The Child From Nowhere

by Freda Lightfoot

  By eleven o’clock Kate was back in Eliot’s study, where she spent the rest of the morning gathering her thoughts and putting the relevant papers in order. It had occurred to her that she would have to move out of here now and so she must make an effort to clear away her things. But where to put them? Where could she work instead?

  She began to search for an alternative space, her mind instantly fixing on the small room upstairs on the nursery landing, where she’d spent so much time with Callum when he was a baby. She went straight upstairs to check it out.

  Here were the old mahogany drawers, some of them still stuffed with his baby clothes, the little sailor suit and Lord Fauntleroy outfit that Amelia had insisted on buying. Good heavens, these things should have been thrown out years ago.

  Kate buried her face in them as she had used to do so often when he was missing, drawing in the scent of her child to ease her aching heart. Now they smelled only of moth-balls, but they held such precious memories how could she possibly discard them?

  She wrapped the clothes in tissue paper, along with several other items such as his first baby shoes, Flora’s ribbons and christening robe, and put them safely in a box on the top shelf of the old wardrobe.

  She found a copy of Doctor Barker’s Advice to Mothers and began to read it, chuckling softly to herself as memories flooded back. She recalled how she used to pore over these pages, desperately anxious to follow the rules her mistress had set, although more often than not following her own instincts instead.

  And here was an ancient bottle of gripe water which reminded her of the Gregory Mixture and Godfrey’s Cordial which Amelia had at first expected her to use.

  She’d made a start on emptying the top cupboard when the door opened and Lucy herself strolled into the room.

  ‘I thought it must be you in here. What are you doing, cleaning and tidying? Once a servant, always a servant.’

  Chapter Nineteen

  Kate silently ground her teeth. ‘I intend to take over this room as my office.’

  ‘Ah, afraid of having your nose pushed out downstairs?’

  ‘Not at all, but obviously Eliot must have his own study back. I shall move up here.’

  Lucy snorted with derision. ‘I should think it an ideal choice. Back in the place where you began; where you belong. Eliot is in charge once more, his control over the family restored. Your days of ruling the roost are over. Don’t think you’ll have any say now in the future running of the business, not now Eliot is back in the saddle.’

  ‘Well, that’s where you’re wrong. He’s more than willing to listen to my ideas. In fact, he’s agreed for us to have a short meeting on future business development’s this very evening, after dinner.’ This was far from the truth but Kate couldn’t bear to have Lucy lording it over her.

  ‘Then as a major shareholder, I shall insist that I be present too.’

  Kate was startled, mentally kicking herself for mentioning it when she’d hoped for a private meeting. ‘The day-to-day running of the business doesn’t concern shareholders.’

  ‘Indeed it does.’ Lucy took a step into the room and hissed at Kate through tight, narrowed lips, eyes slitted like those of a cat’s. ‘Don’t think you can sideline me, Kate O’Connor, because you can’t. I’m back and I intend to stay, so don’t try anything you might regret.’

  ‘The name is Tyson. Mrs Tyson.’

  Lucy put back her lovely head and laughed. ‘Call yourself what you will, you’re still the girl from Poor House Lane so far as I’m concerned. But as of today, your power is seriously curtailed, your influence over Eliot and Tyson Industries on the wane. Mine is only just starting to rise. Attempt to push me out and I’ll make you rue the day. Remember that I’ve slept with your precious husband once already, and can easily get into his bed again, any time I wish.’

  Kate felt as if she’d been punched in the face. Such a possibility had never entered her head. Could it be true? Eliot had never seemed to be the type to wander. He’d been a loyal husband to Amelia, and to herself, Kate was certain of it. But then, there had been that difficult intervening period.

  Circumstances, malicious gossip and the loss of Callum, of course, had come between them. Could it have happened then? Surely not. For all Eliot’s sense of guilt, he’d had no real time for Lucy. Even so, a doubt had been sown, one Kate would do her best to quash. She certainly had no intention of questioning her husband on the subject because that was clearly what Lucy wanted, to cause dissent between them. ‘Sure and you’re a terrible liar. I don’t believe a word of it.’

