Song of the Skylark

by Erica James

  ‘Goodness, I had forgotten how appallingly rude you could be.’

  ‘Your amnesia was good for something, then. Artie, your greatest advocate, says you’re fine now, is that true?’

  In spite of herself, she blushed at his description of Artie and, before she could say anything, Ellis lifted the lid on a large crock, pulled a face and lowered the lid. He then looked about the kitchen, taking in the shabbiness. The kitchen had become such a mess; Clarissa supposed it was beyond Mrs Kent’s capabilities, or will, to sort it out. It was one of the many things Clarissa longed to take in hand. If it were down to her, she would get rid of Mrs Kent and employ a new cook, paying her a decent wage to ensure loyalty and good service.

  ‘I’ll make you a cheese omelette,’ Clarissa said, moving round the large table to get to the pantry. Mentally she crossed her fingers that there were enough eggs and sufficient cheese that would be palatable to a man as particular as Ellis.‘You seem very at home here,’ Ellis remarked a short time later when he was sitting at the table and tucking into the omelette. ‘Is this you doing something worthwhile?’

  Her hackles went up. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘What are you doing that’s worthwhile?’

  He finished what was in his mouth. ‘Well, I’ve been rocketing around the Riviera with Effie, followed by London on my own to see some folks my parents insisted I visit. By the way, Effie sends her love and says she misses you more than words can say, which we both know is an exaggeration, but that’s Effie for you. Hyperbole is second nature to her.’

  ‘So why aren’t you still in London, what are you doing here?’

  ‘Visiting you, of course. When I realised you probably weren’t going to meet me for dinner in London, I thought there was nothing else for it but to make the journey to see for myself where you’d dug yourself in. It doesn’t really look your kind of place, if you don’t mind me saying.’

  ‘I do mind you saying, actually.’

  The omelette now eaten, he pushed the plate away from him. ‘I love it that you’re so defensively prickly with me. I don’t suppose you’re like that with Artie, are you?’

  ‘No I’m not, but then he’s so much nicer than you.’

  Ellis laughed. ‘You’re right. But what you get with me is good old-fashioned honesty. Has Artie been honest with you?’

  ‘I’m not aware of him being dishonest with me.’

  ‘It’s always what isn’t said that you have to listen to most closely. Got any bourbon?’

  ‘No,’ she said, stifling a yawn. ‘Ellis, as pleased as I am to see you, it’s late. Do you think we could continue this conversation tomorrow?’

  He looked at her. ‘You don’t sound at all pleased to see me. In fact, I’d go so far as to say you sound distinctly put out.’

  ‘I’m sorry. It’s just …’

  ‘It’s just what?’

  ‘I feel so wrong-footed. It’s how you—’ She hesitated, reluctant to admit he’d had this effect on her from the moment they met. ‘It’s what you delight in doing, isn’t it,’ she said instead, ‘making people feel ill at ease?’

  ‘Thank God for that! I was beginning to worry I’d lost my touch and you were indifferent to my unique allure and devilish good looks.’

  She laughed. ‘Trust me, Ellis, nobody could ever be indifferent to you.’

  ‘Since we have that cleared up, are you going to offer my weary body a bed for the night?’

  She looked at him, shocked. ‘Aren’t you booked into an inn nearby?’

  ‘No. This was an entirely spontaneous desire of mine. There I was staying in London with some exceedingly dull friends of my parents when I thought, to hell with it, I’ll get myself a motorcycle and cheer myself up by seeing you.’

  ‘I’m flattered that you should think me capable of doing that.’

  ‘Now don’t go fishing for compliments, just point me in the direction of a comfortable bed for the night.’

  ‘But it’s not my house. You’re putting me in a very difficult spot.’

  ‘The hell I am! A close friend of yours turns up unexpectedly, why wouldn’t your grandparents offer me a bed for the night? Are they that mean-spirited?’

  ‘Come on, then,’ she said. ‘But heaven only knows what they’ll say in the morning when they learn they have an uninvited guest.’

  ‘They’ll be perfectly British about it and pretend to be delighted to meet me.’

