“You talk as if you’re years older than I am, but as you said yourself, it’s three years.”
“I feel older. Girls always mature quicker than boys. You’ve still a lot of growing up to do.”
“The thing is you’re always going to be three years older than me. So in three years time when I’m nineteen, you’ll be twenty-two, and you’ll still say I’m too young. Perhaps you’re right, perhaps it’s best if we remain friends and that I don’t build my hopes up. All I can say at the moment is that being with you makes me happier than I’ve ever been. You talk to me as an equal. The same way Anna used to talk to me, in fact. Mother and Father always talk down to me, whilst others are deferential because of my upbringing. I don’t much like either. You can scoff and call me poor little rich boy if you like, but it’s the truth. I’m just a normal human being like everyone else and I want to be around people who treat me that way.”
“I shan’t scoff again, I promise,” said Izzy. “I honestly can’t think of a better friend to have, Teddy.” She slipped her arm in his. “Come on, let’s go and find Mrs. Palmer and Mr. Stephens. With any luck we’ll walk off that breakfast and be ready for something decent to eat.”
They started walking the length of the sea front, going into each guesthouse along the way and asking for Mrs. Palmer and Mr. Stephens. As with the landlady at the guesthouse in which they were staying, the owners were a little unhelpful. They stopped long enough to eat a lunch of fish and chips as they sat on the sands. A bracing breeze from the North Sea whipped at their faces, but as the sun shone above, it was not too cold. The sea breeze and the tangy aroma of vinegar made their mouths water, even as they ate. The unpleasant breakfast was quickly forgotten, replaced by the delicious taste of cod and chips.
“This is the best food I’ve ever tasted,” said Teddy. “Who knew eating out of newspaper could be so delicious?”
“Half the population actually,” said Izzy, chewing a juicy chip. “Fish and chips are so good for the soul. It’s part of being British.”
“I’ve certainly never felt so British.”
When Izzy had finished her food, she spread out the newspaper. “I like to see what was happening yesterday,” she said, smiling. It was a local newspaper, full of Filey news. She perused the greasy pages whilst Teddy finished his food.
“Teddy, look!” she exclaimed.
“What? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing! Look, there’s an article here about a hotel called Anna’s Return. It won an award for excellence from the local council.”
“So?”
Izzy looked at him as if he were particularly stupid. “What is your half-sister’s name?”
Teddy’s eyes lit up. “Anna. Surely you don’t think it’s Mrs. Palmer’s? It would be too easy.”
“Don’t you think it’s a bit of a coincidence? The rest of the article is missing so it doesn’t say who owns the hotel and there’s no address, but I reckon if we ask around we’ll find out easily enough. We should go there. We’ve nothing to lose.”
“You’re right,” said Teddy. He stood up and screwed his chip wrappings into a ball, in order to throw it in the nearest waste bin. “We’ll go there. If it turns out to be the right place, we won’t be wandering around aimlessly all day.”
Izzy ripped out the bit of paper from the sheet, and screwed up the rest.
“We’d best clean up first,” she said to Teddy after they had put the paper into the bin. She held up her ink blackened hands. “The only problem with yesterday’s news is yesterday’s newsprint.”
Anna’s Return was on a quiet side street of Filey, rather than on the sea front. It looked welcoming even from the outside, with whitewashed walls, and pretty curtains in the window. What’s more, the holidaymakers coming out through the front door were smiling, and looking back, seemingly engaging in chatter with someone inside.
“I can’t imagine Mrs. Green allowing all that happiness,” said Izzy.
“Goodness no,” said Teddy. “It would lower the tone of the place.”
If Teddy hoped to see Mrs. Palmer on reception, he was to be disappointed. The desk clerk was a young man in his thirties with an open smile and charming disposition. His name tag said he was called Richard Preston. “Can I be of assistance?” he asked Teddy and Izzy.
“Actually we’re looking for an old friend of mine,” said Teddy. “A Mrs. Palmer?”
“Is she a guest here?” Richard asked.
“No, oh… I thought she might be the owner,” said Teddy. “I’m sorry. I think we’ve wasted your time.”
