The Fairbairn Fortunes

by Una-Mary Parker

  Their mother was dozing when they tiptoed into her room but she sensed their presence and opened her eyes. ‘What are you doing here, Laura?’ she asked and Laura was shocked by the frailty in her voice. Margaret Rothbury normally had a powerful voice that often reached formidable volumes. Now she sounded like a very weak old lady, which, Laura suddenly realized, she in fact was.

  ‘I decided to take a few days off from work so I’ve come to see you,’ Laura replied. ‘How are you feeling, Mama? Catriona tells me you haven’t been very well,’ she added, keeping her own voice light and breezy.

  ‘You mean you’ve come all this way to see me before I die,’ Lady Rothbury said with a faint touch of her usual acerbity. ‘There’s no point in denying it and I’m very glad to see you.’

  ‘Doctor Harvey says you just need a few days’ rest,’ Catriona said firmly.

  Her mother smiled wanly. ‘There’s no point in denying the truth, darling. Your father came to see me last night and he wanted me to go home with him.’

  Catriona and Laura exchanged knowing looks. It wasn’t the first time Lady Rothbury had seen ghosts and it was proof to her that there was life after death. After Eleanor was killed she had sworn for weeks that she’d seen her ghost in the garden near the Rowan tree.

  ‘What did Papa say?’ Laura asked.

  ‘He said it was time that I went with him.’

  Catriona asked, ‘What did you reply, Mama?’

  ‘I told him I wasn’t ready. But now, I think I am.’

  London, 1920

  Beattie knocked on the dressing-room door at eight o’clock the next morning. She was loath to wake up Andrew but he had to be told what had happened.

  ‘Andrew? Are you awake? I’ve had an urgent telephone call from Laura. My mother had another sort of heart attack in the night and she is seriously ill. I’ve got to leave to be with her. Lizzie and Humphrey are picking me up and we’re catching a train.’

  Andrew appeared in the doorway, his face wrecked by grief and exhaustion, but he rallied, looking at her sympathetically. ‘Do you want me to come with you? I can be ready in just a jiffy.’

  She looked surprised. ‘No, you can’t possibly come,’ she exclaimed in a practical voice. ‘You’ve got problems of your own.’ There was a courteous calm between them, as if the past was the past. He’d lost the woman he’d loved and his longed-for baby boy, and she was about to lose her beloved mother.

  ‘I’m sorry. So very sorry,’ he blurted out. ‘Is there anything I can do?’

  ‘Can you keep an eye on the children? I’ve told Nanny why I’m rushing off but the girls don’t know about their grandmother. I’ll …’ Her voice broke. ‘I’ll tell them when I return.’

  Andrew ran his hand through his tousled hair in a gesture of despair. ‘Poor Beattie. Keep in touch, won’t you?’

  She averted her face and wondered which of them was suffering the most. ‘’Bye,’ she said in a muffled voice as she turned to go downstairs. Her lady’s maid had done her packing, quickly collecting together some black dresses, stockings, hats and gloves. Lizzie and Humphrey would be arriving in their chauffeur-driven Rolls-Royce in a few minutes and she was profoundly thankful not to have to travel all the way to Scotland alone. They would get there in time to tell Mama how much they’d always loved her.

  As they drove to the station, Lizzie turned to Beattie and said, ‘Does Andrew even know you’re going away? Or is he too busy looking after the pregnant Miss Cooper?’

  Beattie’s face betrayed no emotion. Through clenched jaws, she replied, ‘Miss Cooper and her baby son died yesterday evening. I don’t wish to talk about it.’

  Lizzie and Humphrey shared a shocked look. Then, pulling herself together, Lizzie declared briskly, ‘Right! Then we won’t.’

  The Manse, the next evening

  Extra chairs had been brought into Lady Rothbury’s bedroom as the eight sisters drifted in and out of the room, talking quietly while their mother slept, then saying a few comforting words to her when she awoke. The local doctor called morning and evening, pronouncing her to be a basically strong woman with a will of iron but a heart which could no longer support her.

  ‘Hopefully she’ll slip away in her sleep,’ he told the family, ‘and it could be at any time.’

