by Betty Neels
Sadie put down her coffee cup. ‘Perhaps I could help…’ she began.
Mr Trentham said sternly: ‘Certainly not! It’s your day off, more or less, I must owe you a week of them at least. Besides, this is a heavensent opportunity to discuss the party.’
Sadie just managed not to ask: ‘What party?’ and was glad that she hadn’t when he went on: ‘I’ll make it informal, I think, don’t you? Buffet supper—dancing—I owe a great many evenings out, so I’ll ask them all and get them dealt with at the same time. There’ll be about fifty, I should think. You’ll come, my dear?’
‘Of course. Are we to dress up?’
He shrugged. ‘I can’t imagine any of the girls turning up in woollen dresses!’ His eyes fell on Sadie, who had gone scarlet and he said at once: ‘Sadie dear, I had no intention—forgive me, you look charming in that dress. I mean no unkindness to you, of all people.’ He crossed to her chair and picked up her hand and kissed it gently. ‘You look nice in a sack,’ he finished, and smiled at her so that her heart turned over.
His sister regarded them with smiling eyes. ‘Sadie should wear taffeta.’ She frowned in thought. ‘Something rich—I know, a dark green. Don’t whatever you do, buy something demure and grey.’ And seeing Sadie’s mouth opening to protest: ‘And don’t tell me you aren’t going to get a dress—of course you are. There’s a very good boutique in Highgate Village, they’re bound to have something. Oliver, see that she goes there.’
‘I will.’ He had gone back to his chair, and Sadie, her cheeks cooling, asked, ‘When is the party to be?’
He grinned at her. ‘Well, I’ve several more pretty ladies—five days from now? I’ll do some phoning this evening.’
‘Pretty ladies?’ asked his sister.
‘Ah yes, my daughters and Sadie seem to think that I might take more interest in things if I were to go out more often with pretty ladies. I’ve got through three so far.’
‘And not, I hope, raised their hopes,’ said his sister severely.
The children joined them for lunch. They were nicely behaved but chatty, so that conversation between the grown-ups was scanty, and after lunch they all put on hats and coats and went outside to inspect some trees that had just been planted, the three dogs trailing them. Presently they were joined by the master of the house, who kissed the children, his wife and Sadie, shook hands with his brother-inlaw and asked if it was time for tea. They went back to the house then, and Sadie found herself walking with him, completely at ease because he was so friendly.
They had tea and muffins out of a silver dish round the sitting-room fire, the children, tired now, sitting crosslegged on the carpet before the fire. It was all very domestic and cosy. It was Anna who said: ‘I wish we could do this every day, Daddy—we’ve never done it at home, have we?’
‘No, darling, and I can’t think why not. We must make a habit of it.’
They went back to Highgate then, driving against a stream of homegoing cars up the M4 and weaving a slow way through crowded streets.
As soon as they were indoors Mr Trentham, who had hardly spoken on their way back, went to his study and shut the door, and Sadie took the two children upstairs, tidied them for their supper and went along to the playroom, where they had a fast and furious game of Old Maid before they went down to the dining room.
There was no sign of Mr Trentham, but he appeared briefly as they sat at table, kissed his little daughters goodnight and then kissed Sadie too, in an absent minded manner, which made her distraite for the rest of the evening.
He wasn’t at breakfast the next morning, Woodley mentioned discreetly that he had gone up to the BBC headquarters to discuss a script. ‘Quite a business it is too, miss,’ he confided, ‘all these people sitting round a table, all having their say—something in the Middle East, I fancy, though Mr Trentham did tell me that he rather fancied doing one of these fashionable spy stories.’
‘He must be very clever and know lots of people.’
‘Indeed he does. I understand he’s to give a party shortly, miss—you’ll be able to meet some of them, I daresay. Actors and actresses and suchlike.’ Woodley sniffed in a genteel fashion. ‘Not really the master’s type, if I may say so, Miss Sadie.’
‘I expect they’re very clever and amusing, Woodley. We’re going to take Gladstone for a walk—can we do any shopping for Mrs Woodley?’