  ‘I wouldn’t count on it.’

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  June 1939, Shillingbury Grange, Suffolk

  Clarissa woke early the following morning.

  From the bedroom next door came the sound of voices. These were not the voices she was now used to hearing – the quiet murmurings in German of two anxious boys – no, this was exuberant chatter that included a man’s voice. Ellis!

  At the sound of laughter, she got out of bed and hurriedly dressed. Trouble lay ahead with her grandparents, and she had to do her best to minimise the damage.

  The door to the boys’ room was ajar and, pushing it further open, her gaze fell upon Thomas and Walter in their pyjamas playing on the rug with the wooden toys. They were not alone: dressed in his clothes from last night, Ellis was lying on his side on the floor with them and saying something in German. Seeing her, all three went quiet; the happy smiles from the boys’ faces gone in a flash.

  ‘Guten Morgen,’ Ellis greeted her brightly, as if there was nothing out of the ordinary in him being here and playing with two German boys.

  ‘You never mentioned you could speak German,’ she said.

  ‘You never asked,’ he replied. He sat up. ‘What’s for breakfast? The boys tell me the cook here is terrible.’

  ‘I’m inclined to agree with you, but if you want to be fed, I’d keep that to yourself. And do keep the noise down; Charles doesn’t want to be disturbed at any time of the day, let alone this early. Can you tell the boys they need to get dressed, please?’ She pointed to the two piles of neatly folded clothes she had put out for them at bedtime last night. ‘It’s their first day at school. If you can do that for me, I’ll go and find Lavinia to explain about your presence here.’

  ‘Say nice things about me, won’t you?’ he called after her.

  ‘I’ll try,’ she said, glancing back at him, ‘but it won’t be easy.’

  He smiled and turning to the boys, addressed them in German. At once their faces resumed the happy expressions of before and they smiled and nodded their heads.

  ‘What did you just say to them?’ asked Clarissa, curious. She was pretty sure it had nothing to do with getting dressed.

  ‘I asked them if they didn’t agree with me that you were the kindest and most beautiful girl in all of England.’

  Clarissa flushed. ‘You shouldn’t tell lies in front of children,’ she said.

  ‘For your information, Fräulein Prim, I’m not lying. They were telling me earlier, before you so rudely interrupted our fine game, that they wished they could thank you properly for your kindness, but didn’t know how. I told them I wished you were half as nice to me.’

  She smiled. ‘Perhaps if you were as well behaved as they are, that might be possible.’ To the boys she tapped the watch on her wrist. ‘Breakfast in ten minutes,’ she said in a clear voice.

  Now to explain things to her grandmother and assure her no impropriety had taken place under her roof.

  Clarissa didn’t know what shocked her more, that Lavinia greeted Ellis with impeccable politeness, or the impeccable manner of Ellis’s behaviour in return.

  His apology for arriving at such a late hour last night, and without invitation, was so fulsome and so utterly devoid of his customary disdain and arrogance that Clarissa could scarcely believe it was the same man sitting at the table beside her. Over breakfast he explained about his friendship with Artie and that he’d wanted the opportunity t
o see for himself that Clarissa was quite recovered from her accident, as he was required to reassure another mutual friend – none other than Effie Chase – that Clarissa was not at death’s door. Clarissa could tell that her grandmother didn’t have a clue who Effie Chase was, but was much too polite to say so.

  ‘What a lot of friends you have who are so concerned about your welfare,’ she said to Clarissa, ‘but really, I’m appalled you didn’t wake me last night so I could ensure proper arrangements were made for Mr Randall’s stay.’

  Evidently thoroughly charmed by Ellis, Lavinia went on to insist he stay for lunch, as she was sure Charles would value chatting with him – he was in his room eating his breakfast alone. ‘It makes a refreshing change for my husband to have some male company,’ she said, ‘we see so few people these days. He enjoyed having your friend Artie here.’

  Throughout the exchange, not once did Lavinia wince at the noise of Thomas tapping his teaspoon against his saucer, or reprimand Walter for helping himself to too much jam for his toast. Being a stickler for table manners, mealtimes were a minefield of irritations for her, but this morning she was as good as oblivious to the children’s presence so absorbed was she in talking to Ellis.

