by Janet Woods
‘Nonsense. Chad and I adored you. You spent time with us and played lots of games. We wished you were our real father.’
He flicked a glance her way. ‘Thank you for that nice compliment, your late parents would be proud of you all, you know.’
‘Why don’t we have anything to do with Major Sangster any more? After all, he is Meggie’s grandfather.’
He sighed. ‘You asked your sister the same question, I understand. What was her answer?’
‘She said she didn’t want to talk about it.’
‘Then it’s not fair of you to expect me to break a confidence, and I advise you to let sleeping dogs lie, as Livia wants. That’s my last word on the subject.’
And judging from the impatient tone of Denton’s voice, Esmé knew it was. ‘Sorry,’ she murmured. All the same, he’d made it clear that there was some underlying problem they avoided. It was jolly curious, and she thought about it often.
He changed the subject, his handsome, rugged face softening. ‘Can I book a dance before your card gets filled.’
‘Which dance . . . tango or Charleston?’
Denton laughed at the thought. ‘Good Lord; I’m not quite that ambitious. If you value your feet a slow foxtrot will do me nicely . . . the slower the better.’
He honked the horn as they rounded the bend.
Home was a slightly shabby red brick building called Evesham House, and named after the village. Evesham House had half-panelled wooden walls and large fireplaces. Bits had been added to it from time to time, so it fell together in a comfortable heap of mismatched bricks and windows. Sometimes the house rattled if the wind was strong enough.
The Elliot house was situated not far from Blandford, along with a clutch of other houses. It included the shuttered Foxglove House, and Nutting Cottage, where Major Henry Sangster lived. A mile away on the other side of the village was the home of Andrew Elliot, who was Denton’s father, and also a doctor.
Esmé’s sister, Livia, had a chintzy, country taste in furniture, though nothing really matched, and although the house never looked completely tidy, everything seemed designed for an active family to relax in – a house that didn’t mind displaying its dusty corners.
Dressed in their pyjamas, the three younger children of the family came rushing down the staircase except for thirteen-year-old Meggie, who rode down the banister rail with a wide grin on her face.
‘One of these days you’re going to hurt yourself,’ Livia told her for the umpteenth time since Meggie had discovered how to ride down the rail safely. But when Esmé’s eyes sought out those of Denton they were filled with amusement, and he winked at her, because she and Chad used to do the same.
They exchanged hugs and kisses, and Adam said, ‘Come up and tell us a story, Aunt Es.’
Swinging Meggie on to his back and tucking Luke and Adam under each arm, Denton gave Livia a smacking kiss on the mouth. ‘Hello, my darling . . . I’m home.’
‘As though I hadn’t noticed. As usual, pandemonium reigns the moment you walk through the door.’
‘Who’s Pan D. Moanium? Have I met him?’
Esmé giggled and Livia laughed, as Denton headed back up the stairs weighed down by the trio clinging to him. He dropped them in a heap on the landing, and fussed with a big black dog that had come out of the kitchen to follow them up, and now greeted his master’s acknowledgement with a slurp of its long, pink tongue.
‘I’ll be up to tell you all a story in a minute,’ Esmé shouted after them, and headed for the kitchen to see to the promised sandwich.
Dressed in the burgundy gown, Livia followed after her and watched as Esmé grabbed an apron. ‘Don’t tell them a ghost story else they won’t settle. What are you doing in the kitchen?’
‘I promised to make Denton some soup and a sandwich. He had an emergency and that put his schedule out. He hasn’t eaten since breakfast, but he’s had a bath.’
‘Yes . . . I can smell the soap.’
‘I told him it whiffed but he just laughed.’
Livia’s smile brought a shine to the surface of her brown eyes. ‘I’ll never turn my man into a dandy and I’m used to the smell. I’ve already made a sandwich for him. It’s on the tray, and the soup is on the stove. I heard the car coming. Denton always honks at the corner, to let me know he’s nearly home.’
‘I’ll take his supper up and settle the kids down while you welcome your guests, if you like, Livia. Is Chad coming?’
‘He said he is. Did you see the caterer’s van on your way? They’re very late.’
‘No . . . they’re probably a bit behind seeing as it’s New Year, and anyway, they’ll be coming from the other direction.’
