by Janet Woods
‘And Leo?’
Her smile was spontaneous. ‘He’s just as confident as the last time I met him. He took me to meet his parents and brother. They have a sheep station, and it’s huge. His brother runs it with his parents.’
‘Leo took rather a fancy to you when he was here.’
‘He took every opportunity to remind me of that. He asked me to be his girl before I left Australia.’
‘And . . .?’
‘He hadn’t considered the difficulty of courtship when there are thirteen thousand miles between us. That was the principal reason Liam and I decided to part.’
Chad laughed, and then offered her an amused, ‘I thought it was because Livia froze him out. You’re not still dreamy-eyed about Billy Bastard are you, Es?’
‘Don’t call him that, Chad. He’s doing his best to manage his life, and without the privileges we enjoyed. We’re no longer children, and it tends to diminish you, rather than him.’
Colour touched his cheeks. ‘Yes, I suppose it does. You might as well know that I checked his background. He’d been an inmate of Borstal a couple of times?’
She hadn’t known, but he’d said he’d done things he was ashamed of and wanted to forget. ‘That’s the boys’ prison, isn’t it?’ Although she dreaded the answer, she had to ask it. ‘What did he do?’
‘Housebreaking the first time. The second time he broke into a shop. Then he was caught dancing in the street outside a theatre, and passing the hat round.’
‘That’s not much of a crime.’
‘He had no fixed address and was sleeping in an empty house he’d broken into. He was eighteen at the time. When he came out, the theatre gave him a job.’
He’d met his best friend Eric then, she recalled. Eric had obviously been a good influence on Liam. Although he was pleasant, he kept his distance, and she’d formed the impression that he disapproved of her engagement to Liam.
‘Thank goodness we didn’t have to sing in the street to feed ourselves.’ She felt a niggle of resentment because Chad had felt it his duty to check into Liam’s background. He couldn’t help his background or upbringing. ‘Liam has grown up with quite a few good qualities, Chad. You tend to overlook that. He used to defend you from the bigger boys.’
‘Yes . . . I suppose he has.’
‘Let the matter drop, please, Chad. Liam’s past is his own business, and one he regrets. He’s grown up since then, and you can afford to be charitable.’
‘Yes, I know . . . sorry . . . I thought you’d want to know, and it’s only because I care for you, and don’t want you to be hurt.’
‘Liam wouldn’t hurt me. He always treated me with the utmost courtesy and respect. In fact, I always got the impression he liked his best friend, Eric Blair, more than he did me.’
‘Did you ever think . . . no, perhaps not.’
‘Stop trying to be enigmatic. Tell me.’
‘Well . . . some men are different.’
‘In what way?’
The look he flicked her had an awkward edge to it. ‘You know, Es. They prefer the um, friendship of close men friends.’
Her cheeks heated. ‘Enough, Chad, you’re embarrassing me. I’m sure Liam was nothing like that. Besides, you have no reason to suggest such a thing.’
‘Did he ever take any liberties with you?’
‘No, never! He kissed me when he proposed, that’s all. Liam has always been a perfect gentleman. What are you reading into that?’
‘That some men marry to prove themselves to themselves. You’re a lovely-looking woman. It would be natural for a man with marriage on his mind to drool over you. I’m glad he walked out on you else your marriage might have ended up as one of convenience.’
‘Ugh . . . how perfectly horrid of you to say so. In return for your advice, I promise to mind my own business, and not to interfere when you find yourself a girlfriend. You can make your own mistakes your own way.’
‘Touché, Sis,’ he said, and laughed as he brought the car to a halt. ‘I’d be lucky to find a girl who’d want me, I think?’
Chad was of medium height and handsome in a quiet sort of way. Some would call him ordinary, but his brown eyes held warmth in their depths, and they resembled hers, reminding her that their mother had nourished them both at the same time.
Overwhelmed with love for him, despite her anger, she kissed his cheek. ‘I’m sure some girl will take pity on you eventually . . . and Chad,’ she said, before she got out of the car, ‘I think she will be the lucky one.’
