Yew Tree Gardens

by Anna Jacobs

It felt like another hurdle overcome to Gil.

  More silence as his father took a cup of tea from his wife, sipping appreciatively. ‘Well, the new cook can make a good cup of tea. I’ll say that for her.’

  ‘Yes, delicious. And I’m glad to see you looking more like your old self than you have since the accident, Gil dear,’ his mother said. ‘I’m so pleased for you about this inheritance.’

  His father handed her his cup for a refill. ‘How much do you think the house is worth?’

  ‘I don’t know and it doesn’t matter, because I don’t intend to sell it.’

  ‘You can’t hide away, boy. You need to come out and face the world again.’

  ‘I’m not planning to hide away, but this is a lovely house in a beautiful part of England. I shall enjoy living here.’

  ‘But it’s miles away from anywhere. You’ll surely want to live nearer your family?’

  He didn’t, had never got on particularly well with his brothers, but he wasn’t cruel enough to say so to his parents. ‘The truth is, I fell in love with Oakdene, so I’m planning to modernise it gradually and settle down here permanently.’

  His father leant back, baffled. ‘Well, that’ll certainly keep you occupied, given the state it’s in. But I still think you should live nearer home.’

  ‘Bertram dear, this is Gil’s home now.’ His mother set down her empty cup. ‘I’d love a tour of your house now, if that’s all right with you, dear.’

  ‘Of course. And if you have any suggestions for refurbishing it, I’ll be happy to listen. I don’t intend to spend much money at first, though. I need to see how I go on.’

  Was this him talking? he wondered. He sounded so serious, unlike his former self. He sounded, he realised suddenly, grown-up. And about time too.

  He listened to his mother’s suggestions, surprised at how practical some of them were, and interrupted her to fetch a notebook.

  ‘Women always know best about household details,’ his father said complacently.

  ‘I’ll come down to stay for a few days next time your father’s away and help you plan the furnishings,’ she said. ‘If you’ll have me.’

  ‘I’d love to have you and shall welcome your help with the house.’

  Afterwards the two men walked round the outside of the house, and here Gil didn’t mind listening to his father’s advice.

  ‘It looks pretty sound, structurally. What happened to that window? You’ll have to repaint the frame.’

  ‘It got broken.’ Gil hurried along to the side door.

  ‘This is rotten and will need replacing,’ his father said. ‘Not worth repainting.’

  The poor state of the door distracted him from asking Gil how the window had got broken, thank goodness.

  ‘You’ll have to keep an eye on this side of the house. Gets all the weather, I should think. The woodwork will need painting more often.’

  Gil had never thought about that sort of thing and looked at the house with new eyes. He felt ashamed of how focused he’d been on horses and hunting, how he’d never earned any money. His parents had pretended he was going to set up a stud and breed sound riding horses for children, but he hadn’t even tried to get started.

  After listening to the horse he’d killed giving out muffled groans as it struggled to cope with the pain – horses were such stoic animals – Gil hadn’t felt he deserved to ride one again. Which was foolish. He’d need a couple of horses, at least one of them suitable for a trap. Or maybe … maybe he really would buy a motor car. He could look into that.

  Excitement filled him. Something different. He’d learn about cars. He wondered if he’d be able to drive one. It might be fun.

  When he and his father went back inside the house, Walter came in to offer a light luncheon. ‘Not what you’re used to, Mrs Rycroft, but Mrs Hilton can provide sandwiches and an apple pie with cream. Our own apples, too.’

  ‘We shall be delighted to take luncheon here.’

  When the car came to collect them at three o’clock, Gil breathed a sigh of relief. As he handed his mother into it, she whispered, ‘Not too bad, eh? I’ll send the rest of your things down.’

  ‘You’re smiling,’ Walter said as Gil came back into the house.

  ‘It went better than I expected with Father, thanks mainly to Mother. I hadn’t really noticed before how much she controls him.’

  ‘She’s a very clever woman, your mother is. We servants have always admired her. Yet she never raises her voice, not to anyone. But you held firm against your father today, too. I was pleased to see that.’