She left the supper tray on the table outside the master bedroom, rapped on the door to let Denton know it was there and then headed for the children’s rooms.
Meggie had her own room. It was a bright shade of sunshine yellow, and had a flaming red quilt on the bed with an orange sunflower. Meggie was not a child who suited pink.
She tucked the boys into bed and kissed their cheeks and then sat on Adam’s bed with Meggie snuggled against her. ‘Now . . . what will it be?’
‘A ghost story, you make up such corkers,’ Luke said.
‘Not tonight, your mother doesn’t want me to give you the willies.’
Luke made a moaning sound and Adam put his head under the blanket, shouting, ‘Shut up, Luke, else I’ll tell.’
‘The owl and the pussy cat,’ Esmé said firmly, hoping she could remember the words to the Edward Lear nonsense rhyme.
‘The owl and the pussy cat went to sea in a beautiful pea green boat.’
Adam piped up, ‘They took some honey and . . . and . . .’
‘Plenty of frogs legs and bats wings to eat and they turned green and got seasick all over the boat,’ Luke said, hanging his tongue out and making heaving noises.
‘They did not.’ Adam scowled at his older brother. ‘Besides, I did that last time Aunt Es read it. You’re a copycat.’
‘No I’m not.’
‘Yes, you are. Besides, it’s a nursery rhyme.’
‘And you’re both acting like babies.’ Meggie sighed. ‘Stop arguing at once. Boys . . . honestly!’ was huffed out in an exasperated sigh. ‘Allow Aunt Es to recite it otherwise we’ll be here all night. Go on Auntie, and don’t let them interrupt. I’ll sit on them if they do.’
Issued with her instructions, Esmé started at the beginning again, and by the time she got to, ‘they danced by the light of the moon’, the boys were nearly asleep.
Kissing them both, she tucked the covers under their chins and walked Meggie through to her bedroom. She looked around for the cat, and found Whiskers in his usual place, asleep in the doll’s pram. He was getting old, she thought when he gave a sleepy but irritated ‘meow’ as Meggie tucked him in.
Both pram and cat had been a gift from Livia’s first husband to Esmé. Richard Sangster had bought Chad a dog at the same time. Bertie had died the previous year and they’d buried him in the garden. His place in the family had been taken by the tall, but gentle, black curly-coated retriever called Shadow.
Meggie looked like Livia with her dark hair and eyes, though there was more than a touch of Sangster in her. ‘Will you teach me to dance the Charleston tomorrow?’
‘I thought I’d taught you that one.’
‘You did. But my hands keep getting mixed up with my knees when I do that crossover bit, and I bang them together.’
She laughed and gave her niece a hug and a kiss. ‘It is a bit tricky. We’ll go through it again tomorrow. Goodnight, Meggie Moo. I love you.’
‘I love you too.’ Meggie yawned unconvincingly. ‘Leave the door open a bit so I can listen to the music on the gramophone. I wanted to attend, but Mummy said I wasn’t old enough, and would have to wait until I was sixteen, but that’s years away. I am old enough, aren’t I?’
‘Not if your mother says you’re not. Stop being such a drama queen.’
&nb
sp; ‘That’s what Daddy said.’
‘Then everybody else must be right, except you.’
Meggie gave an offended snort. ‘Honestly! Everyone always sides with Mummy. Just wait until I’m old, like you, I shan’t invite anyone to my parties.’
Esmé grinned. ‘They’ll be quiet parties then, and nobody would want to attend anyway.’
Her cross patches never lasted long, and Meggie giggled.
Esmé went down, in time to see her brother shedding his coat. With him was a lanky looking man with a tumble of dark unruly hair.
Chad hung his coat on the hallstand and beamed a smile at her. He wasn’t very tall, but was handsome with his soft, but astute brown eyes and wavy hair. ‘What-oh, sis! You’re a sight for sore eyes.’
Chad looked tired. ‘Have you been burning the candle at both ends?’
He nodded. ‘At least I’ve graduated with enough marks to take me into medical school. I’ve got to keep up with my studies if I’m to succeed.’
His single-mindedness worried Esmé. ‘What if you don’t?’