The Christmas tree in the window welcomed Esmé home, and as she walked inside the house the fruity aroma of Christmas puddings brought the past rushing into the present.
She thought of Minnie celebrating it at the nursing post at Pepperpot Creek, and wished she could have stayed longer to keep her company.
There was a clatter of feet on the stairs, followed by a surge of hugs, kisses and the din of family talking over each other. She couldn’t tell who was doing or saying what in the mixture of bodies.
‘Look at that suntan. I’m envious.’
‘Did you see any crocodiles, Aunt Es?’
Grinning, Chad headed for the kitchen with a box of groceries in his arms.
‘Hello, Aunt Es. We thought you were never coming.’
‘Who is that big parcel for?’
‘Wait and see.’
‘There’s some mail in your room, Aunt Es.’
She set the box down. ‘Boys, you can put these parcels under the tree, and no peeking, or else.’
Livia came scurrying through to collect a kiss, her hands covered in breadcrumbs. She smelled of sage and onion. ‘I’m just stuffing the turkey. Won’t be long, Es darling. I’m glad you got here in time for Christmas.’
His tail wagging, Shadow brought her his leash, and went through the ritual of stretching his muscles, just in case.
Esmé patted his head. ‘Not a chance, Shadow. Try me again tomorrow.’
The boys returned and Luke adopted a solemn expression. ‘Whiskers died, and we buried him under the apple tree.’ There was a moment of combined sadness, followed by, ‘He went to sleep and didn’t wake up. Daddy took Whisker’s pram up to the attic.’
‘We didn’t notice until Whiskers didn’t come down for dinner,’ Meggie said. ‘He was still curled up in his pram and I thought he was asleep. But he was cold and stiff.’
‘I said a prayer.’ Adam’s voice wobbled a bit. ‘We sang a hymn and Meggie cried like billy-o.’
‘I did not. I had something in my eye.’
Tears pricked Esmé’s eyes, but Whiskers had lived a long life. All the same, it felt as though another part of her childhood had gone.
‘Thank you all for looking after him; I’m pleased he went peacefully.’
Denton arrived, and the welcoming party gravitated towards him. There was a moment when everything faded and nostalgia overwhelmed, so her eyes became blurred.
Whatever happened in the future, she’d always remember her family like this – a combined hug, a babble of voices and love revolving around each another. No matter where they went or what they did, they would always have each other.
She greeted Denton with a hug, and then escaped upstairs.
There was a card from Liam that read: ‘Thinking of you, have a wonderful Christmas, Esmé. Sorry things didn’t work out for us, but perhaps it was for the best. Love always, Liam.’ A photograph slid into her lap. It was a publicity shot. Liam wore a tuxedo and top hat, and was surrounded by long-legged girls dressed in wide smiles, satin tunics and lots of feathers. He looked neat and muscular. His autograph was scrawled across the bottom.
Esmé wished she’d sent him a card. She’d thought to make a clean break, but now knew it was impossible. She couldn’t throw the affection she felt towards him aside like rubbish, or forget it easily. It lingered, like an infection that never quite went away. But the wound of his abrupt departure resurfaced at odd moments, leaving her feeling inadequate.
&nbs
p; She wondered if what Chad had indicated held any truth. Was Liam a man trying to convince himself he was someone else? Her love for him had always been tenuous and she’d been more chagrined than broken-hearted by his abrupt departure from her life. He’d stood on the outside of her family circle, but hadn’t possessed the courage to step inside it.
‘Do you still love Liam?’ Meggie said from the doorway, and Esmé looked up and smiled at her.
‘A little . . . people you’ve known and loved become memories, and you can’t help thinking about them. There was something vulnerable about Liam. It doesn’t hurt so much now.’
Meggie held out the ring she’d given her. ‘Mother said I should give this back. She said you’d probably regret giving it to me because it was a spur of the moment decision. She feels guilty about the break-up.’
‘No . . . you keep it, Meggie. It wasn’t Livia’s fault. I made the decision myself. I could have gone with him.’
‘I’m being horribly selfish, but I’m glad you didn’t.’
