Yew Tree Gardens

by Anna Jacobs

  Renie was sure she must be scarlet, her cheeks felt so hot.

  ‘My dear young lady, this has been very difficult for you and I’m delighted at your self-control. Please take half an hour to compose yourself. Gentlemen, stay with me.’

  When she’d left the room, he said more sharply than usual, ‘If she was your sister or aunt or cousin, how would you feel about the way she’s been treated?’

  Silence greeted his words.

  ‘There is another thing to bear in mind. I very much fear that we are moving towards a war with Germany.’

  Some of them looked at him in shock, some nodded as if they too had come to the same conclusion.

  ‘If that happens, we shall need well-trained young women to take the place of the men who leave to fight for their country, some of whom will not return. But whatever happens, we shall keep the Rathleigh running and serve our customers as best we can. Always think several years ahead, gentlemen. It is forward-thinking people who make progress in the business world.’

  He looked at them over his spectacles. ‘If you have any questions, now is the time to ask.’

  They shook their heads.

  ‘Very well, then. That is all. I’m sure you won’t let me down again. I trust Miss Fuller will be treated with courtesy from now on and taught about the hotel business properly. And let us all pray that war will be averted by those we have elected to govern our country.’

  A chorus of voices said, ‘Amen.’

  After that intervention, Renie found herself so busy she felt like a spinning top. The weeks seemed to whiz past as she moved each week to assist clerks working in customer accounts, supplier accounts, stock keeping, wages, rosters – the list seemed endless.

  One of the men who had been the most scornful said grudgingly at the end of her week with him, ‘You’re a quick learner, I’ll grant you that, Miss Fuller.’

  ‘Why should I not be?’

  ‘My sister can’t add two and seven.’

  ‘I know men who can’t add up, either.’

  He didn’t say anything in answer to that.

  The men didn’t become friendly, though, just polite and helpful when needed. She was still very much the outsider.

  It was a lonely sort of life, both at work and during her leisure hours. She sometimes wondered if her new job was worth it.

  But she was glad to be busy. It kept her mind off her sister. Most of the time, anyway.

  Chapter Eleven

  Gil took a cab to the school where his niece was staying in New York and asked it to wait for him. He left Lizzie sitting in it, ready to join him inside.

  He knocked on the door and explained his purpose to an elderly maid, who showed him into a small sitting room and went to fetch the headmistress.

  Miss Needham was a stern-looking woman in her middle years, and Gil immediately took a dislike to her.

  ‘You will need to find a suitable governess to look after Elizabeth on the way home,’ she said. ‘A man cannot care for a little girl. It would not be decent.’

  ‘I’ve brought a nursemaid who understands children. And my niece is usually called Beth.’

  Miss Needham looked down her nose at him. ‘Surely you owe it to that child’s parents to treat Elizabeth as a gentleman’s daughter? She is of an age for a governess, not a nursemaid.’

  ‘I owe it to her to love her, now that they can’t. Could you please bring her to me?’

  ‘I should prefer not to interrupt lessons. If you come back at four o’clock—’

  Gil kept tight hold of his temper. ‘I want to see Beth now, and if you don’t produce her, I’ll go round this place shouting her name till I find her.’

  Miss Needham drew herself up. ‘In that case, if you’re going to be ungrateful for what we’ve done—’

  ‘I’m quite happy to pay you for your trouble.’

  ‘I shall send the bill to your hotel.’

  So much for philanthropy, he thought.

  Shortly afterwards, a younger woman with a similarly stern expression brought his niece into the room.

  The child was only six. She looked frail and terrified, and her eyes were reddened. His heart went out to her.

  ‘Here is your uncle, Elizabeth.’

  The little girl dropped him a sort of curtsey.

  ‘Have you no word of greeting for him?’

  Gil could control himself no longer. ‘Thank you. If you’ll have her things packed and send them to the hotel, we’ll leave now.’

  The teacher glared at him, hesitated, then left the room.

