The Fairbairn Fortunes

Home > Other > The Fairbairn Fortunes > Page 11
The Fairbairn Fortunes Page 11

by Una-Mary Parker


  ‘Then do it now. Everyone is here, making plans and it’s only fair that you should inform them as soon as possible,’ Mr McTavish advised.

  ‘You’re right.’ Looking grim, Colin rose to his feet and went over to where his wife was sitting. Alice looked up at him. ‘What is it, dearest?’

  ‘I have to tell everyone something very important before you all make plans for Catriona’s funeral,’ he replied. Robert and Humphrey overheard and there was soon silence in the room as the family looked up expectantly.

  ‘I’m sorry to have to do this,’ Colin began nervously, ‘but what you don’t realize is that we can’t have a traditional funeral for poor Catriona.’

  There were muffled gasps of surprise but before anyone could question his pronouncement he swiftly added: ‘I’m afraid that a person who has taken their own life is not permitted to be buried on consecrated ground. That is what the Bible says and that’s what the Church of England stands by. We’re going to have to find a beautiful spot and I will do all I can to …’

  His words were drowned by exclamations of horror and sorrow. At that moment, Mr McTavish spoke, ruling out any lingering hope they might have of laying Catriona to rest in the grounds of the house she so loved. ‘I got in touch with the new owner of the manse and the extensive garden, but he refused to consider a burial here. We must think again and we must do it quickly.’

  ‘How about the grounds of Lochlee Castle?’ Robert suggested. ‘The Fairbairns owned it for nearly five hundred years and Catriona was born there. Would you like to drive over now and ask their permission?’

  ‘I’ll come with you,’ Humphrey offered. ‘I’m sure the owners will agree and we’ll pick a beautiful secluded spot.’

  Three days later Catriona was laid to rest in an oak coffin not far from the fast-flowing river where she and her sisters had paddled when they’d been small and the air had been filled with only the sound of youthful laughter.

  Nine

  London, 1921

  ‘Did you say Laura and her daughter are coming to live in London?’ Andrew asked Beattie as they sat having dinner at home one evening.

  ‘Yes. They’re staying with Lizzie to begin with while Laura looks for a flat.’ At that moment the butler left the room and Beattie could talk more freely. ‘Thank God she changed her mind about accepting the money Mama wanted her to have.’

  ‘I think Flora changed her mind for her,’ Andrew observed, smiling. ‘I overheard Flora saying she was being selfish.’

  She smiled back, toying with the roast lamb and redcurrant sauce on her plate. Apart from the tragedy that had swept them all into mourning, the past year had been the happiest she’d ever had with Andrew. He was a changed man. The arrogant showing off was long gone and he’d been attentive and caring towards both her and the children.

  ‘What’s wrong with your dinner, sweetheart? You’re picking at your food?’ he asked with concern.

  Beattie pushed her plate away. ‘I’m not hungry,’ she confessed.

  ‘Do you feel unwell?’

  ‘Not really.’ Then she grinned and whispered, ‘I wasn’t going to say anything until I was certain, but I’m fairly sure that I’m pregnant.’

  Andrew’s face lit up with delight and he glanced over his shoulder to make sure they were still alone. ‘Let’s go up to our bedroom in a few minutes so I can show you how happy you’ve made me. I love you so much, Bea. You know that, don’t you?’

  Beattie nodded and pursed her lips as she heard the butler’s footsteps coming along the hall. ‘Where do you suppose Laura should look for a flat?’ she asked loudly.

  He laughed and gave her a roguish look. ‘In the West End, perhaps? Near all the theatres.’

  ‘That’s a good idea.’ She longed for the touch of his hands and the feel of his body lying alongside hers. Then she blew him a kiss when the butler’s back was turned and Andrew winked back.

  ‘I think I’ll go and rest,’ she said loudly. ‘It’s been a long day.’ She rose to leave the table. Andrew looked up at her with longing. ‘I’ve had a frantic day, too. I’ll follow you up in a minute.’

  The butler scurried down to the kitchen and whispered to the cook, ‘They’re going to be at it like rabbits tonight. Didn’t even wait to finish the main course.’

  Her face fell. ‘What about my chocolate soufflé?’