  Two nurses worked in shifts to give her blanket baths and sips of beef tea and to make sure she was comfortable. While all the sisters hovered around, the husbands went for walks with Catriona’s spaniels or they sat in the study, talking and putting the world to rights. Everyone met for lunch while one of the nurses sat beside Lady Rothbury’s bed having promised to alert them if there was any change in Her Ladyship’s condition. An atmosphere of resignation and calm pervaded the house as each sister began to accept that one day everyone has to die.

  ‘Did you know that Andrew’s mistress has died?’ Lizzie whispered to Diana when they were alone.

  ‘No! When did this happen?’

  ‘Very recently. Don’t mention it, though. Beattie doesn’t want to talk about it. She was looking very shaken when we picked her up in the car. The baby apparently died also.’

  Diana looked shocked. ‘How terrible,’ she said gravely. Then, after a long pause, ‘I wonder what’s going to happen to her marriage now? No wonder she looks so depressed. What a terrible time she’s having. First her husband wants a divorce and now Mama is so ill.’

  ‘We live so near to each other in London. I’ll do what I can to comfort her,’ Lizzie promised.

  It was at eleven o’clock that night, shortly after everyone had gone to bed, that the housekeeper was asked by the nurse on duty to inform everyone that Her Ladyship was suffering from another attack of cardio failure and that the family should go to her bedside quickly.

  ‘Laura, is that you?’ Catriona asked in a small but calm voice as Laura entered the darkened room, lit only by candles.

  ‘Yes, darling, I’m here,’ Laura replied, stretching forward to put her arm around Catriona’s shoulders.

  Their mother was propped up by pillows as she struggled to breathe, gasping frantically for air. The doctor was standing on the other side of the bed, looking grim as he felt her wrist for her pulse.

  ‘I’ve given her the medication which has worked in the past but her pulse is very weak. I think she’ll fall asleep in a little while.’

  The room was full by now as her daughters and sons-in-law gathered silently around the bed. Georgie was weeping silently and Shane had his arm around her, while Robert was holding Diana’s hand. Beattie, Lizzie and Humphrey stood at the foot of the bed while the youngest two, Flora and Alice, stood on either side of the Reverend Colin Maitland, who would conduct his mother-in-law’s funeral.

  The doctor slipped out of the room, signalling the nurse to come with him.

  ‘I think we should wait outside to let the family say their goodbyes in private,’ he whispered to the nurse. ‘There’s absolutely nothing more I can do.’

  She nodded in silent understanding. The moment of death should be a private matter.

  The funeral of Margaret, Countess of Rothbury, was, in contrast, a very public affair. The aristocracy of Scotland and England attended, the wreaths and bouquets of flowers overwhelming the small local cemetery of Lochlee Church, where she was to be buried within sight of Lochlee Castle.

  The sisters, all in black, were the last to arrive in the packed church. Apart from their many friends, the people of Rothbury had turned up as well to line the short route from the manse to St Mark’s and the family were expected to acknowledge their presence. Beattie clung to Lizzie’s arm, a wan and lonely figure, with Humphrey following.

  Suddenly Beattie felt her other arm taken in a strong grip. A second later she found herself looking into Andrew’s face, but set in a much-altered expression, miles away from the arrogant and boastful man she knew so well. When he spoke, his voice was filled with humble regret and his whole demeanour was earnest.

  ‘Please allow me to escort you on this very pa
inful occasion,’ he said softly, offering her his arm. There was a silent pause and Beattie looked into his eyes. When her mother had died five nights ago she’d cried all through the small hours, not only grieving for the mother she’d lost but because there was no one beside her to comfort her in her hour of need.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said politely as she took his arm.

  At precisely ten thirty the next morning Mr Stuart McTavish, Lady Rothbury’s lawyer, arrived at the manse to read her Last Will and Testament. All the family had assembled in the drawing room and the atmosphere was relaxed now that the funeral was over. Andrew and Beattie sat together on a sofa while the others hid their surprise that he was there at all. Laura sat next to Catriona, who was the worst affected by her mother’s death and kept dabbing her eyes with a lace-edged handkerchief.