‘I’ll ask her. Anna and Julie like the shops—they were never allowed to do the shopping when Miss Murch was here. Such happy little things they are now, begging your pardon, miss.’
Sadie thought that was a compliment and beamed at him. ‘I’m glad you think so, Woodley.’
It must have been almost eleven o’clock that evening before she saw Mr Trentham. She would have been in her room long since, but there had been a film on the TV she had wanted to see and she had stayed up. She was coming out of the sitting room when he came into the house.
‘Still up, Sadie?’ he wanted to know. ‘Checking up on me?’
‘Certainly not, Mr Trentham, I’ve been watching a film.’ She crossed the hall to the stairs. ‘I think Woodley has gone to bed,’ she observed. ‘Can I get you anything?’
‘No, thanks, I’m surfeited with nut cutlets and bean shoots. Don’t ever fall in love with a vegetarian, Sadie. Is there a fire in the sitting room still? Good, I shall sit by it and drink myself insensible.’
‘Why?’ asked Sadie.
‘That’s about the only way in which to expurge the last few hours.’
‘You’re upset. Wasn’t she pretty enough?’
‘Are you being pert?’ he asked her, and then laughed. Sadie left the stairs and went towards him. She had guessed right, he had already had enough to drink; she had read somewhere that one could mop up too much alcohol by eating something. ‘I shall make you a sandwich,’ she told him, ‘and bring you a cup of coffee.’
There was cold beef in the fridge, she made an outsize sandwich, heated the coffee and carried them back to the sitting room. Mr Trentham was lying on the sofa with his eyes closed. He opened them as she reached the sofa. ‘Even if I hadn’t been caught, hook, line and sinker long ago, I am now,’ he told her. ‘You are above rubies, Sadie.’
Sadie didn’t answer. She put down the tray on a small table by the sofa, removed the whisky decanter to a distance and poked up the fire. Then she wished him goodnight and went upstairs to bed.
He was at breakfast when they got down the next morning, wished them a perfectly normal good morning, submitted to his daughters’ hugs and once they had started on their porridge, suggested that they might all go to the Tower. ‘Always provided that you eat all your breakfast and that Sadie will come with us.’
Breakfast had never been eaten so quickly, and since Sadie, in answer to his questioning look, had said that of course she’d love to go too, there was nothing to stop them leaving directly after breakfast. In the car Mr Trentham said: ‘By the way, everyone’s coming to the party. You’d better go and buy that dress tomorrow or my dear sister will take me to task. Do you know which shop it is?’
‘Yes, I think so, your sister gave me the name.’
And after that he had no more to say until he had parked the car and they had been admitted. ‘Let’s get a Yeoman Warder to ourselves,’ he suggested, and took Sadie’s arm. ‘And mind and listen to all that he has to say so that you can answer the children’s questions later on.’
It was difficult to give her full attention with her arm tucked so comfortably in his. The Tower had been finished in the eleventh century, built by William the First and his son, used as a fortress and then encircled by two walls. They were led from one grim apartment to another, and the grimmer they were the more the children enjoyed it, asking bloodthirsty questions about the unfortunate people who had been imprisoned in them, looking at the names carved into the stone walls. Sadie found it all very sad, and was glad when they went to see the Crown Jewels. They were so magnificent that they didn’t look real, but she gazed with
the same rapt attention as the children. Mr Trentham, who had let go her arm, stood a little apart, watching her and smiling a little.
It was time for lunch by the time they were out in the modern world again. Mr Trentham took them back to the car and drove them to Mark Lane to the Viceroy Restaurant, where they ate a delicious meal, handsomely served, and discussed at great length all they had seen that morning. And Sadie found herself joining in with as much enthusiasm as the children, quite forgetting to be suspicious of Mr Trentham’s smile—indeed, she smiled back at him so warmly that his bland good humour almost slipped; only his eyes gleamed each time he looked at her.
They got back home during the afternoon and since the children were still excited, Sadie suggested tea in the playroom, a short walk with Gladstone and to bed a little earlier than usual after their supper. Of Mr Trentham there was no sign. He had disappeared as he so often did, leaving no trace. Once the children were tucked up and asleep she went down for her own meal and then went to bed. It had been a lovely day as far as it went. She sighed and slept.