  ‘Well, we’re not going to be like rabbits so let’s have it ourselves.’

  ‘How long are Aunt Laura and Caroline going to be staying with us?’ Margaret asked her mother.

  ‘I’m not sure,’ Lizzie replied. ‘It depends how long it takes them to find a flat. I’m so thrilled they’re going to be in London though, my darling. I’ve always been closest to Laura, perhaps because she was born fifteen months after me so I can’t remember a time when she wasn’t around.’

  ‘When are they arriving?’

  ‘The day after tomorrow,’ Lizzie replied. After the terrible sorrow of the previous year she was positively excited to have something to look forward to. ‘I thought we’d give a dinner party that night to welcome them. You’ll be in, won’t you?’

  Margaret, named after her late grandmother, shrugged as she smoothed down her long dark hair. ‘I don’t know about the others but I will be out.’

  Lizzie frowned with annoyance. ‘But I want you all here and I’ve invited Beattie and her family. What are you doing?’

  ‘Going out with Richard.’

  ‘Well, on this occasion invite him here. It would be an opportunity for him to meet all your cousins. Aunt Beattie is dying to meet him too. He’s such a lovely young man.’ Lizzie’s expression softened. ‘He’s so eligible, too. Meanwhile, I’ll have a word with Isabel, Rose and Emma. Let’s have a really happy get-together for a change,’ Lizzie said firmly.

  ‘I can’t believe we’re really going to London,’ Caroline said with enthusiasm. ‘It’s like a fairy tale! When I get on stage I’ll be the toast of the town.’

  Laura looked out of the window as the train chuffed through the mountains of Scotland. Her feelings were mixed, although she wore a cheerful expression for Caroline’s sake. It had been an unexpected wrench when she realized that she might be leaving Scotland for ever. What added to her melancholy was the fact that the money she now had to spend had come at a terrible price. Feelings of guilt still stabbed her heart from time to time but she also realized that refusing the money wouldn’t bring Catriona back. Flora had made her see that she was being selfish. The money would be used now to give Caroline every chance to succeed as a ballerina.

  Laura slept through the night and woke up to see green fields and a gentle horizon.

  ‘It’s so flat!’ Caroline said in a disappointed voice. ‘Are there no mountains in England?’

  ‘There’s the odd hill,’ Laura laughed, ‘but otherwise it’s as flat as a pancake with lots of big towns. You’ll find it very different to Scotland.’

  When they steamed dramatically into St Pancras Station Caroline was agog at the hustle and bustle of the crowds. Laura managed to get a porter to look after their luggage.

  ‘Got a car meeting you, ma’am?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes.’ Humphrey had promised to send his chauffeur.

  ‘Do you know what sort of car, ma’am?’

  ‘A Rolls-Royce,’ she replied calmly, but Caroline was hopping from one foot to another and tugging her mother’s arm with excitement.

  ‘Isn’t this exciting, Muzzie?’ she exclaimed, reminding Laura of what a sweet little girl she’d been before Walter had gone bankrupt, causing everything to change.

  Laura put her arms around her daughter’s slim shoulders, saying in a burst of enthusiasm about their future, ‘London, here we come!’

  Caroline laughed happily and hugged her mother back. ‘This is the tops!’ she shrieked as the chauffeur spotted them and opened the car door. While the luggage was being put in the boot of the gleaming black car they found themselves sitting in the lush grey suede interior. Both of t
hem were laughing and in high spirits. Laura knew she’d done the right thing by moving to London.

  ‘Happy, darling?’ she asked.

  ‘Very happy, Muzzie. This is the best plan you’ve ever made. We’re going to paint the town red, aren’t we?’

  ‘I can’t wait to see your name in lights outside Drury Lane Theatre.’

  ‘And we’ll invite Dada to come and stay with us and he’ll see my name in lights, too, won’t he?’ As she spoke she reached for her mother’s hand and squeezed it.

  ‘Of course, my darling.’ At that moment Laura vowed to herself that she would do everything in her power to make Caroline happy, because underneath her selfishness and moodiness was a sweet little girl whose toys had been tossed into a lorry on the day the bailiffs emptied their home, leaving them standing on the road with only enough money to buy two train tickets to go and take refuge with Diana.