  He waited till the door had closed behind her, then went to kneel and give Beth a hug. His parents had never cuddled him, but his nursemaid had and sometimes it had been the only thing that comforted him. The convulsive way his little niece clung to him told him he’d done the right thing.

  He tried to stand up, but she whimpered and clung to him more tightly. ‘Come on, darling. Let’s go to the hotel.’

  ‘Am I … coming back here?’

  ‘No, never.’

  She looked at him mutely, then buried her face in his chest, her whole body rigid. ‘I’m sorry. I keep crying. I can’t help it.’

  ‘You can cry as much as you like when you get out of here, but let’s walk out calmly, eh? We’ll show them how brave Rycrofts can be.’ He stood up and wiped her eyes with his handkerchief, dabbed at his own, then led the way outside.

  In the cab, Lizzie was waiting. She started to stretch out her arms to the child, but Gil shook his head, and to his relief, she understood what he was saying. He kept hold of Beth’s hand as they sat down, then introduced Lizzie to her.

  ‘They’re very strict in there,’ he said by way of explanation. ‘Beth knows we aren’t like that.’

  Lizzie looked at him, then the little girl. ‘Children need love,’ she said simply.

  ‘I agree.’ He turned to his niece, who was sitting next to him, pressing close and clutching his hand. ‘Lizzie has come all the way from England to look after you. You’ll like her. She has little brothers and sisters so knows how to play lots of games.’

  ‘My name’s Elizabeth too, only everyone calls me Lizzie,’ the maid volunteered.

  That caught the child’s attention and she stared at the young woman. ‘Why do they call you that?’

  ‘Because my grandma was called Elizabeth.’

  ‘Didn’t you tell them at the school you were usually called Beth?’ Gil asked.

  ‘Yes, but Miss Needham said it was vulgar to shorten names.’

  He couldn’t believe how unkind those women had been to a child who had lost so much. Lizzie’s soft, cheerful voice interrupted his dark thoughts.

  ‘We’ve brought you a lovely doll. I’ll give her to you when we get back to the hotel.’

  Tears welled in Beth’s eyes. ‘I had a doll, but she drowned like Mummy and Daddy and Jennifer. They fell into the water when the boat rocked about. I nearly fell in too, but a man grabbed me and put me in another boat. I haven’t got any toys left now.’

  There was silence while the two adults looked at one another.

  ‘There will be some of your toys at home still. We’ll send for them.’ Gil’s throat was thick with a desire to weep for her. ‘And we’ll buy you some more tomorrow to play with.’ He nearly added ‘on the ship going back’ but stopped himself in time. He was sure she wouldn’t want to go back on a ship, but it was the only way to get home to England.

  ‘Horry will be waiting for us at the hotel,’ Lizzie said. ‘He drives the car for your uncle. He got hurt and his face has a scar on, where the skin was torn, so he looks a bit fierce, but he’s a really nice man.’

  ‘Did you get hurt too?’ Beth asked Gil. ‘You were limping and your arm’s funny.’

  Only a child could say it so bluntly. But he found he preferred her openness. ‘Yes, I got hurt when I fell off a horse, but most of me got better.’

  She nodded, seeming to accept it as normal that people got hurt.

  At the ho
tel they met Horry, who had been out looking at American cars and was full of what he’d seen. ‘Have you ever ridden in a motor car, young lady?’ he asked Beth.

  She shook her head, shyer with him than with Lizzie.

  ‘Then we’ll have to arrange a ride for you and your uncle before we go back.’

  ‘Lizzie too?’

  ‘Of course.’

  Gil felt relief run through him. That comment surely meant Beth had accepted Lizzie, which was so important. Well, how could anyone not accept such a cheerful young woman? She had been the perfect choice to help him with Beth.

  They had a fairly trouble-free journey back to England. Beth clung alternately to Gil and to Lizzie, who shared a cabin with her. The child refused point-blank to go near the rail or even look at the water, if she could help it.

  Gil didn’t force her to do anything she didn’t want. He was already growing to love his niece and wondered why he hadn’t visited Robert and his wife more often – or why they hadn’t tried to invite him, so that their children would know their relatives.