“Just a minute,” said Izzy, stopping Teddy as he was about to turn and leave. “What about a Mr. Stephens. Is he here?”
“I’m afraid my uncle, Mr. Stephens has gone to the cash and carry,” said Richard. “He’ll be back in about an hour. My aunt, Mrs. Stephens is in. Would you like to speak to her?”
“Yes, yes, we would,” said Izzy.
“Wait one moment. I’ll just go and fetch her.”
“It can’t be the same Mr. Stephens,” said Teddy, when Richard had gone into a room marked private. “He was supposed to live with Mrs. Palmer.”
“Well if he met someone else and married, I’d imagine he’d live with her instead,” said Izzy. “They should be able to tell us where Mrs. Palmer is.”
“Yes, you’re right.”
The door to the private room opened and a woman stood in the doorway.
“Mrs. Stephens?” said Izzy, stepping forward.
“No, it’s Mrs. Palmer!” Teddy exclaimed, his face breaking into a huge grin.
Mrs. Palmer frowned. “It’s Mrs. Stephens nowadays. How can I…” She stopped and looked more closely at Teddy. “It can’t be. Can it? It’s not Master Edward?”
“The one and only,” said Teddy. “Oh Mrs. Palmer … sorry, Mrs. Stephens, you don’t know how happy I am to see you at last! Izzy, this is her. This is our old housekeeper.”
“I think I’d worked that one out,” said Izzy with a smile.
Chapter Seventeen
“I think it might be less confusing if you called me Polly,” said Mrs. Stephens. She had taken Teddy and Izzy into the private room, which turned out to be a neat and homely sitting room with a desk at one end, covered in accounts and other papers. She asked Richard to bring tea and biscuits. “And is this your young lady, Master Edward?”
“We’re just friends,” said Teddy, blushing.
“I’m Isobel McDonald. Izzy to my friends. I’m a nurse to Sir Lionel.”
“I’m very glad to meet you, Izzy. I’m sorry to hear Sir Lionel has been unwell. Is that why you’ve come to me, Master Edward? Because I can’t return now, even if I wanted to.”
“No, that’s not why. Father is making a vast improvement, and we keep getting staff from an agency. None of them stay very long.”
“So not much has changed then,” said Polly, pursing her lips.
“I had no idea that you and Mr. Stephens had married.”
“Well we always talked about it, you know.”
“No, I didn’t know,” said Teddy. “You kept it hidden well.” As far as he could remember, things had been rather strained between Mr. Stephens and Mrs. Palmer, with each fighting for supremacy over the domestic arrangements at Silverton. At the very least, Mrs. Palmer always seemed cross with Mr. Stephens. Perhaps that was how love manifested itself for some people.
“Then when we came here, Horace almost fell foul of the residency laws, so I said we might as well get married. That way he can’t be thrown out on the street after twenty-eight days.”
Richard came back into the room with a tray of tea and cakes. “This is Richard Preston,” said Polly. “He’s Horace’s nephew and the best desk clerk in the world. Richard, this is young Master Edward Silverton who I told you about, and his friend, Izzy.”
“I’m glad to meet you both,” said Richard, smiling. “Aunt Polly has lots of tales of her life at Silverton Hall. She always speaks well of you and your …” Rich
ard paused, as if afraid he had spoken out of turn. “Young Anna.”
“It’s alright, you can say she’s my sister,” said Teddy. “I’m very proud of the fact. Actually we’ve come to see you about her.” He looked at Polly. “I heard that you tried to find her and wondered if you’d been successful.”
Polly shook her head, sadly. “No. We put up posters in London, in the area where she posted the letter to Horace from. But we’ve heard nothing. I can only hope and pray that she’s safe. I thought we’d call the guesthouse Anna’s Return, so that if she ever came looking for us, she’d know where to find us. Silly I suppose.”
“Not silly at all. The thing is,” said Teddy. “I’ve got a letter from her from Father, and he would like to see her too.”
Polly sniffed, and made a harrumph sound in her throat. “Pity he didn’t think of that when the poor little mite was living in his house, forced to be a servant. I’m sorry, Master Edward, I shouldn’t speak out of turn…”
“Why not?” said Izzy. “You’re in your own house now. You can say what you wish.”