‘So am I. We both needed someone, but instinct told me it was not each other.’
Picking up the photo Meggie gazed at it, and giggled. ‘He looks terribly suave and handsome, doesn’t he? Mother would have a fit if she saw you dressed up like those dancing girls. Don’t they look glamorous?’
‘You’re underestimating your mother. As for the dancing girls, they probably ache from head to toe, and have blisters as big as hens’ eggs on their feet. I know I did.’
‘I wonder how many ostriches it took to provide the feathers, the poor creatures. Do you suppose there are bald ostriches running around in the African desert, or do they kill them and pluck them, like we do the Christmas turkey? They’d need a big plate to carve it on. I say . . . I wonder if ostrich feathers grow again?’
That was more like the Meggie she knew. Esmé chuckled, and her niece giggled . . . and then the pair of them started to laugh, just for the fun of being together, and couldn’t stop for a long time.
The clockwork train she’d bought for the boys was a great success. ‘It’s not very big, but it’s a Hornby, and there’s a catalogue. If you like it you can add to it. Perhaps have pieces as gifts for birthdays and Christmas. They have electrical powered trains as well, but I remembered you were still on gas.’
‘Not for much longer, thank goodness,’ Livia said with a smile. ‘We’re converting to electricity next year.’
Esmé had added an engine driver’s hat and a whistle in a package for Denton. Denton blew her a kiss. There was an enquiry in Livia’s eyes at she gazed at her husband.
He grinned at her. ‘I told Es of my secret yearning to be a train driver. I have fond memories of trains, because that’s where I first met you,’ and he leaned forward and kissed her, making her blush.
‘It’s super,’ Meggie exclaimed when she saw the green leather journal Esmé had bought her. It came complete with brass lock and key. Eyes shining, she went upstairs with it.
The boys headed up to the attic with the train set, with Chad offering to help them set it up. The older Dr Elliot fell asleep in his chair despite the thumping from above as the attic was converted into Waterloo station without the trimmings.
Helen Elliot began to tidy up the kitchen.
Shadow appeared with his leash, and Esmé fetched her hat and coat. ‘Come on then. I need to walk off the Christmas pudding. Leave that for me to do,’ she told Helen when they went through to the kitchen.
‘No . . . I can do it, dear. I was going to ask that niece of yours, but no . . . she went rushing past and said she was going to try out the bicycle Denton had bought her for Christmas. I don’t see why she couldn’t have been given your brother’s old bike. A lick of paint would have made it look like new.’
Esmé could have given her plenty of reasons why not, the chief amongst them being that Chad’s bike had seen some rough usage over the years, and was too old and rusty, and the wheels were warped. But she didn’t want to upset the woman.
‘You should relax after dinner, like everyone else is. Why don’t you leave this. I’ll do it when I come back.’
‘I like to keep busy.’
‘Yes . . . I know, but there’s really no need to do everything at once. Livia invites you for Christmas because she wants your company, not your skills as a pot cleaner. Leave it. I’ll catch Meggie up, and when we come back we’ll do it, like we intended to do in the first place.’
Helen dried her hands on the tea towel and smiled. ‘Very well, you’re a thoughtful girl, Esmé. Thank you.’
There was no sign of Meggie on the road ahead. Esmé picked up speed, with Shadow trotting beside her. Now she was home it seemed as though she’d never been away. But she would go away again. She’d decided to go back to Australia on the Horizon Queen. This time she’d stay longer and keep Minnie company, like they’d intended at the beginning.
Her friend had put on a brave face the last time she’d seen her, but apart from the unreliable Wally, she had nobody close she could turn to.
Deep in thought she nearly missed seeing Meggie’s bicycle hidden behind a shrub outside Nutting Cottage. As she stopped to gaze at it, the door opened and Meggie came out.
Esmé ducked behind the privet hedge when Meggie called out, ‘Goodbye, Grandfather. I hope you enjoy the book, and you like Agatha Christie. It’s called The Hound of Death.’
‘Thank you, dear. It sounds very exciting so I’m sure I shall. Happy Christmas. I’ve left a small gift for you at the house.’