  ‘Suit yourself.’

  Her challenge hadn’t quite brought about the effect Lucy had hoped for, but not for one moment would she show her irritation. She’d tried only once to get into Eliot’s bed and, much to her chagrin, he had repulsed her. Not that Kate knew that, and Lucy was more than ready to say whatever was necessary to gain control of this household and reinstate her own children in it. Her son Jack should be the one to run the company with Eliot, and take over when he died. It was his birthright.

  Her three precious darlings, all away at boarding school, would soon be reaching the end of their school year. She’d made arrangements for them to spend the summer with various school friends, since she couldn’t possibly have coped with all three of them at the tiny house in Heversham. It broke her heart, of course, and naturally she missed them, but really children were such hard work.

  However, farming them out could now come to an end. There was ample space at Tyson Lodge, and with servants on hand to deal with all the day to day unpleasantness involved in caring for the young they would not intrude too much upon her social life. And they would be delighted by this momentous change in their circumstances.

  Young Georgie still had a number of years of education before him, being only fourteen. Darling, irrepressible Bunty should really be sent off to finishing school next year, if only Lucy could persuade Eliot to pay the fees.

  But Jack, a year older than his sister at eighteen, was already considering various possibilities for a future career. Not a natural scholar, there was little hope of his going up to Oxford or any other university, and Lucy certainly had no wish for him to enter the services. She held high hopes that, come September, he could be found a position in the business.

  What was in Eliot’s will, she wondered? It occurred to her then in a sudden flash of intuition that he might not have got around to altering it since Callum returned home. He’d surely made a will before he joined up as most right-thinking men did, or perhaps when he’d married Kate O’Connor, but so far as he was aware at that time, he no longer had a son. Callum was missing, presumed gone for good, in which case the business would naturally go to his next-of-kin, to his nephews and niece. And he surely hadn’t had any opportunity, or thought to change it since, being still away at war.

  She guessed that until he went to see the family solicitor, should some unforeseen and unfortunate accident happen to Callum, her own children would indeed be the ones to inherit. Who else was there to follow Eliot into the business?

  Lucy spared no thought for Kate. So far as Lucy was concerned, she didn’t feature in the picture at all. She must now step down from her self-appointed role as head of the family business and be satisfied with simply being a wife and doing as she was told, for a change. Hadn’t Lucy herself made a point of emphasising this fact to Eliot? Only, more diplomatically, of course.

  As for Flora, she was merely a silly little girl who would no doubt grow up into a silly young woman. Her father might leave her some shares, but never full control. Indeed, the future looked bright, very bright indeed. Although fate may need a helping hand to turn things in the right direction.

  Lucy had a sudden urge to be alone, to think through the full implications of this revelatory idea.

  As she turned to go, Kate scrambled up from her knees and hurried after her. Grasping the other woman’s arm, she jerked her to a halt. ‘If it’s a battle you’re after, you’ll not find me fr
ightened of a fight. I never have been. I’m Eliot’s wife and the mistress of this house, not you. I’m the one who will partner him through life and in business, not you.’

  ‘We’ll see about that. We will indeed.’

  ‘And don’t you ever try to hurt my children, or you’ll be sorry, so help me God.’

  Lucy walked away, laughing as if Kate had made some sort of joke.

  Mrs Petty enjoyed nothing so much as to prepare dinner for the family. She’d little truck with fancy food and the kind of fashionable dinner parties that the first Mrs Tyson had loved to give, but roast beef and Yorkshire, substantial soups and hearty, rib-sticking puddings, were her speciality. There was no one, in all of Westmorland, in her own humble opinion, who could make a better gingerbread, or rum butter. And her Herdwick lamb would melt in the mouth, it was that tender; that French madam had had absolutely no notion of how to judge a good meal.

  Today she was preparing individual cottage pies, one for each member of the family, with an extra large one for the master.