His eyes told her the thought was alien to him, so did the short huff of impatience he gave. ‘You should know me better than that by now, Es. Failure is not part of my nature. We were given an opportunity to better ourselves, and it shouldn’t be wasted. We’ll never be out of work once our training is over . . . and from what I hear the depression is going to worsen, and will dig deep. Not a good time to be unemployed. Be glad that, despite everything, Livia managed to marry well and didn’t leave us in that home we were in. I shall do the same.’
Despite everything? Married well? It seemed an odd thing for her brother to say. Esmé sighed and gave him a hug. ‘How mercenary of you, Chad. Livia loved Richard Sangster, that’s why she married him, and she adores Denton. She didn’t marry either of them to enable you to attend medical school.’
‘Of course,’ he said, colouring a little. ‘I didn’t mean to suggest anything else.’
‘It’s a terribly romantic story, and both men were heroes. I shall only marry for love, too. I won’t care if he’s well-off or not. And I hope you do the same.’
‘You will care when you and your brood of children are starving in a backstreet slum, and you’re begging on the street and have nobody to turn to.’
‘Who’s starving in a backstreet slum?’
Esmé turned to see Denton behind her, and wondered how much he’d overheard. ‘I am, apparently. I said I wanted to marry for love, and Chad immediately placed me in a slum dwelling with a dozen starving children to support.’
Denton held out a hand to Chad, grinning. ‘Welcome home. Don’t worry, when Esmé gets into that state we’ll rescue her and the dirty dozen. You know, your sister has more sense than you give her credit for, Chad.’
Chad looked slightly dubious, and then gave a small smile. ‘If you think so Denton; it depends which sister we’re talking about, I suppose?’
Esmé gazed at her twin for a moment, almost dumbstruck. ‘You made a joke, Chad. It was a pitiful one, but a joke nevertheless. Congratulations.’
His companion chuckled, a warm rumble. His clothes hung loosely, as if somebody had picked him up, shaken the wrinkles out and hung him back on a hook. She offered him a smile so he wouldn’t feel excluded, and he winked at her.
Hah! He was full of so much confidence that she was left feeling ruffled.
‘Make the most of it, sis. In the meantime, I’ll work on a better joke for next year.’
She laughed, and placed a kiss on his cheek. ‘Don’t strain yourself, Chad. Now, I’m not standing here in the cold indulging in idle talk all night. You haven’t introduced your friend, and I want to join the party.’
‘This is Leo Thornton. He’s at a loose end and will be off home in a month or so. He’s a fairly decent chap so I’ve brought him home. Leo, meet my sister, Esmé, and my brother-in-law, Denton Elliot.’
A firm handshake was exchanged with Denton and there was a murmured, but respectful, ‘I’m pleased to meet you, sir. I’ve heard a lot about you.’
Denton nodded. ‘Welcome.’
A pair of vivid blue eyes regarded her from a face that looked as though it smiled a lot. He gave her a lopsided grin and drawled, ‘G’day, Es . . .’
She blinked.
‘Australian,’ Chad said, reading her mind. ‘Leo lives on a station.’
‘Oh, I see.’ Though she didn’t see at all. ‘That must be quite noisy with the trains.’
Leo chuckled. ‘You’d call it a farm here, I reckon.’
‘Oh . . . that sort of station. How absolutely wonderful; I’ve always wanted to live on a farm. Do you have rabbits?’
‘Do we have rabbits? I’ll say we have rabbits, hundreds of the little b—’ Chad’s quiet cough interrupted and Leo grinned at him before offering her a smile that was both apologetic and charming. ‘Blighters.’
A cheer went up as they entered the room and they were drawn into the partying crowd. Mostly it was the neighbours who’d been invited, but they had grown-up sons and daughters who intended to have a good time.
There were also a couple of doctor colleagues and their wives, and horror of horrors – Matron! In an olive-green dress, which was only minutely less severe than her uniform, she was with a tall, thin gentleman who resembled her. Her brother, Esmé imagined. She couldn’t ever remember seeing Matron without her cap starched rigidly into its severe kite-shape. Her hair was a pretty, light shade of brown, and curly, as though it was rebelling against the severity of the rest of her.
She slid Denton an accusing glance and he grinned and winked at her.
It would be rude to ignore Matron, even if she’d dared to. She crossed to where they stood and smiled, because she didn’t like feeling at a disadvantage on her home ground. ‘Is there anything I can get for you, Matron?’