The next day, leaving the children with Teresa, she went to the boutique. She had money enough, for she had little enough to buy for herself. Now, with every penny she had in her purse, she walked into the shop, encouraged by the quite reasonable prices on the price tags in the window.
Lady Crawley had said green taffeta, and she went slowly along the rails firmly rejecting the sensible browns and greys hanging there. ‘It has got to be green,’ she told the pleasant woman in the shop, ‘and taffeta…’
The woman looked doubtful. ‘I might have something in the stockroom—our sale isn’t till next week, but I could let you have it at sale price. You’re a size ten, aren’t you?’
She bustled away and came back with a dress over her arm. It wasn’t taffeta, but it was a glowing green organza over a silk slip with a wide V neck and short tight sleeves. Sadie tried it on, staring at the image in the mirror; she looked quite different and she wasn’t very happy about the neckline; it seemed a bit low, although the woman assured her that it was modest enough. But the rest was quite perfect. Sadie bought it, and since the woman had taken several pounds off its price, there was enough money to buy slippers.
She was lucky again, for the sales were still on. She browsed from one shoe shop to the next, making up her mind, and finally settled for bronze sandals because they would go very nicely with the amber crêpe too.
Back at the house, she had a dress rehearsal with the two little girls, Teresa and Mrs Woodley an admiring audience. They pronounced her purchases quite perfect and were sworn to secrecy not to say a word to anyone, something they found very difficult when they went downstairs to have tea with their father. They were almost bursting with their secrets, and only Sadie’s warning glances stopped them from giving him hints.
‘I’m to be surprised, I suppose. May I not have the smallest hint, Sadie?’
‘Well, it’s not a sack,’ said Sadie, and went pink under his amused eyes.
He took himself out of the house the next day; the drawing room was being got ready for the dancing and Mrs Woodley was busy in the kitchen making canapés for the party, although she had told Sadie that there would be a van coming from Fortnum and Mason with party food. ‘And Mr Trentham likes my sausage rolls,’ she confided. ‘I always make a good batch of those, he hasn’t much patience with those fiddly bits and pieces.’
Sadie, anxious to help, had volunteered to do the flowers, and she and the children spent a happy morning arranging daffodils and hyacinths and narcissi and pots of cyclamen and even lilac. The florist’s bill would be astronomical, and from what she had seen carried into the kitchen, so would the food bill. She didn’t know much about drinks; probably that bill would be as much as the other two together.
They’d had a picnic lunch in order to leave Mrs Woodley free to make her canapés. They had tea round the fire in the sitting room and then, because the children were restless, she put on Gladstone’s lead and took all three of them for a brisk walk round the square. By the time they got back it was to supper, baths and bed. She tucked them up, kissed them both, left Gladstone in charge and went along to get ready for the evening. There was still no sign of Mr Trentham and it was getting on for half past seven.
She had promised to do a last-minute round to make sure that everything was as it should be; she bathed and changed into the new dress, did her face, put her hair up in a neat chignon, and went downstairs.
They were fated to meet in the hall. Mr Trentham let himself in as she was halfway to the drawing room, and Sadie didn’t stop. She said:
‘Good evening, Mr Trentham, you’ll have to hurry.’
He stood looking at her. ‘This is hardly a hurrying moment,’ he said softly.
‘Stand still, Sadie. I want to look at you.’
CHAPTER NINE
SADIE FOUND HERSELF quite breathless. ‘Your sister said green,’ she said, ‘and I said I’d just take a quick look round.’
He ignored this. ‘I want to talk to you, Sadie.’
‘Mr Trentham, you can’t, you really must go and change.’
He tossed his coat on to a chair. ‘I’ve waited so long, I can wait a little longer,’ he observed, and then as he reached the stairs and prepared to go up them, ‘You look beautiful, Sadie, I want you to remember that during the evening.’ Half way up he turned. ‘Are the children in bed?’
