She forgot about Doctor Pearson until he spoke again. “Well, it looks like you’ve found your cousin. That’s the first time I’ve seen him smile since he got here.”
“That’s him?” Peg changed her mind about going home, and went into the hall without bothering to say goodbye to Pearson. She would meet Gerald Sanderson and she would be the one to cheer him up. She owed it to Freddie.
“Yes, I realise he doesn’t want to see anyone,” Peg was saying to the strict nurse who met her in the main entrance, “but we’re related. I mean, he doesn’t actually know me. We’ve never met but…”
“It’s okay, nurse,” said a friendly voice behind her. “I’ll see her. After all I can’t turn family away.”
Peg turned to face Gerald Sanderson. “Hello,” she said, feeling her heart flutter a little.
“Hello. I’m sorry but…”
“Oh, of course. Silly me. I’m Freddie’s sister, Peg. Well it’s Margaret Louise actually, but no one calls me that.”
“Freddie Bradbourne, right?” He frowned.
“Yes, that’s right.”
“Well it’s nice to meet you, Miss Bradbourne.”
“There’s no need to stand on ceremony. Call me Peg. We are related after all. Can I call you Gerald?”
“I prefer Gerry.”
“Gerry, it is then. It is good to meet you.” He held a walking stick with one hand, so Peg took his other hand and pumped it up and down, before noticing him wince, and rub his shoulder.
“Sorry,” he said. “Got a bit of shrapnel in the shoulder.”
“Oh, of course. Sorry. Shall we go and sit outside and talk? You must tell me all about where you and Freddie have been. He won’t say anything in his letters you see, and I worry so much about him.”
“You’d worry more if I told you what things are like out there,” said Gerry.
“Oh but you see, I won’t. It’s the not knowing that’s the worst bit. Once I know I can deal with it.”
Half an hour later they sat in the grounds of Bedlington Hall drinking tea provided by one of the young nurses.
“It didn’t take you long to wrap her around your little finger,” said Peg, when the nurse had gone.
“They’re all very kind to me. So, tell me more about this suicide and the mystery of the missing boots.”
“You’re not like other men.”
“I’m not?”
“No, most young men like to just talk about themselves. Yet all you’ve done is ask me questions about my life. In the last half hour you’ve found out about my two sisters, that I don’t get in with my stepmother – except for the rare times when I do – and that I’m thinking of living in the worst house in the village. I know very little about you.”
“The truth is, Peg, I don’t remember much about me. Oh, I know my name and that I’m from Devon and that both my parents are dead, which leaves me heir to Bedlington Hall. But everything else is blurry.”
“Do you remember if you have a sweetheart or not?”
“I’m pretty certain I don’t. But I couldn’t swear to it and I wouldn’t like to mislead anyone on that point.” There was a gentle warning in his voice and a little sadness behind his eyes. “So, tell me,” he said, becoming more jocular. “Who do you think is wearing the dead man’s boots?”
Chapter Five
“I think he finds the truth too painful,” Peg said. She was sitting on the edge of Sheila’s bed, whilst Sheila sat at the dressing table, going through her night-time beauty routine. “That’s why he kept deflecting it. I think they call it survivor’s guilt. When someone is the only one to live after a catastrophe. You really must meet him, Sheila. He’s wonderful and so charming.”
Sheila rubbed cream into her face and hands. “Maybe we could persuade Veronica to invite him for dinner one night when he’s feeling better.”
“Oh her. I’d almost forgotten.”
“Forgotten what?”
“She was getting into a man’s car this morning. And worst still she seemed to like it.”
“Really?” Sheila spun around on the chintz stool, her eyes bright. “Who was it?”
“You don’t look as horrified as you should, Sheila.”
“Why should I be horrified? Veronica is still a young woman.”
“A woman who has only been a widow for six months.”
“Oh, Peg.” Sheila sighed. “What did you expect? She wasn’t the love of papa’s life and he wasn’t the love of hers. They married out of convenience. Papa because had us to look after, and her because she was one of the genteel poor, from a class which frowns upon women working. You saw the raised eyebrows when I decided to become a teacher. They were raised even higher when you went to work up at the farm. At least we are young enough to make our own way in this new world if we have to. At her age, and with no skills, all Veronica can do to survive is to marry again.”
“I can’t believe you’re not disgusted with her.” Peg pouted. “It’s disgraceful behaviour, that’s what it is. We don’t even know who he is or if he’ll be a good father to Mary.”
“Dearest, you are rather putting the cart before the horse. You saw her with a man once.”
“She’s in love with him. Or at least she’s acting as if she is, which is bad enough.”
“Well good for Veronica, that’s all I can say. Don’t you want anyone to be happy, Peg?”
“Of course I do.”