  He found Lizzie sitting outside the cabin one evening after Beth had gone to sleep, so sat on the bench next to her.

  ‘I wonder if you’d like to change jobs and look after Lizzie from now on?’

  She looked surprised, but didn’t hesitate. ‘I’d love to, sir.’

  ‘It’ll mean more money too.’

  ‘I’d do it for the same money. She’s a lovely child and my heart aches for her. A child shouldn’t see her family drown.’ She shivered.

  ‘Thank you, but it’s only fair that you have the usual pay for a nursemaid.’ He saw her frowning and waited for her to speak.

  ‘Won’t your mother mind? Won’t she want to choose the person to look after Beth?’

  ‘I intend to look after my niece myself at Oakdene. And I don’t think my mother will make a fuss, because she’ll be too busy looking after my father.’

  But Lizzie still looked doubtful.

  ‘They’ll have to take that child away from me by force.’ He surprised himself by that, because he’d been hesitating about that decision. Now, it seemed, his heart had taken it for him. He already loved talking to Beth, taking care of her, helping her find her way in a puzzling and hurtful world. He understood how she felt, oh, he definitely did.

  ‘Well, if I’m allowed, sir, I’d love to look after her.’

  He knew Lizzie would do that well in all the ways which mattered. She was young for the job and his mother might try to make a fuss about hiring an ill-educated woman, but he was already sure that Lizzie’s experience as part of a big family, as well as her cheerful attitude to life, would help the little girl to find happiness again. As he was finding happiness in things that had never interested him before, like children and motor cars and helping others.

  When they reached the London house, it was to find that his father had been taken down to Merriton House and his mother had left a message to bring little Elizabeth to them there.

  Surely she should have known that the child was usually called Beth? She was the grandmother, after all, and she’d visited Robert regularly, because he was her favourite child.

  ‘We’ll stay here tonight,’ he told the others. ‘Then we’ll go down to Oakdene. You’ll like my house, Beth. When you’re settled in there, I’ll go and see my mother and father.’

  He saw Lizzie and Horry exchange surprised glances, but pretended not to notice.

  His mind was made up. He already loved Beth like a daughter. Just let them try to take her away from him!

  Renie saw the man she’d met when the news of the Titanic sinking was announced, the one whose brother had been killed. He was getting out of a cab and going into a house on the other side of Yew Tree Gardens. He was holding the hand of a little girl, a child who looked frail and sad, and there were two other people with them.

  Renie caught her breath. Could this be the one she’d read about in the newspaper, the one who’d survived? Her uncle must have gone to New York to fetch her.

  She was sorry when the door closed on them. She’d have liked to find out what had happened.

  Stop being a nosey parker, she told herself. You’ve enough to do without taking on other people’s troubles.

  Her lunch break was over. She had to go back into the office and face the men, who were always hoping to catch her out. She was tired of the struggle, but she wasn’t going to let them drive her away, not when Mr Greaves and Mrs Tolson believed in her.

  It was a week before Gil felt safe leaving Lizzie. At first the child had hovered near him from the moment she got up. But fortunately she took a liking to Walter, as well as Lizzie. The rest of his small staff were looking after her too, so she gradually started spending the occasional half-hour with them.

  He explained to her that he had to go and see her grandmother to make arrangements to look after her from now on.

  ‘She won’t take me away from you, will she?’

  He didn’t dare make promises he might not be able to keep. ‘I’ll try very hard to keep you with me. But even if you have to go and live with her, I’ll come and see you often.’

  ‘I don’t want to live with anyone else.’

  He had already sent a telegram to his mother saying that he felt his niece needed some peace and quiet to help her recover from losing her family.

  The reply was very brief. ‘Bring her here for that.’

  Before he could do anything about his mother, Gil was woken by shouts of ‘Fire! Fire!’ outside the house and got out of bed in such a hurry he staggered across the room and crashed into the tallboy, unable to save himself with his left arm. Cursing his stupid body, he dragged his dressing gown round himself and thrust his feet into his slippers.