Polly looked at Izzy with admiration. “Are you sure you’re not his young lady? You’d be very good for him. A man needs a woman who can manage him, and don’t you ever let them tell you any different. Why Horace seems ten years younger since we opened the guesthouse.”
“Is your sister still with you?” asked Teddy.
“No. We had a parting of the ways,” said Polly, stiffly. “We started a guesthouse together, but disagreed over how it should be run. She wanted it like an army camp and I think that people come on holiday to relax. Then she took up with some man who almost brought us all to ruin. Horace and I were going to move back down south, but as luck would have it, this came up, and we decided to try our luck. Things seem to be going well. Which is more than I can say for Dunromin’ or Dunsmiling as we call my sister’s place.”
“That’s where we’re staying,” said Izzy.
“Mrs. Green?” said Teddy, wide eyed. “Your sister is Mrs. Green?”
“Yes, that’s our Elsie.”
“But she said she didn’t know you,” Izzy said.
“Well she would, wouldn’t she? We don’t talk anymore. I’m only glad young Anna didn’t come here, or Elsie would have worked her even harder than she had to work at Silverton Hall. She doesn’t treat her staff or her guests right, and that’s a fact. I can’t believe you’re staying there.”
“We were,” said Teddy, “but if you have two rooms going spare…”
“Of course I have, and you don’t have to pay either.”
“Now, Polly,” said Izzy. “You can’t run a business like that. We’ll pay our way.”
“You’re a good girl,” said Polly, looking from Izzy to Teddy then back again. “Yes, I think you’ll do quite nicely for him, regardless of what you say about only being friends.”
“So,” said Teddy, grinning at Izzy. “Which one of us is going to tell Mrs. Green we’re not stopping another night?”
“You’re the one who wants to prove you’re grown up,” said Izzy, with a wink at Polly Stephens.
Teddy and Izzy spent a happy couple of days with Polly and Mr. Stephens, before returning home to tell his father that Anna had not yet been found.
Chapter Eighteen
“Anna, we have another problem with the laundry,” said Florentyna, stepping into Anna’s office.
“Oh no. What now?”
“These sheets are barely clean.” Florentyna held up one to show. The sheet, though pressed, still looked grubby.
“I’ll get on to them. Do we have enough to change all the beds?”
Florentyna nodded. “Yes, don’t worry. Some rooms were empty last night, so we can leave those sheets on, can’t we? I know it’s not policy…”
“But it’s common sense,” said Anna, smiling. “They won’t be dirty. Just give the top covers a good shake to get rid of any dust that might have settled. Do you want me to help?”
“Oh you’re far too important to change beds now,” said Florentyna with a wink.
Anna blushed. She had only been working at Carmichaels for two years, but when the previous housekeeper had left to have a baby, Janek had insisted she take the role. “You should not be changing beds anyway,” he had said to her. As always, Anna argued that she was quite capable of hard work, but Janek insisted she had done enough of that in her life. “You’ve earned a promotion,” he had said. “Maybe not here, but with all those years you spent at Silverton Hall.”
“I’m still happy to help, Florentyna,” Anna said earnestly.
“I know. I’m just teasing. If I had your head for figures, I’d probably be housekeeper by now.”
“I could put in a word with Mr. Dabrowski.”
“No, please don’t. Really, I’m happy not to have the responsibility. Neither do I fancy having to deal with that harridan at the laundry.”
“We should really have our own by now,” said Anna. “I’m sure we could utilise a few rooms in the basement. It would create more jobs too.” She made a note to mention it to Janek when they had their next meeting.
When that would be, she did not know. He was away a lot, visiting the other hotels, and overseeing the building of a new Carmichaels in Washington. In a lot of ways, Anna felt sad that her job at Carmichaels had turned their relationship to a professional footing. It seemed to her that they could not be friends. Not whilst he employed her. It was bad enough to hear the whispers of the other staff, some of whom were less gracious than Florentyna about Anna’s quick promotion to housekeeper.