  ‘Time to go now,’ Clarissa said to the boys when she heard the grandfather clock behind her chime.

  Without her asking him to, Ellis spoke in German to them, presumably translating what she’d just said. Thomas replied to him and, turning to Clarissa, Ellis said, ‘He’s asked if I can come with you. Better still, let me take them to school on the Norton.’

  Not daring to think what he might want to do to impress two young boys with his motorcycle, she said, ‘I think walking will be safer.’

  The bell was being rung by Mrs Russell in the schoolyard when they arrived.

  ‘Just let them go in on their own,’ Ellis said in a low voice, when Clarissa started to walk with the boys towards the entrance of the building. ‘You can’t be with them during the day, so you might just as well let them get on with it.’

  She knew he was right, but it didn’t lessen the anxiety she felt at abandoning the two lost souls to whom she already felt so attached. If it were allowed for her to spend the day in the classroom watching over her young charges, she would. But dragging their feet they slowly joined the throng of children and went through the open door without a backward glance.

  ‘That was brave,’ said Ellis quietly.

  ‘Yes,’ she said, ‘they were very brave.’

  ‘I didn’t mean Thomas and Walter, I meant you, letting them go. You do realise, don’t you, that you’re going to have to resist the emotional need to protect them and fight their battles for them.’

  ‘It’s not a need,’ she said, without looking at him and turning to walk home. ‘It’s a desire. There’s a big difference.’

  He scoffed. ‘You’re not fooling me, Clarissa. Mothering two orphans is more or less the perfect way to satisfy your urge to prove yourself in the world. This is your big worthwhile moment in life, isn’t it?’

  ‘They’re not orphans,’ she corrected him, quickening her step, ‘and I do wish you’d stop telling me what I’m supposed to be thinking or doing.’

  He ignored her chastisement. ‘From what I hear, I’m afraid there’s every reason to believe they soon will be,’ he said, his voice suddenly grave, ‘if they aren’t already.’ He came to a stop alongside her.

  They were standing on the edge of the village green, waiting for a tractor to trundle slowly by. When it had gone, Clarissa said, ‘I hope you haven’t been expressing that opinion to Thomas and Walter.’

  ‘Of course I haven’t, what do you take me for? But they’re not stupid, especially not Thomas. He was telling me earlier some of what he’s witnessed at home in Berlin, and what he’s experienced personally, the bullying at school for being Jewish, not just from other children, but from teachers, of being made to sit alone at the back of the class, and finally being banned from even attending school last November. He told me of the neighbours who threw stones at him and his brother, and worst of all, he told me what he witnessed during Kristallnacht when Stormtroopers ransacked the family shop while a braying mob looked on. He saw his father and grandfather taken away and returned some days later, badly beaten. So, Clarissa, he knows that his parents are in the greatest of danger and you can’t protect him from what he knows already.’

  ‘But I can do my damnedest to lessen the nightmare,’ Clarissa said, her heart beating rapidly at the horror of what Thomas and Walter had escaped. ‘Is that so very wrong?’

  Ellis smiled and slipping her arm through his, walked on. ‘You’re a special girl, Clarissa – promise me you won’t ever lose your zeal for doing good.’

  She waited for a sarcastic sting in the tail of his remark. When none came, she said, ‘Don’t be absurd, you’re making me out to be some kind of saint.’

  ‘I’m damned if I pay you a compliment and damned if I don’t. I can’t win with you, can I?’

  ‘Is it that important to you that you do?’

  ‘I always win, Clarissa. Remember that, won’t you?’

  ‘And in this instance, what exactly is it you think you’ll win?’ She had a sudden recall of kissing him while less than sober on board the Belle Etoile, and didn’t like the association of thought.

  He threw his head back and laughed. ‘That remains to be seen. How do you fancy a ride on the Norton? You could show me round some of this delightfully English countryside, then maybe we could stop at a small quaint inn and sample a glass of this warm soapy beer I’ve yet to develop a taste for. The English really have no idea when it comes to beer, do they?’