  ‘It gives you heart, having a house of your own. We’ll have to make a start on the job of telling people about the legacies tomorrow. I was going to do that today.’

  ‘I thought we were going into London to see about exercises and special footwear tomorrow?’

  ‘Oh, yes. The day after, then.’ Gil smiled at his friend. ‘It’s good to have plenty to do. I’m not the sort to sit around and read books.’

  Walter found it necessary to blow his nose vigorously at that comment. He didn’t say anything, but he patted his lad’s hand a couple of times.

  Going up to London wasn’t easy without a vehicle to drive them to Wootton Bassett Station. Lizzie said the landlord of the Gaudy Pheasant had a gig he hired out, so Walter went into the village to see if it was free.

  He came back furious, because the landlord said it’d been hired already. ‘I asked him how about tomorrow and he said it was hired then, as well. I asked about every day this week, same answer.’

  ‘Giving us the cold shoulder, eh? Did you get any hint about why?’

  ‘No. When I asked outright, he said he was a busy man and hadn’t time to chat.’

  ‘Let’s ask Lizzie and Mrs Hilton if they know of any other vehicle for hire,’ Walter said. ‘Perhaps in Bassett – that’s what the locals call Wootton Bassett.’

  Gil looked at his leg ruefully. ‘I can’t walk into Bassett, and I doubt you can, either.’

  Walter shot a quick glance sideways.

  ‘I’ve noticed that you’re not as spry as you used to be, and you get breathless if you have to do too much.’

  Silence, then, ‘Well, I am seventy-six, you know.’

  Gil was surprised. ‘I didn’t realise you were that old.’

  Walter shrugged. ‘You don’t tell an employer how old you are, in case he sacks you.’

  ‘Father would never have sacked you.’

  ‘He might have found me easier duties, and I didn’t want the humiliation of that in a place where I’d run the stables.’

  ‘Well, your age makes no difference to your job here. Let’s ask Cook if she knows anyone with a vehicle to hire.’

  Mrs Hilton said bluntly, ‘No one will hire to you, sir. They’re afraid of the others in the village refusing to deal with them if they do.’

  ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘Chapman. Most of them will come round once they get to know you, but it’ll take time.’

  Lizzie cleared her throat. ‘We could send my brother Don into Wootton Bassett, sir. It’s only about three miles. He can walk it easy. And no one will dare pick on him for going, because he’s a big lad for his age and knows how to look after himself.’

  ‘I’ll pay him for his trouble. Five shillings, do you think?’

  She went bright pink. ‘Oooh, thank you, sir. That’ll be lovely. Mam will be that pleased! He hasn’t been able to find steady work, let alone get into a trade, which she was hoping for till she found out you have to pay for that.’

  Young Don was happy to walk three miles to the nearest town for that generous payment and set off at once.

  ‘We need to buy a horse and trap straight away,’ Walter said. ‘I’ll start looking round for one as soon as we get back. In the meantime we can perhaps hire one by the week from a livery stable in Bassett.’

  After the freshness of the Wiltshire countryside, London seemed dirtier and busier than ever. They took a motor cab to the sho
emaker Mr Seaborne had recommended and Gil watched in fascination as the driver manipulated the gear lever and brakes.

  The shoemaker studied Gil’s foot and leg with calm interest and made him walk up and down, first in his shoes, then barefoot.

  ‘I’ll make you one pair to start off with,’ he decided. ‘If they’re comfortable, we’ll give you your own cast and then you need only send me word when you want new shoes. I’ll furnish you with a list of the styles we make. The first pair will be ready next week, but I’ll need you to try them on this time.’

  ‘Can’t it be sooner?’ Gil pleaded.

  The man shook his head. ‘I have a queue, sir. I’m sorry to keep you waiting, but it’s only fair to take customers as they come. I could work more quickly, but good apprentices are hard to find, so I’ve not got as much help as I’d like.’

  That made Gil think about Lizzie’s lively younger brother. She said Don could only find temporary jobs and was longing to be old enough to join the army, which upset her mother.

  ‘Would you be able to house a country lad?’ he asked.

  The shoemaker looked at him. ‘You know someone?’