“No, I don’t think you do. You want us to all stay with you and for nothing to change, even if it means me not marrying Norman and Veronica not marrying whoever this man is that she’s seeing. But what does it matter if we’re poor and unhappy all our lives? As long as Peg Bradbourne doesn’t have to live alone.”
“That’s a very cruel thing to say, Sheila.”
“The truth usually is, dearest.”
Peg jumped up off the bed. “Well, I shall just go – alone – to my room, where I shall read – alone – and think of how happy I am going to be when I move into my new home – wherever that may be – alone.”
“Don’t hate me for being honest with you, Peg.” Sheila held out her hand. “You know I love you dearly. I just don’t see the world in the same black and white terms as you do. You just want Midchester and everyone in it to remain the same, forever, and that can’t happen. Especially with this war. It’s changing us all and when it’s over we shall never be the same again.”
Peg took it Sheila’s hand in both of hers and kissed it. “I’ll never hate you, darling, no matter what you say to me. You, Freddie and Mary are the only people I truly love.” She let go, reluctantly, and went to the door. “I do think we need to know who this man is.”
“Then ask Veronica about him. Just do it tactfully.”
“I can be tactful.”
“No you cannot. But please try not to make her feel like the whore of Babylon when you do ask.”
Peg poked out her tongue and went out into the gaslit landing. It was very dim as they had not put electricity in the house, but she could see candlelight shining under Veronica’s door. As she approached her step-mother’s room the light went out. It stopped Peg in her tracks. Veronica was not yet asleep, as she had only just put the light out, but it seemed wrong somehow to go and disturb her. Not really fancying an argument just before bed, Peg decided to wait until daylight.
***
Veronica did a good job of keeping out of Peg’s way for the next few days, as if realising her stepdaughter wanted words with her. By the time Peg came down to breakfast on Saturday morning, Veronica had gone. Sheila and Mary had nearly finished their food.
“Where is Veronica?”
“Mary said she went out early,” said Sheila.
“Where to, Mary?”
“I don’t know, Peg. A telegram came for her and then she rushed out, very happy.”
“She’ll have gone to see that man!” Peg dropped heavily into a seat at the dining table. “At this time of the morning too. It’s preposterous.”
&nb
sp; “What man?” asked Mary.
“It seems Mama has a suitor,” Sheila said gently, firing a warning glance at Peg.
“Oh how romantic,” said Mary. “Who is he?”
“We don’t know,” said Peg. “Has Mama said anything to you about it?”
Mary shook her head. “No, but when she kissed me farewell, she said that we didn’t have to worry anymore and that everything would be alright.”
“So she is going to marry him.” Peg sighed. “Well he’d better be a good father to you, Mary, or he’ll have me to answer to.”
“It will be nice to have a Papa again,” Mary said. “I didn’t have very long with ours. Not like you and Sheila.”
Peg reached over and took Mary’s hand. “I know, darling.” She had been so selfish, thinking of her own feelings, she had failed to consider Mary’s. The child was very loving, and needed a father who would love her too. Peg only hoped that Veronica’s paramour was happy and willing to take on a young daughter.
Veronica did not return that day, or that evening.
“I don’t understand it,” Peg said to Sheila on the Sunday morning as they helped Izzy the maid prepare breakfast in the kitchen. She waited a moment until Izzy had left the room. “Do you think we should call Constable Archer?”
“What shall we say? If she has spent the night with this man, she would not thank us for drawing attention to it. Think of the shame.”
“The shame would be hers, not ours,” said Peg, truculently.
“Even so, Peg, we cannot subject her to that. We must do something, and Constable Archer is discreet.”
Peg picked up the tray of tea things. “Whatever I may think of Veronica, and lord knows we have had our differences, I cannot believe she would do this to Mary. The poor child was distraught last night.”
“I’m going to phone the constable,” said Sheila. “Whether you like it or not.”
Half an hour later, Constable Archer arrived. They took him to the drawing room. “We’re sorry to bother you on a Sunday morning,” said Sheila. “It is a very delicate matter.” She coughed and blushed. “I hardly know where to start…”
“Veronica has gone out all night with a strange man and not returned,” Peg blurted out.
“We do not know that she is with a man,” Sheila said, her eyes flashing angrily at Peg. “But we do hope we can rely on your discretion if that turns out to be the case, Constable Archer.”
“Of course,” said Archer, bowing his head courteously. “Who is the man you think Mrs Bradbourne went to meet?”
“We don’t know,” said Peg. “I saw him pick her up the other day, but he was muffled up so I did not see his face. He drove a bullnose Morris Cowley in green, fourteen hundred and ninety-five cc, with a four cylinder engine.”
Archer raised his eyebrows.
“What? You think that because I’m a woman I don’t know motor cars.”