  Ida thought this strange, considering it a break with tradition and something of a nuisance since it presented her with more washing up. ‘Why are we doing separate pies, Mrs Petty? Wouldn’t it be easier to make one big un?’

  ‘Aye, it would, but I have me reasons. Ask no questions and you’ll be told no lies.’

  Intrigued, Ida’s head was suddenly filled with questions she longed to ask as she watched Mrs P mince and cook the beef in a big round pot, adding the onions and tomatoes Ida herself had chopped, together with a few precious herbs; and then prepare a separate, smaller pan, also of minced beef with far fewer vegetables and not even a pinch of pepper.

  Frowning, Ida peered into the pan. ‘Ooh, this meat’s all greasy and full of fat and gristle. What is the butcher thinking of to sell us such rubbish? Shall I chuck it away?’

  ‘No, Ida, you will do no such thing. That’s for Madam Lucy’s pie.’

  Ida’s eyes grew round with fright. ‘Ooh! That’s wicked, that is. She’ll notice and blame me.’

  Mrs Petty briskly wiped her hands on her apron, the swagger of her plump shoulders loudly proclaiming that she didn’t care.

  Ida recognised the gesture and quickly added for good measure, ‘I’m the one what has to serve her, remember? She’ll be furious and make me tek it away. I know she will.’

  ‘She wouldn’t dare make a fuss, not yet, not till she feels a bit more secure like. But I’ll have a spare one lined up, just in case.’

  ‘Not one of ours?’

  ‘No, Ida, indeed not one of ours. And we shall have some of the very best beef in ours. Folk generally get what they deserve in life, or so I’ve discovered.’

  Dinner, as might be expected, was an uncomfortable affair which passed largely in silence. Lucy took the place she was offered to Eliot’s left, and rarely glanced across at Kate, to his right, beyond a venomous glance of triumph as she settled herself at table.

  The entire family was present except for Flora, who had been excused as she was still considered to be too young for adult dinner parties. Callum, however, had been bullied into attending, and sat stiffly beside his mother.

  The first course, one of Mrs Petty’s filling country vegetable soups, was eaten in silence, Ida seeming particularly nervous as she served at table, Kate noticed. Her hands were positively shaking as she put out the individual cottage pies.

  ‘How splendid!’ Eliot remarked. ‘I get my very own, and much larger than yours, ladies. What is there for afters, Ida? Spotted dick, I hope?’

  ‘Jam roly poly and custard, sir.’

  ‘Even better,’ and everyone smiled at Eliot, humouring his pleasure at the prospect of good, home-cooked food.

  Kate had made a private resolve to behave as normally as possible. She turned to Eliot with a brilliant, heart-stopping smile, her blue-grey eyes twinkling with happiness. ‘How did your first day go, me darlin’? Not too painful, I hope?’

  ‘It was most – illuminating.’

  ‘Did Toby fill you in on the state of trade and the policies we’ve been following?’

  ‘He answered a few of my questions, as did many other people I spoke to. I doubt I shall have any trouble in settling back into the routine.’

  ‘Of course you won’t.’

  ‘I hope your own day was pleasant, and much less stressful.’

  ‘Er – yes, to be sure.’ How could she explain that she’d been bored to tears, that her thoughts for the entire day had been fully occupied with devising a way to get back to work?

  Even at the height of his powers, Eliot had never been a natural businessman, much preferring to spend his time tending his garden or painting beautiful pictures, at which he was most skilled. Kate still hoped that he would accept a business partnership between them, with herself remaining actively involved in the day-to-day running of the firm, so that he would have the time to pursue the pleasures he so enjoyed. She meant to talk this through with him, the moment she got the chance.

  She cleared her throat. ‘Perhaps, after dinner, we could have that meeting concerning future plans for the business? If you remember, Eliot, we discussed it this morning.’

  He laid down his knife and fork with a gentle sigh. ‘I hope we will be allowed to enjoy our food first, without any further discussion about business matters or your precious plans, my dear?’ His smile was kind but his voice firm, and Kate hastened to agree.

  ‘Of course, of course. There will be plenty of time later, at the meeting, for all of that.’