  The party split up as soon as dinner was over that night. Lizzie led the way out of the dining room, followed by Laura and Beattie and all of their daughters, while the men remained at the table drinking brandy, smoking cigars and probably telling ‘dirty stories’ as Beattie said laughingly.

  Up in the large drawing room the three sisters settled themselves at one end where the butler was serving coffee, while all the cousins drifted to the other end where a black grand piano stood in the bay window.

  It was the first time Caroline had seen Margaret, Isabel, Rose and Emma since they’d all piled into Cranley Court in 1913 to stay with Diana. She hadn’t seen Henry, Kathleen and Camilla, Aunt Beattie’s children, for eight years either, but she was struck by how friendly they seemed. The Great War had started the following year, disrupting the lives of the whole nation even after it was all over. Even then money problems had prevented Laura and Caroline from going on trips, confining their travelling to visiting Walter.

  The girls were eyeing Caroline now, taking in her fair hair cut short in the new fashion and her calf-length pale pink chiffon dress, designed and made by her mother. There was something about her that they knew they didn’t possess. Although not a great beauty, her dark eyes flashed with gaiety and animation and Margaret had heard her mother telling someone her niece had ‘star quality’, whatever that was.

  ‘I hear you’re a dancer, Caroline,’ Isabel said boldly.

  Before Caroline could answer, Rose asked, ‘What is it like to dance in front of hundreds of people? I’d be terrified.’

  Camilla, who was only nine, nudged her on the arm. ‘Me too!’

  Caroline could see they were all a bit shy and the only person who’d chatted to her at dinner had been Uncle Humphrey.

  ‘Do you have to practise a lot?’ Kathleen wondered. ‘I’m learning to play the piano and I’m supposed to practise every day.’

  For the first time in her life Caroline realized her cousins were all looking up to her. She was no longer the relative who didn’t live in a big house with lots of servants, who didn’t have new clothes, only hand-me-downs, who didn’t have dogs or her own pony. All the bitterness she’d felt as a little girl whose mother was a dressmaker rose to the surface at that moment and she suddenly felt better than the lot of them. She had talent. She was already famous in Scotland and soon she’d be famous in England.

  Turning to face them all, she spoke for the first time with assurance and a beaming smile.

  ‘Studying ballet is rather different to playing the piano.’ She paused to give Kathleen a kindly look. ‘You train to be a ballet dancer, like an athlete. I trained for years with the famous Madame Espinosa and she was very strict. When it came to doing the show at the Theatre Royal in Edinburgh we rehearsed until my toes were bleeding,’ she added grandly.

  The girls all gave a shiver and looked at each other with dismay.

  ‘That’s why one isn’t nervous when one performs to a large audience. You’ve rehearsed so often you could do the steps in your sleep.’

  To her gratification they all looked deeply impressed. ‘Could you dance for us now?’ Camilla asked.

  ‘I’d have to put on my ballet points first,’ she replied, seemingly with reluctance.

  There was a chorus of ‘Oh do, please,’ as they looked eagerly at her with admiration.

  Caroline looked down at the large Persian rug. ‘I can’t dance on carpet.’

  ‘We can roll it back,’ Isabel declared, while Kathleen jumped to her feet and opened the keyboard lid.

  ‘I’ll play for you. What sort of music would you like?’

  ‘Something dreamy and romantic,’ Caroline replied instantly, her expression transforming to sheer happiness.

  ‘How about Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata? You’re quite good at playing that one,’ Margaret suggested with a good-natured sisterly frankness.

  The girls were clustering together, giggling with excitement at the novelty of seeing someone dance in Aunt Lizzie’s drawing room.

  ‘OK. I’ll do it,’ Caroline said, as if she was making a great sacrifice.

  ‘Mummy, can we roll the carpet back? Caroline is going to dance for us,’ Margaret explained.

  ‘Of course you can, darling,’ Lizzie replied. ‘Rose, sweetheart, can you go down to the dining room and tell Daddy to come up and bring the others,’ she added. ‘He won’t want to miss this. Humphrey adores ballet and opera.’

  While Rose scurried off the others rolled back the carpet and re-arranged the chairs so that when Caroline returned fifteen minutes later the two families and Richard, Margaret’s boyfriend, were sitting expectantly in a semi-circle.