  On the landing he bumped into Madge and when he looked along the landing he saw Lizzie standing near the door of Beth’s bedroom.

  ‘Be ready to get Beth out of the house if it catches fire!’ he called and ran awkwardly down the stairs.

  Someone was hammering on the kitchen door. He yanked it open and found the stable lad there.

  ‘Come quick, Mr Rycroft. The stables are on fire, sir. Mr Bilham and Mr Palmer are getting the horses out.’

  Gil hurried across the yard. The horses were upset, but Walter’s voice seemed to soothe them and they were persuaded to let him and Horry lead them out of the stables. They stood shivering at one side of the yard.

  ‘Get a halter on them!’ Walter yelled but the lad was already crossing to the two frightened animals.

  ‘I need to get the car out,’ Horry yelled.

  But Gil grabbed hold of him and held on tight. ‘You’ll not manage it. The fire’s spread to that area.’

  ‘Stand back, lad,’ Walter said. ‘Lives are more important than machines.’

  Horry was still poised as if to run, then he sagged and his shoulders slumped. ‘We’d better all stand back. There isn’t much petrol in it, luckily, but it’s likely to explode.’

  Even as he spoke, there was a whooshing sound and the car began to burn, upholstery and tyres ignited by the fierce flames.

  ‘We can get another one,’ Gil said quietly.

  Horry just shook his head and dashed his sleeve against his eyes. ‘I was fond of her,’ he muttered.

  ‘Can we stop the fire spreading to the rest of the outbuildings, at least?’ Gil asked and watched Horry pull himself together.

  ‘There aren’t enough of us to form much of a bucket line. Best to let that end part burn and try to stop it spreading further along.’ He ran to dip a bucket in the water barrel that caught rainwater from the stable roof and moved across to sling it against the leading edge of the flames.

  Gil tried to do the same, but couldn’t heft the bucket high enough. And Walter could only lift half-full buckets.

  ‘Better stand back, sir, Walter. Me and the lad will do our best,’ Horry said.

  But it wasn’t good enough and Gil watched helplessly as the wooden stable doors started burning. In
a minute the hay store would catch light.

  Suddenly there were yells and people came running along the short cut from the village, carrying empty buckets.

  ‘We’re the fire guards,’ one man panted. ‘Where’s the water?’

  Horry told him and almost before he’d finished speaking they’d formed a chain from the outside tap as well as the water barrel. Buckets were soon being passed from hand to hand. The group of men seemed to know what they were doing so Gil kept back, feeling bitter about being so useless.

  It was touch and go for a while, but gradually the men’s efforts stopped the fire from spreading to the hay store and they began to hurl water on the burning beams at one side of the stables.

  It was nearly dawn before they’d got the blaze completely under control.

  One of the men, unrecognisable with a blackened face, came up to Gil. ‘Sorry we couldn’t save that end part, sir. And I see you lost your motor car.’

  He realised from the man’s educated tone that it was the curate. ‘I’m grateful you could save anything.’

  ‘We have a village fire team. I got the idea in my last placement and it’s paid off before, so the men take it seriously.’ He wiped his forehead.

  ‘I’d be happy to make a contribution to your funds, or buy you some equipment. You’ve saved me a lot of money and trouble today.’

  ‘I hope you’re insured.’

  ‘Yes, of course. But if it hadn’t been for you and your men, it could have been much worse.’

  Madge came out of the kitchen. ‘I’ve made a big pot of tea. Anyone thirsty?’

  There were a few cheers at this.

  ‘Come inside,’ Gil said.

  The curate smiled, his teeth shockingly white against his smoke-blackened face. ‘We’re too dirty. If someone could bring it out?’

  ‘I can help with that,’ Walter said.

  Gil found the tea trolley and was able to help get it over the threshold to the outside, then they placed two huge teapots, a monster milk jug and a big bowl of sugar on it. There were some mugs and Walter had another fistful dangling by their handles from his hands.