can’t we just say that I have to leave – with great gratitude for everything, I hasten to add – but nevertheless I have to leave.’

  ‘No, we can’t just say that. I want to know why.’

  She gave a little groan. ‘Sir – please, I –’

  ‘Tell me,’ he said.

  ‘I saw Jane a little while ago …’

  ‘Ah, yes, Jane – I understand she gave in her notice. Has she left?’

  ‘An hour ago.’

  He shrugged. ‘Well, I doubt her absence will be that much mourned. If Mrs Sandiston’s opinion is anything to go by, she was more trouble than she was worth. Anyway, what’s she got to do with anything?’

  ‘Mr Spencer – I really don’t want to go into this …’

  ‘I don’t think you’ve got much choice. Just tell me what it is – or I shall begin to imagine all kinds of dreadful things.’

  ‘It is – dreadful.’

  ‘Oh?’ He frowned deeply. ‘Come,’ he said, ‘tell me now.’ Unable to meet his eyes, Grace said, her gaze in the direction of the window, ‘Jane made a comment to me just before she left …’

  ‘Yes …?’

  ‘Yes – and she made the implication that – this is very difficult for me – the implication that there is – is more to my relationship with you than there actually is.’

  ‘Are you serious?’ His frown was heavy as thunder. ‘What did she actually say?’

  ‘It isn’t so much what she said, sir – it was her clear implication. She made it very clear that she thought there was some relationship between us. Other than what there is.’

  He was silent for a moment, then he said, ‘Do you think she truly believed it?’

  ‘I’m not sure about that, sir – she may simply have been trying to hurt me – to score a point – but it’s obvious that the thought has gone through her mind.’ Then, seeing nothing else for it, she told him what Jane had said.

  ‘I see,’ he said. ‘And now what is going to happen?’

  ‘Well – I see nothing for it but to leave, sir. I can’t stay on here if there is this kind of gossip starting.’

  ‘I could say, of course, what does gossip matter if there’s nothing in it? – but we all know that it can do great harm.’ He took out his watch, looked at it and put it back. ‘I’m sorry, Grace, but I just have to go. I have to rush out again. Can we talk about this later?’

  ‘Of course, sir, but –’

  ‘We’ll talk about it later.’ He was already moving back to the door. ‘I’ll send you word tomorrow. We can talk then.’

  In the afternoon of the following day, the new maid, Effie, came to Grace’s room with a message asking if she would go and see Mr Spencer in the conservatory in half an hour.

  At the appointed time Grace left her room and went downstairs. Entering the conservatory she found Mr Spencer standing looking out over the rear garden. ‘Ah, Grace,’ he said, turning at the sound of her step. He moved towards her. ‘Would like some tea? I can send for some.’

  ‘Not for me, thank you, sir. I had some not long ago.’

  ‘Right.’ He nodded. ‘Sit down, please.’ He
gestured to the wicker sofa and when Grace was seated took the chair facing her. ‘Thank you for coming down,’ he said.

  Grace smiled, but said nothing. He looked around him. The varied fragrances of the plants were in the air. ‘My wife loved this part of the house,’ he said. ‘All these plants.’ He gave a deep sigh. ‘Life has to continue, doesn’t it? Sometimes we have no idea how, but it does.’

  There was a silence for several moments. Then Mr Spencer leaned forward, his forearms on his knees, his hands clasped.

  ‘I have to talk to you,’ he said.

  Grace said nothing, waited.

  ‘I was distressed to hear what you had to tell me yesterday,’ he said. ‘That foolish, coarse girl. How dare she speak to you like that? Well – good riddance.’

  His eyes burned into her own, his gaze seeming to search her face – for answers to which there had been no questions. ‘I have to talk to you,’ he said again. He reached out his right hand, took her left hand and drew it towards him. Then, clasping her hand between his own, he said, ‘Grace, I want to marry you.’

  Silence. For a moment Grace thought she had not heard correctly. But he was holding her hand, and leaning urgently towards her.

  ‘Grace – you heard what I said.’

  She nodded. ‘Yes.’ She merely breathed the word.

  ‘This business with Jane – her saying that stupid, cruel thing – it was awful for you – though at the same time it has made it possible for me to say what I want to say. She’s forced my hand, so to speak. I suppose I should be grateful to her, in a way.’

  ‘Sir –’ She began to withdraw her hands, but with the slightest pressure he renewed his hold on her.

  ‘Please – let me tell you,’ he said. ‘Your telling me what you have heard and that you might have to leave – it gives me no choice now but to speak out. If I don’t then you’ll go away and I shall never have the opportunity – and I shall have lost something very precious to me.’

  ‘Mr Spencer –’

  ‘No, no – not Mr Spencer – Edward, you must call me Edward.’

  ‘Sir – please …’

  ‘Edward.’

  She shook her head. ‘I – I cannot.’