‘No dear, we’re fine. May I introduce my brother, Percival. He’s a headmaster. Percy, this is one of my girls, Nurse Carr.’
Percival looked perfect for the role of headmaster in his round wire-framed glasses. He sported a neatly trimmed salt and pepper moustache and smelled of peppermint cordial. She took the hand he offered, thinking he had a nice smile.
He said, ‘Ah yes . . . one of Hilda’s best, I’m given to understand.’
Esmé offered Matron a slip of a smile. Compliments were hard to come by from her, so even a second-hand one was worth having.
Matron’s glance settled on Esmé’s hemline. ‘Hmmm . . .’ was all she said, and although the younger guests mostly wore their skirts knee length, Esmé felt as though she were naked. She gave a nervous giggle.
‘A nurse is only as good as her tutor,’ Denton said gallantly, coming from behind to rescue her. She watched Denton wrap the woman around his little finger. ‘I’m pleased you could come, Hilda. How pretty you look. You must save me a dance.’
Matron simpered. ‘I’m surprised you managed to get away.’
‘I couldn’t keep a beautiful young woman waiting for me, so I left the patient open on the operating table, and will stitch him up tomorrow after breakfast.’
‘Dr Elliot! You wouldn’t do such a dreadful thing. I believe you’ve met my brother.’
‘Hello, Percy. How have you been keeping? Es, my love, there was a problem with the caterers being late, and Livia needs a hand setting up the buffet if you wouldn’t mind.’
She escaped with relief and headed for the kitchen, where her sister was struggling with plates of this and that. She picked up a soggy water biscuit with a sardine attached and gazed at it. ‘Good grief, this fish looks as though it died six months ago. Do you need a hand, Livia?’
Livia snorted and giggled at the same time. ‘I’m beginning to think Denton is having a bad influence on you.’
‘He’s buttering up the matron at the moment, and she’s falling for it, hook, line and sinker.’
‘Perhaps we should swap him for the sardine then. Talking of butter, there doesn’t seem to be enough food to go round. W
hat do you think? I’m sure I ordered more than this, but I can’t find the list.’
‘I’ll make an extra platter of sandwiches to be on the safe side, if you like. So much for hiring caterers to save time.’
‘There was a dreadful mix-up. First they delivered the food to Nutting Cottage, and that awful old man sent them to Foxglove House. He knows very well the place is boarded up. Eventually they found us, and delivered, but there was nobody to serve it. Now I’ve got to try and make it look pretty. I’m sure I ordered some caviar.’
‘There’s a tin in the larder left over from Christmas. I’ll tip it into a glass bowl, and make some toast fingers. Haven’t we got some cake doilies in the drawer? We can fancy things up with those?’
Relief came into Livia’s eyes. ‘Why didn’t I think of that?’
‘Because you’ve got yourself in a tizzy.’ Esmé took out a dozen eggs and placed them in a pan of water on the stove to boil.
‘I’m sure the major did it on purpose because he wasn’t invited.’
‘Stop talking and let’s get on.’ Esmé took out a loaf of bread and slid it to her sister. ‘Cut it into thin slices and butter it while I prepare the filling.’
‘You’re being awfully bossy, Es.’
‘I know, that’s what comes of being a nurse.’ Opening a tin of salmon she drained it, mashed it up then spread it on the bread and added some mustard and cress that was growing on damp blotting paper in the larder. One of Meggie’s attempts at gardening, she supposed, and hoped it was edible.
She sliced off the crusts and cut the sandwiches into fingers, leaving Livia to arrange them while she investigated the pantry further. The remaining half of the Christmas cake was cut into squares, and a sprig of holly decorated the top.
Livia gazed dubiously at it. ‘Perhaps we shouldn’t. Holly berries might be poisonous.’
‘Only if you eat several at once. Have you invited the old man?’
Livia offered an emphatic, ‘Certainly not.’
‘I remember old Major Henry as being a nice old man. Why don’t you ever invite him? He’s Meggie’s grandfather, isn’t he? One of these days she’ll put the two Sangster names together. You know what she’s like. She’ll want to know why she hasn’t been encouraged to socialize with her grandfather.’