  Pleased with Eliot’s obvious irritation, Lucy said, ‘What a workhorse you are, sister dear,’ and hid a small smile of satisfaction while quietly pushing aside her own pie, half eaten. If she were in charge of this household, she wouldn’t allow such food to be given to the dogs.

  The aunts were the only ones to speak after that, remarking politely upon the weather, the charity visits they’d carried out that morning, and the content of the vicar’s last sermon. Vera, ever a stickler for propriety and a stalwart of the local church, would obey Eliot to the letter, and dear Cissie, the more mischievous and soft-hearted of the two, would never dream of disagreeing with her sister.

  The two maiden ladies, having led a sheltered life, cared for in their youth by their father, then their brother George who had started Tyson’s Shoes, and finally by his son, their nephew Eliot, did not believe it their place to question any decision he might make. In their opinion men must be deferred to in all things as they were the ones with the intelligence to make all the essential decisions in life, the ones who ruled the world, as certainly Eliot ruled their own small portion of it.

  Even so, Vera rather hoped that they too would be invited into the meeting, yet not for a moment would she say as much.

  Once the pudding dishes had been cleared away and coffee served, Kate tried again. ‘Shall we repair to the study now, to have our meeting?’

  Her heart sank just a fraction as Eliot glanced across at her with a startled expression in his eyes, almost as if he’d forgotten the subject had ever been mentioned.

  Aware of Lucy’s smirk of satisfaction, Kate ploughed on, smiling all the while to soften the force of her words, trying to still the disquiet that was eating into her soul over her husband’s emotional state. Hadn’t he only just returned from the war? Wasn’t he bound to be a bit confused from time to time? He was settling, was he not, and would improve still further with time, love and patience. The trouble was that decisions about the business couldn’t afford to wait. Something had to be done to protect its future now.

  ‘Now that you feel well enough to face work again, I think it important you be put fully in the picture. I would welcome the opportunity to put forward the ideas I have in mind to help make the business more sound.’

  His mouth twisted slightly at the corners, as if her earnestness amused him. ‘If you insist, though it seemed sound enough to me. However, I can see I shall get no peace until you do.’

  ‘I don’t insist,
Eliot, I simply think it might be useful.’ Oh, and it would be so lovely, she wanted to add, to have a few private moments alone with her husband while she did so: to escape Lucy’s eagle eye and the aunts’ condescending disapproval.

  She was to be disappointed in this. Even as she rose, cup and saucer in hand, Lucy did likewise.

  ‘As shareholders, I believe the three of us should also be present at any board meeting. We too need to be kept fully in the picture. Don’t you agree, Eliot?’

  Vera was scrambling to her feet, delighted this suggestion had been made without her having to make it. ‘Indeed, what a splendid idea. I should be most interested to hear your plans too, Kate dear.’

  ‘And I,’ Cissie put in, in case anyone should forget that she was there.

  Eliot sighed with resignation. ‘I can see I am being bullied from all sides, whether I like it or not. Very well, Lucy, Aunts, if you think you won’t be too bored.’

  ‘Of course I shan’t be bored,’ said Lucy. ‘Not in the slightest.’

  Chapter Twenty

  The meeting was not a success. Kate explained all about her dreams for developing a ladies’ fashion line using a new process by which the outer soles were cemented instead of being stitched or welted on. Eliot was not impressed, claiming she was suggesting that Tysons produce lightweight rubbish.

  ‘The shoes will be lightweight, yes, but certainly not rubbish. Not in the least. Tyson’s will continue to be known for its quality footwear. But the latest fashions demand that women show off their ankles, and they want pretty, delicate shoes to give the appearance of pretty, delicate feet. It is simple vanity, yes, but we must pander to fashion if we are to make progress in the post-war era. Toby has come up with a way of inserting a soft rubber pad under the insole, which supports the instep. We must also provide shoes in different widths and different fittings. Not all women have the same shape of foot, even if they are the same size. We should accommodate that fact. And we must advertise.’