“Not at all, Miss Bradbourne. I am often surprised by the things you know. There cannot be many men in the area who drive motor cars.”
“He’d also be very old, I should think,” said Peg. “Otherwise he would be away, fighting the war, wouldn’t he?”
It was Archer’s turn to cough delicately. “Some of us would like to, Miss.”
“Oh, of course.” Peg nodded. “I’m not suggesting otherwise. I’m just making a point that most of our men are off fighting the war, so there can’t be many other eligible men of Veronica’s age or older in the area. Of course he could be young and have medical reasons, I suppose. But it’s a start.”
“And you say she received a telegram yesterday morning. If we could find out the details of that, it might be a start. I’ll check with the telegram operator. May I use your telephone?”
A few minutes later, Archer came from the hallway, looking perplexed. “I’ve had a word with Miss Watson at the exchange and she says that no telegram was sent to this house yesterday morning.”
“But Izzy, our maid said that Veronica had received a telegram,” said Sheila. “I’ll call her.”
“It was a telegram, Mr Archer,” said Izzy, when they had questioned her. “A man brought it to the house.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know, sir,” Izzy said. “He wasn’t local, but I supposed that Miss Watson had got in some help, what with there being so many telegrams lately.”
“What did he look like?”
“I don’t know, sir.”
“So not young and good looking,” said Peg, with a grin, knowing Izzy’s propensity to fall for every handsome errand boy in Midchester.
“I can’t say, Miss Bradbourne. He was wearing a scarf around his face. I thought it was odd, with it being so warm of late.”
“So someone who didn’t want to be recognised,” said Archer.
“The scarf around the face suggests it’s the man Veronica met the other day,” said Peg. “He probably hid his car around the corner somewhere.”
“If it is him…” Archer paused, looking at Izzy.
“That will be all, Izzy, thank you,” said Peg.
“If it is him, then it may be that Mrs Bradbourne has decided to stay with him,” said Archer. “I would advise against sending out a search party yet, ladies, in case it does cause embarrassment.”
“Thank you, Constable Archer,” said Sheila. “You are very kind.”
Veronica did not return that night or the night after.
“I fear it’s time for the search party,” said Sheila on the Tuesday morning.
Peg nodded sadly. “Yes, I think so too. Whatever I may think of Veronica, she would never have abandoned Mary like this. I’ll ring the constable…”
She had just reached the telephone in the hall when there was a knock on the front door. She opened it to find Constable Archer standing there with several of his officers. “Miss Bradbourne… Peg …” He said gently, having known her since she was a little girl. “We have found Mrs Bradbourne. I’m sorry…”
Chapter Six
It rained on the day of Veronica’s funeral. The family, Peg, Sheila and Mary, led the mourners into the church. There were no other relatives, only townspeople who had known the Bradbourne family for years. Peg had written to America to let Penelope Harrington know her sister was dead, but had received no reply.
“The poor woman is probably still reeling about losing her husband in such dreadful circumstances,” Sheila had said the night before, when she visited Peg’s bedroom. “Now her sister committing suicide too.” Sheila had shuddered, and jumped into the double bed, beside her sister. It was something they used to do as children, and showed how vulnerable Sheila was feeling. “Poor Mary. She’s barely spoken since it happened. What if Mrs Harrington wants to take her, Peg?”
“We shan’t let her.”
“She’s her aunt and probably her legal guardian. I’m not sure how it works.”
“We shan’t let her,” Peg insisted.
Due the nature of Veronica’s death it had taken a lot of pressure to persuade the Church to let her be buried, but her standing in the community, as the widow of a well-loved doctor, was such that the Bishop had given special dispensation due to the results of the inquest.
The inquest found that Veronica had taken an overdose of laudanum, but as no one could confirm that the lady had been in a suicidal state, so they declared an open verdict. Peg suspected this was as much to spare the family as any real doubts.
“It’s a rum do,” Peg heard Frank Yeardley say. After the interment he walked over to Peg and Sheila. “I know you’ve had a lot on, with the police sniffing around the house, so I’ve laid on some sandwiches and sherry at the pub.”
“That’s very kind, Mr Yeardley,” said Sheila. “You must let us know how much we owe you.”
“Nowt, lass… I mean Miss Bradbourne. You don’t owe me owt.”
“Thank you, Frank,” said Peg, with a wan smile.
“If there’s anything else I can do, you just let me know. You girls don’t have to go sho
rt of anything.”
Except our home, thought Peg, but did not say so. Veronica had left very little, and Peg and Sheila’s combined income would not be enough for the upkeep of a six bedroomed family house. They had even had to let Izzy go.
“You’re a good man,” Peg said. “Come on, Mary, darling. I’ll get you some pop, shall I?”
The Doctor's Daughter (The Peg Bradbourne Mysteries Book One) Page 4