  ‘Not possible, I’m afraid. I have to return here at lunchtime to walk the boys home for lunch. Plus Lavinia is rather keen for you to spend some time with my grandfather.’

  ‘To hell with that, I haven’t come all this way to spend time with some bad-tempered old boy who’ll talk down to me. I get enough of that back at home.’

  ‘I knew all that charm you were laying on so thick this morning was fake,’ Clarissa said with a smile. ‘You really are a fraud, aren’t you?’

  ‘We’re all frauds, Clarissa. Even you.’

  ‘And what’s that supposed to mean?’

  ‘You’re not honest enough with people. You don’t share your true feelings. You’ve built yourself a wall to hide behind.’

  ‘Does anyone show their true feelings? Look at the performance you put on for my grandmother’s benefit at breakfast.’

  ‘I had a reason for my duplicity: I wanted to spend time getting to know you, the real you.’

  That, thought Clarissa, was the biggest mystery of all. And why did he appear to know her better than she knew herself? Or more precisely, better than she was prepared to admit about herself?

  Ellis’s visit to Shillingbury extended to a further night, during which time he never faltered in his genial performance, the result being he had both Charles and Lavinia hanging on his every word. He was a surprisingly good raconteur, but also paid Charles plenty of notice by listening to him attentively. Charles mostly spoke of his conviction that war was imminent and that the government should be doing more. With several large glasses of whisky consumed, he spoke bitterly of his financial losses during and after the Depression.

  Before Ellis left to return to London, Clarissa’s grandparents extracted a promise from him to return again, and soon.

  ‘You’ve quite cheered us up,’ Lavinia said with a soft, girlish smile that lifted the corners of her customarily downward-sloping mouth and made her seem younger and more carefree. Seeing her grandmother so transformed touched Clarissa; it made her realise that the woman could be happy if the circumstances were different. It made Clarissa want to see her smile more often.

  No sooner had this thought passed through her mind than she pictured Ellis raising an accusing eyebrow at her
– Something else to add to your growing list of worthwhile things to do? she imagined him sneering.

  But even she had to admit that it had been fun having Ellis around. Thomas and Walter had thoroughly enjoyed his company and had needed no encouragement to climb onto his motorcycle with him and go for a ride, the two of them, at Clarissa’s instruction holding on tightly, and laughing happily. The day after he left, Thomas came and found Clarissa in the kitchen where she was trying to bring some order to the chaos of Mrs Kent’s domain on the cook’s afternoon off. Handing her a picture he’d drawn – it was of Ellis standing beside the motorbike – he’d said simply, ‘For you.’

  What surprised her most was not that Thomas thought she would want a picture of Ellis, but the quality of the drawing. For an eight-year-old, it was exceptionally well executed, to the point that he’d caught the likeness of Ellis remarkably well; the tilt of his head, the directness of his stare, the confidence of his stance – it was unmistakably Ellis.

  A week after Ellis had left them, Clarissa received a letter from him saying he was on his way to Florence to rejoin Effie and her father and stepmother. He asked Clarissa to say hi to Tommy and Walt, as he called them, and asked how they were getting on at school. His interest in the children surprised her. She hoped it was genuine, and not some ruse to endear himself to her.

  The answer to his question was that after a few difficult days the boys seemed to be settling in well at school. They were now perfectly happy to walk to and from school on their own, including coming home for lunch. To Clarissa’s amazement they were making rapid progress with learning English and were happy to sit with her in the garden while she tested them on what they knew. To balance things, she encouraged them to teach her a few words in German. They thought it terribly funny when she made a hash of pronouncing something that tripped off their tongue.

  Often, as they sat on a blanket on the lawn, she would read to them from the children’s books she had bought. She sensed they enjoyed listening to her even if they didn’t understand all of it. She knew as a child she had loved her parents reading to her, and had derived great comfort from the soothing sound of their voices. Walter would often move in closer to her while she read, until finally he would be so close he could seamlessly manoeuvre himself onto her lap.