‘Yes, but not asleep.’
‘I’ll go and see them before I change.’
There was no time to think about what he’d said. Sadie flew round the house, checking this and that, going to the kitchen to make sure that Mrs Woodley had everything ready and if there was anything she could do.
‘Bless your heart, miss, no, everything is just fine. You look a treat for sore eyes, that you do—such a pretty dress too. You run along and enjoy yourself; they’ll be arriving any minute now.’
Sadie retreated to the small sitting room. She might be in a pretty dress and a guest of Mr Trentham, but she was also his housekeeper. She would wait until almost everyone had arrived and then she would go into the drawing room.
She stayed there for almost half an hour, and not until the house was humming with voices did she cross the hall and slip into the drawing room, to be immediately pounced upon by Mr Trentham. ‘Where on earth have you been? Come and meet a few people…’
She was passed from group to group, carefully noting names and faces, noting too the beautiful clothes and the jewels the women wore, and after a time she wished that Mr Trentham would let her slip away to a quiet corner instead of keeping her by his side; the men were kind enough, but the women looked at her with unfriendly eyes and called her darling when they didn’t mean it.
But presently Mr Trentham was called away and she slipped away too. With any luck, she would be able to escape; but not just yet, it seemed. Someone had put the record player on and people were already dancing; a young man with a rather stupid face put out a hand and stopped her.
‘Let’s dance,’ he said, and whisked her off to the centre of the room. Sadie had never had much chance to dance, but she was light on her feet and quick to learn. Mr Trentham, coming back into the room, saw her apparently enjoying herself and turned away with a small frown. A minute later he was dancing with Mrs Langley.
Judging from the noise, the party was a great success. By suppertime everyone was talking at the top of his or her voice; the record player was blaring and Woodley and Teresa were having their trays of drinks emptied as fast as they could fill them. Sadie, dancing with a short stout man who talked about nothing else but the films he produced, was beginning to get a headache. The man droned on and on and she sought feverishly for a good reason for leaving him. The children… She broke in on his account of a recent film he had made and told him very politely, in a voice full of regret, that she must really go and see if the children were all right.
‘Take your duties seriously, don’t you?’ he asked slyly.
Sh
e missed the slyness. ‘That’s what I’m paid for,’ she told him, and slipped away.
She shut the drawing-room door after her and sighed with relief. The sigh turned to a gasp as it was opened at once behind her and Mr Trentham joined her. ‘And where are you off to?’ he wanted to know.
‘Just off to make sure the children are asleep.’
‘You’re not enjoying yourself, are you?’
She tempered her honesty with a white lie. ‘Well, I’m not used to this—this kind of evening.’
‘Not even in the line of duty?’
She said anxiously: ‘I’m letting you down? I’m sorry, but you must know by now that I’m not witty or clever.’ She added with a hint of bitterness: ‘I’m not even a pretty lady.’
He took her hands. ‘That isn’t what I meant. You’ll find it hard to believe, but I don’t like this kind of an evening either. But it’s part of my work; knowing everyone—that’s what I meant—in the line of duty.’
Sadie stared up at him, puzzled. ‘You mean because I work for you?’
He shook his head. ‘I’d quite forgotten that. No, I hoped…’ The door opened behind them and the short stout man came out.
‘Children by any other name,’ he said to Sadie, and dug her in the ribs, winking at her. ‘You’re a sly puss, aren’t you, girlie?’
Mr Trentham’s hand tightened on her arm. ‘You’re barking up the wrong tree, Sam. I’m sure you didn’t mean a word of that.’ His voice sent shivers down her spine and, from the look of him, down Sam’s as well.
‘No offence, just my fun—splendid young lady—my apologies.’ He looked at Mr Trentham. ‘Wanted to see you, old fellow, about that contract—it’ll only take a couple of minutes of your time.’
‘Very well—Sadie, come down again when you’ve seen to the children.’
She nodded and went upstairs. When she was out of sight, Mr Trentham turned his attention to his companion. ‘My future plans are a bit uncertain,’ he observed coolly. ‘What have you in mind?’