  ‘I think so. Our maid’s brother seems a bright lad. I’d pay his premium for him.’

  ‘I’ll give him a week’s trial. It’s what I always do. They have to be able to get on with customers, you see, because people get upset about their problems. Bring him along with you when you pick up the shoes and we’ll see what he looks like. But I warn you, I’ll send him back if he isn’t suitable.’

  They shook hands on this.

  The man who would provide Gil with exercises to help his leg, and possibly his arm, was equally busy, but agreed, just this once, to give up part of his lunch hour to get his new patient started. His assistant could finish the session off.

  Afterwards, Gil looked at Walter with a wry smile. ‘I’m aching after all that stretching and all I really want now is to go home. Strange, isn’t it? I already think of Oakdene as home.’

  ‘That’s a good thing. Everyone needs a home.’

  As they stood on the pavement, trying to hail a cab, one stopped next to them and a woman poked her head out of the window. ‘It is you, Gil Rycroft.’

  He looked at her in puzzlement for a few seconds, then realised who she was. ‘Julia! My goodness, how you’ve changed! Your hair’s so short.’

  She patted it and smiled. ‘It’s called “bobbed”. I had it done in Paris the first time. It’s more popular there than here, though some of my friends have had their hair cut short since I did, because it’s much easier to manage than all those pads and false pieces of hair.’

  ‘It suits you.’

  ‘Thank you. I heard about the accident. I’m so sorry, Gil. I know what an outdoor type you are.’

  He nodded, swallowing hard. Sympathy from her was particularly hard to bear. He could remember dancing with her, spinning round and round, the pair of them giddy with laughter.

  ‘Have you eaten? No? Then come and have a late lunch with me at the Ritz,’ she coaxed. ‘You can tell me what you’re doing with yourself.’

  He hesitated. He’d once made a fool of himself over Julia and had no intention of reigniting that flame.

  She seemed to sense his hesitation and said brightly, ‘Don’t be silly. That soppy stuff was all over and done with a long time ago. But we’re still good friends, surely?’

  ‘Of course we are.’

  She looked beyond him to Walter. Gil hesitated, wondering what to do about his friend during lunch, but as usual, the matter was taken out of his hands. ‘I’ll ride to the hotel with you and Miss Gardiner, if that’s all right, then find myself somewhere else to eat. I don’t know if you remember me, miss, but—’

  Julia smiled. ‘Oh, yes. I remember you very clearly, Walter Bilham. The best groom there ever was, my father used to say.’

  ‘He tried to get me to work for him often enough.’

  ‘Are you working for Gil, now?’

  ‘Sort of—’

  ‘He’s my friend and general factotum,’ Gil interrupted. ‘No one else would live with me and put up with my moods.’

  ‘You mean, you’re doing something unorthodox? I thought the day would never come,’ she teased.

  Once they were seated in the restaurant, Julia said simply, ‘How are you managing, Gil? The truth, mind.’

  ‘Not well at first, but I’m getting used to it now. I’ve had a bit of good luck, for a change.’ He explained about his inheritance.

  ‘Jolly good show! Best thing that could have happened to you, getting out from under your father’s eagle gaze. I thought he’d have got you married to Amelia Frensham by now.’

  ‘I couldn’t. Not that I’m not fond of her, but it’d be like marrying my sister.’

  ‘No other woman on the horizon?’

  He looked at her warily.

  She gave a trill of laughter. ‘Not me, you fool. I don’t want to marry anyone. I’m financially independent too, thanks to my grandmother, and I’ve found a purpose in life … I’ve joined the Women’s Social and Political Union.’

  ‘The Suffragettes!’

  She grimaced. ‘I do wish the Daily Mail hadn’t coined that silly word. It’s how people think of us nowadays. They just don’t take our purpose seriously.’

  ‘I doubt they ever will.’

  Her face grew fierce. ‘You’re wrong. We’re very determined and our numbers are growing all the time. Women of all classes, too. Now that we’ve become more forceful, surely we’re proving that we won’t stop demanding our rights.’ She cocked her head on one side. ‘Where do you stand about votes for women, Gil?’

  ‘I’ve never really thought about it.’