“I’ll get in touch with the laundrette,” she said to Florentyna.
As her friend turned to leave, Anna called her back.
“Who was on desk duty and room service last night, Florentyna? Do you know?”
“Er, yes, I think it was Reg Turner on the desk, and Vince O’Brian on room service. Why?” Florentyna’s eyes became watchful. Anna remembered that Florentyna had a bit of a thing going with Reg Turner.
“Oh it’s just that one of the guests complained to me as they were coming out of their room this morning, and said that they ordered a bottle of whisky last night, but when it came, it tasted watered down.”
“Would that be Major Dalrymple?”
“Yes, that’s him.”
“He always says that. Every time he stays. It’s my guess that he’s drunk so much of it over the years, it’s ruined his taste buds.”
Anna laughed. “Yes, I’m sure you’re right. Still, I’ll have a word with Reg and Vince just so they can be aware of the complaint.”
“Anna?” Florentyna hesitated, as if there was something she wanted to say but was not sure if she should.
“Hmm?”
“Sometimes it’s best just to let these little complaints go. It’s not worth upsetting anyone.”
“I wasn’t going to discipline Reg and Vince,” said Anna. “It’s not even my job to do so. I just thought I’d mention it, in case the Major makes a formal complaint. Tip them off, sort of thing.”
“Oh. So you … er… you wouldn’t be upset if it was watered down whisky then?”
Anna’s eyes widened in surprise. “Of course I would be. As I’m sure Mr. Dabrowski would. Carmichaels has a name for excellence. Serving our customers watered down drinks would not only sully that name, but … well it is illegal, isn’t it?”
“Yes, I suppose so.”
“Florentyna, if there’s something you know…”
“No,” Florentyna said, vehemently. “No, of course not. I was just wondering about your opinion of it, that’s all.”
“Testing me?”
Florentyna laughed. “I should have known better than to even try. You’re whiter than white, Anna. Always have been.”
When Florentyna left, Anna frowned. Had Janek set up that test for her? To ensure she was trustworthy? If so why would he do such a thing?
Since she started working for Janek, he had not mentioned seeing her face on flyers in Hyde P
ark, for which she was thankful. It seemed to Anna that keeping her job at Carmichaels relied on him not thinking that she was either capable of harming a child or of theft. She had lived so long with the shame of both, that she had lost her sense of perspective about it all. As each year passed and she kept her secret, her shame became weightier and her fear of being found out immense. Especially of being found out by Janek, whose good opinion she valued more than anyone’s.
But what if he had found out? He only need make enquiries at Silverton Hall, and he would quite easily learn what had happened. Anna had no doubt that her stepmother would be falling over herself to tell him. It might explain Florentyna’s trap. If indeed it was a trap.
An hour later, after she had finished her paperwork for the morning, and with her head clearer, Anna began to wonder more at Florentyna’s question. She knew Florentyna was honest, but that did not mean that Reginald Turner was as reliable. Reg had come to the hotel soon after it opened, as an ex-soldier injured in the war. He walked with a limp and carried a walking stick, which was almost his trademark. The guests liked him for his easy charm and good looks (and Florentyna agreed with them!) but also because he was a bone fide war hero. Not that he talked about it. He would always dismiss any questions as to how he became injured with a wave of his hand. “It was nothing. I did no more than anyone else out there,” he would say, whilst shaking his head, sagely. This only made people like him more.
Vincent O’Brian was around Reg’s age, but had not fought in the war on account of coming from Southern Ireland. Like Reg, he was a good looking, charming young man, and even more attractive to the female guests because of his soft Irish lilt, which he used to good effect to charm them all. It was sometimes a bone of contention amongst the room service staff that Vince’s tips were always bigger than anyone else’s. But he was a generous lad, and spent most of his money on buying the others drinks, so they quickly forgot about their jealousy until the next time Vince had a big tip.
The two young men were often seen together after work, going to the local pubs, before coming back to the bedroom which they shared at the back of the hotel. If anyone kept the staff awake at night by laughing and singing, it was most likely to be Reg and Vince. But it was an unwritten rule that one did not tell on one’s workmates, so they got away with a lot.
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