  From the open doorway Caroline gave Kathleen the signal to start playing the piano. She’d decided to improvise The Dying Swan which she’d seen Anna Pavlova perform in Edinburgh several years ago, and which had reduced her to tears. She’d show these rich cousins how talented she was.

  The poignant music filled the drawing room and Caroline was tip-tipping elegantly on her points with arms gracefully extended as wings that flapped gently and an expression of carefree joy. For several minutes she cavorted with intricate precision but then she seemed to buckle as if in pain and the wings were flapping frantically, then she seemed to rally but as the music began to fade she sank slowly to the ground with folded arms stretched out before her and her head bowed. There she remained motionless as Kathleen played the final bar.

  There was a burst of applause from her family and Beattie had tears in her eyes, causing Andrew to reach out and take her hand. Humphrey jumped to his feet, shouting, ‘Bravo! By Jove, she’s a talented girl, Laura.’ He wasn’t the only person in the room who had been transfixed by Caroline’s dancing and the subtle sexuality of her movements. When Caroline rose to make a deep curtsey she smiled into the audience and found herself impaled by the admiring blue eyes of Margaret’s boyfriend, Richard, who was staring at her as if he’d been hypnotized.

  Laura woke up one morning two weeks later to hear muffled voices coming from the next-door bedroom where Lizzie and Humphrey slept. They were both female voices and she quickly realized Lizzie and Margaret were quarrelling. She heard Margaret say forcibly, ‘I can’t even invite him to the house without …’

  And then heard Lizzie reply placatingly, ‘They won’t be here much longer.’

  Laura felt the deep hurt of rejection although she knew the problem had nothing directly to do with her. Richard Montgomery seemed fascinated by Caroline, and as a result Margaret had become frightened of losing him.

  It had begun when Richard had cornered Caroline after she’d danced for the family. He’d wanted to know all about her training, what her hopes and aspirations were and where could he see her dance again. While all the others were straightening the drawing room and Kathleen was being praised for playing the piano so well, Caroline and Richard seemed to be in a world of their own. Aware of Margaret’s uneasiness, Caroline was only too happy to have scored points over her cousin whom she had never liked. If Richard admired her, so what? Caroline was happy to encourage his interest in her.

&nb
sp; Three times in the past week he’d come to the house to pick up Margaret, and Caroline had happened to be walking down the stairs to the hall as the butler opened the front door, giving her the chance of greeting him sweetly. On another occasion she was in the hall seeing if there were any letters for her just as he was due to arrive.

  Margaret was aware of the ploys her cousin was using and felt insecure and nervous. Richard had been wooing her for nearly a year and she was madly in love with him. He was handsome with his clean-cut features and those amazing blue eyes that seemed to pierce one’s soul. Every time Margaret saw him her heart raced and she longed for him to make love to her, but that would have to wait until their marriage. Meanwhile, he was in her thoughts from when she woke up in the morning to her last moment of consciousness before she fell asleep at night. They’d get married at St Margaret’s, Westminster, and the reception would be held at Claridges. She had the whole occasion planned in her mind, including the design of her wedding dress (duchess satin, of course). The last thing she needed was a pushy and forward cousin trying to ruin her plans.

  The atmosphere in Lizzie and Humphrey’s Kensington house was becoming palpably tense. Laura was looking at several flats a day but they were either too small or the right size but too expensive. She was aware that Margaret was jealous of Caroline, who was working hard to find a good agent. Lizzie’s words about them ‘not staying long’ haunted and upset her. It was the first time they’d had a silent difference. Both wanted the best for their daughters and as far as Laura was concerned Caroline’s passion was ballet dancing. Of course Caroline was bright and chatty if she accidentally bumped into Richard Montgomery; she was bright and chatty with everyone these days.

  Then she found the perfect flat in a converted early Victorian house just off the Cromwell Road in Kensington. There were other people who were interested so she took it on the spot. The lease was for seventeen years and the rent was much less than she’d budgeted for. In an unexpected stroke of good luck, the previous tenant was happy to leave a lot of his furniture behind as he was emigrating to Canada.

 

‹ Prev