  ‘Then it’s about time you did. Is your mother as intelligent as your father?’

  ‘Far more intelligent.’

  ‘Then why does he have the vote and not her?’

  Gil stared at her. He hadn’t thought of it that way. Hadn’t thought about anything very seriously before his accident. ‘Why indeed?’

  She patted his hand. ‘Maybe there’s hope for you yet, my lad. Now, tell me where exactly this Oakdene of yours is.’

  ‘Near Wootton Bassett, which is south-west of Swindon.’

  She clapped her hands together. ‘I have a friend who lives near there. Jane Walvin. Do you remember her? Wears spectacles.’

  ‘Oh, yes. Rather plain.’

  ‘There you go again. Being pretty isn’t the only important thing for a woman, you know. Jane does a lot of work for women whom other people despise, and I admire her greatly.’

  ‘Fallen women, you mean?’

  ‘They didn’t fall; they were pushed, many of them raped and then cast out by their families. I give Jane money sometimes and help place the women she takes in when I can. If you need housemaids, she could probably find you one. It wouldn’t hurt to try, would it?’

  Gil felt uncomfortable to hear Julia talking so openly about something that wasn’t usually discussed by ladies. He didn’t know what to say.

  She glared at him. ‘I expect you think women who get raped are asking for it. That’s what their families usually say. Even my father does. Only they weren’t asking for it. Most of the ones she’s helped have been battered and bruised by their attackers as they fought back. Is that asking for it?’

  Her eyes were glowing with fervour and he had never admired her more. He wished he could be so forceful and determined.

  ‘You said you needed more staff, Gil. Do you or don’t you?’

  ‘I do.’

  ‘Then I’ll come down and help you find some.’

  ‘I don’t know what I need yet – a housekeeper first of all, I suppose. Then it’ll be up to her. You probably don’t have anyone suitable for that sort of position.’

  ‘Do you think it’s only young women who get attacked? We’ll see if we can find you a housekeeper. I’ll come down to Wiltshire the day after tomorrow.’

  What had he got himself into? But
he could never say no to Julia. And if she was right about these women, well, Miss Bennerden would approve of him helping them, he was sure.

  In an effort to take the scowl from her face, he said, ‘I’m thinking of buying a car, too.’

  ‘That’ll give your father a purple fit.’

  He smiled. ‘Don’t you believe it. Even he sees the benefits of motor cars. He came to see my new house in one.’

  ‘Good for him. My father won’t go near them. You must definitely buy one.’

  ‘I don’t know if I could manage to drive with this.’ He gestured to his left arm.

  ‘You could hire a mechanic to drive you round and look after the motor car. In fact, now I come to think of it, I know someone who might suit.’

  ‘I can find my own mechanic,’ he said hastily.

  ‘Why bother when I know a good one? He’s the brother of a friend in the WSPU. We cross all class boundaries, you know. I’ll see if Horry’s still looking for a job and send him down to talk to you. He’s got a big scar across his face from an accident in his youth, and some people are stupid enough to think that prevents him from being a good chauffeur. But he’s mad about cars. He can also drive a horse and trap, of course.’

  Gil gave up trying to hold out against her. ‘OK. Send him to see me.’

  Julia had always been a managing sort of female, he thought as they said goodbye, but now she had a new maturity and confidence. Was this due to being active in the WSPU? Or just because she was older? It made her even more attractive in some ways, but he couldn’t have lived with a female like her.

  Although Gil’s leg was aching badly as he and Walter set off for the station, it didn’t seem to matter quite so much. Spending time with Julia had cheered him up.

  Chapter Seven

  The following day Gil made a start on visiting the people in and around the village who had been left something in Miss Bennerden’s will. He had a letter from her for each person to whom she’d left money.

  He was more than a little nervous, worried they’d be rude to him, but it had to be done. He didn’t intend to let his benefactress down.

  Lizzie assured him that the first person on the list lived only a few minutes’ away, on this side of the village, if you went by the short cut. He felt he could cope with walking there and back, and had been told to exercise his bad leg more, though only gently at first. He’d do anything, anything at all, to improve the way he walked.