‘Don’t forget to listen to the King George’s speech on the radio.’
The major shuffled forward into the light. ‘I won’t forget.’
Esmé hadn’t seen Major Henry for a long time, and she was appalled. He was very thin and there was a telltale bluish tinge to his lips.
Shadow had gone on ahead, and Esmé quickly followed him. She drew him into a hedge, one hand over his snout and the other holding his collar. As Meggie peddled past them at speed he strained to escape and run after her.
Meggie had dropped her bicycle in the grass, and had run around to the back of Foxglove House, leaving the long grass flattened where she’d trod. Following her niece Esmé discovered the back door unlocked, and went in.
It was dark inside, but the faint glow of a torch lit Esmé’s way through to the drawing room.
Meggie was in the process of unwrapping a small parcel. She gasped at what it contained, and breathed, ‘How pretty.’
‘Does your mother know you come here?’ Esmé asked quietly.
A frightened yelp came her way, but Meggie recovered quickly. ‘No, she doesn’t. Why are you spying on me?’
‘I’m not. I’m taking Shadow for a walk, and I saw you come out of Nutting Cottage.’
‘Please don’t tell Mother. She’ll be furious.’
‘It’s not like you to be deceitful, Meggie.’
‘My mother said he’s mentally ill, but I don’t believe her.’ She smiled and held out a silver locket. ‘My grandfather gave me this. It has his photograph inside it. Promise you won’t tell mother.’
She nodded. ‘What are you doing in Foxglove House?’
‘Why shouldn’t I be here, when it’s my house? I come here and practise the piano. It’s always so quiet and peaceful . . . and sometimes I want to be alone. Besides . . . there are reminders of my father here. Sometimes I can feel his presence. He’d already died when I was born, you know. I like to think that his spirit is still here, and this is the only place where he can see me. I know it sounds stupid, but sometimes I talk to him. I do wish I’d known him.’
‘Richard was a sweet man; you would have adored him. You’d better hide that locket else your mother will want to know where you got it. You can keep it in my jewellery box if you like. I’ll show you how to open the secret drawer. Come on . . . let’s go now. We have the washing-up to do between us.’
Meggie groaned. ‘You won’t tell on me, will you?’
‘I promise.’
&nbs
p; As they headed home Esmé wondered what to do. She couldn’t encourage Meggie to deceive her mother. Then again, she’d promised her niece she wouldn’t tell Livia.
‘Why don’t you ride the bike and I’ll sit on the rack at the back,’ Meggie said. ‘It will get us there quicker.’
They wobbled all over the road to start with, but soon got the hang of it and began to sing Christmas carols with Shadow dodging from one side to the other and barking.
The day before Esmé was due back on board, and when they were waiting in the hall for the others to join them to walk to church, Esmé managed to catch Denton alone.
It was unfair to ruin his Sunday with this, she thought, especially since she’d been told in no uncertain fashion that the relationship between Livia and her headstrong daughter was not her business.
There was trepidation in her when she said cautiously, ‘If you were the recipient of an unwanted confidence that could affect the relationship of two people you love, and you didn’t have enough information to make a wise decision of how to handle it, what would you do, Denton?’
His eyes sharpened. ‘It would depend on the two people concerned. Define the problem a little, please.’
‘I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t, would cover the situation adequately.’
‘I can sense Meggie’s hand in this, and Livia. You’re the meat in the sandwich . . . yes?’
‘Potted tongue would be a better description.’
He laughed. ‘Then leave it potted. There’s very little that goes on that we don’t get to hear about, and where Livia and Meggie are concerned, things usually end up sorting themselves out without any help. Meggie has been listening to idle gossip, I suppose.’
He was making it obvious he didn’t welcome her advice. ‘May I ask you something, Denton?’
He gave a wary nod.
‘Why isn’t Meggie allowed to visit her grandfather? You’ve said yourself that he’s harmless?’
The sigh he gave was heavy. ‘You must know by now that I won’t answer that particular question.’
The conversation broke off as the boys came clattering down the stairs. Luke grimaced as he said, ‘Do we have to go to church?’