  Mr McTavish opened his briefcase and extracted several sheets of paper, pinned together and covered in small, neat writing.

  ‘Can I ask exactly when Lady Rothbury made this will?’ Humphrey inquired.

  ‘And you are?’ Mr McTavish insolently asked, annoyed that his big moment was being stolen from him, especially by an Englishman.

  ‘I’m Humphrey Garding. I’m married to Lady Elizabeth.’

  ‘Lady Rothbury made this will in October of last year, Sir Humphrey. Now, may we continue?’ he asked with a touch of sarcasm.

  Robert’s eyes twinkled. ‘By all means.’

  Mr McTavish started to read in a flat voice. ‘I hereby revoke former wills and testamentary dispositions made by me. I appoint my son-in-law Robert Lord Kelso and my son-in-law Sir Humphrey Garding as joint trustees of this my will herein after called my trustees.’ There was a pause and then he started listing the eight sisters and what had been bequeathed to them. Paintings, antique furniture, jewellery, valuable books, furs and silver was to be scattered among them all and the look of horror and shock on Catriona’s face was increasing with every bequest. The contents of her home were about to be spread among her seven sisters and she’d find it robbed of everything she held dear.

  Worse was to come. Mr McTavish was only warming up, relishing the drama of the situation.

  ‘The manse is to be sold outright …’

  There were gasps of shock and Catriona turned pale.

  The lawyer paused, then continued. ‘The money raised by the sale of the house together with the money in my bank account is to be evenly divided between three of my daughters who have not got the support of rich husbands. The beneficiaries from the sale of the manse, and the Countess of Rothbury’s personal funds plus the sale of unwanted furniture and other artefacts are to be equally shared between Lady Laura Leighton-Harvey, Lady Flora Fairbairn and Lady Catriona Fairbairn. The sum they should each receive should be substantial enough for each of the beneficiaries to buy modest houses for themselves and acquire the standard of living they were brought up to expect.’

  Mr McTavish adjusted his spectacles and looked at the assembled family.

  Robert was the first to speak. ‘Quite right too,’ he said stoutly. ‘Our wives will all be looked after by us. It’s right that Laura, Flora and Catriona should be looked after.’

  ‘Mama knew what she was doing. What a splendid will,’ Humphrey echoed. ‘It is the unmarried girls who need financial support. It’s obvious she gave the whole matter a great deal of thought.’

  ‘I’m so glad,’ Shane exclaimed. ‘I was always worried about the future, when you get too old to work,’ he added, looking frankly at Laura. ‘And Flora can’t go on teaching for ever. This provides for the three of you and it’ll make you feel secure.’

  Flora nodded. ‘It’s wonderful of Mama to make this provision for us.’ She turned to Catriona. ‘Aren’t you thankful that you don’t have to remain in this dismal old house for the rest of your life?’

  ‘Not really,’ Catriona replied in a small voice. ‘It’s my home.’

  ‘Your real home, our real home, was Lochlee Castle. You’ve only been here for ten years and it’s so gloomy,’ Flora argued. ‘Now we can buy lovely cottages and do them up how we want. I can’t wait.’

  Laura sat listening to them and their different attitudes to the future. For her it was like a dream and as soon as Caroline’s season in pantomime was over she could tell everyone what she’d been secretly planning for some time. Lack of money had prevented her from going ahead and now she privately thanked her mother from the bottom of her heart for making a dream come true.

  Andrew was not going to be left out of praising his mother-in-law. ‘What a remarkable lady she was.’ He turned to Beattie. ‘And what wonderful daughters she had too.’ Beattie smiled politely but remained silent.

  Only Catriona seemed upset. ‘Where shall I go?’ she kept saying. ‘I thought I’d always stay here for the rest of my life.’

  Diana and Robert immediately offered her a home with them, and Georgie suggested she live in one of Shane’s pubs.

  ‘You’d make a fine barmaid,’ Shane told her. ‘The punters would love you and you’re still young. You might even meet Mr Right,’ he added jovially.

  Catriona shuddered. She never wanted to get married. The things that went on in a bedroom between married couples both terrified and disgusted her.

  ‘I don’t think so,’ she cried, before bursting into noisy tears as she ran out of the room.

  ‘Shane, you great lummock!’ Georgie scolded. ‘Can’t you see she’s still upset? She’s always been sensitive and she’d hate working in a pub. She’s led a very sheltered life, you know.’

  ‘Too sheltered,’ Flora observed regretfully. ‘In the past I’ve offered her the chance to work in the school. She speaks fluent French thanks to the French governess we had but she refused, saying she had to stay at home to look after Mama, although there are plenty of servants here.’

  ‘She’d have meant as a companion,’ Diana pointed out gently.

  ‘All the more reason why she should get off her backside now and do something interesting with her life,’ Georgie retorted.

  ‘Catriona is fragile because Mama has just died. She needs time to adjust. We’ve all got families to go home to. She has no one. Mama was her life from the moment she was born until six days ago. It’s going to take time for Catriona to get used to that.’

  ‘I wish she’d come and stay with us,’ Diana said.

  Alice, the quiet one in the family, looked at her husband. ‘Look, Colin and I live a few minutes’ walk away. We’ll make a point of calling to see her every day, and she can come and have lunch or supper with us several times a week. As you say, what she needs is time to process this. And we’ll be here to offer her support if she needs it.’

  ‘Absolutely,’ Colin agreed. ‘We’ll take care of her and she’ll be in our prayers.’

  There were murmurs of gratitude from the others. Beattie rose from her chair, saying, ‘I’m going out for a little walk. Does anyone else feel like getting a breath of fresh air?’

  Before anyone could answer, Andrew jumped to his feet with alacrity, saying, ‘I’ll go with you, Beattie. Look, the sun’s shining! Let’s go.’

  The family watched them leave in silence, inwardly speculating what the future held for them but knowing that as Beattie’s family they would give her their support no matter what.

  Spring was approaching and the garden surrounding the manse was about to become a bower of daffodils and apple blossom. Lady Rothbury had loved the garden more than the house and she’d placed benches here and there so she could sit and admire the displays of flowers that flourished in the harsh Highland climate.

  As they walked side by side in silence, Beattie turned to Andrew. There was something she needed to know. It had been on her mind ever since he’d turned up on the way to the church the day before. In fact, it suddenly mattered enormously, and his answer could change everything. It had kept her awake for most of the night and now she had to know.

  ‘Andrew, did you go to her funeral?’

  He looked stunned by t
he question and a shadow passed over his face.

  ‘Her family banned me from coming anywhere near them, and they most certainly didn’t want me at the funeral. They accused me of being an absolute rotter. And they were right.’

  There was a pause and, looking up at him, Beattie saw his grey eyes were over-bright. ‘They tore me off a strip,’ he continued painfully, ‘and blamed me for ruining her life and all sorts of other brutal things which I fully admitted to. Beattie, my darling, I behaved shamefully towards you, but if you feel you can take me back, I’ll swear on our children’s lives that I will never even look at another woman. It will never happen again. It was an utter moment of madness on my part which I bitterly regret. Can you forgive me? I still love you, and I’d like nothing more than to stay with you for ever.’

  Beattie looked steadily at him, saying nothing herself but listening to what he had to say and wondering if her feelings towards him would change.

  Andrew continued in a low voice, ‘I know how much I hurt you. I know I deserve to be shunned for ever by your entire family, but if you have it in your heart to forgive me I’ll do everything within my power to make you happy, because I love you, Beattie.’

  ‘Everything is happening so fast, Andrew, and Mama’s sudden death has been such a shock. I’m not sure what I feel about the future. I need time. I can’t take it all in, just like that.’

  ‘I understand, and losing your mother is a terrible shock. You can take as long as you like and I can only live in the hope that we’ll be a couple again.’

  That night Andrew slept in the dressing room again and left at dawn to catch a train back to London, saying he had an important business meeting to attend.

  The next day the sisters started making arrangements to return to their own homes. Laura in particular was anxious to get back to see if Caroline was all right. Diana and Robert wanted to get back to their children but Catriona was delaying them by refusing to go and stay with them.