by Lily Graham
‘No, you don’t,’ he laughed. ‘Stop teasing…’
‘No, Stephen,’ I hissed. Next thing I knew his fleshy mouth was descending on mine. My arms were flailing as he locked me in an embrace. I pushed him away as hard as I could. ‘Stop it!’ I yelled.
But he wouldn’t listen. ‘Oh, come on, be kind to me.’
Suddenly he was pulled away from me.
I staggered to the side, gasping for air, staring in horror as Fen and Stephen launched themselves at each other’s throats. Fen wrestled him to the floor, but despite Stephen’s drunkenness, he was lashing out violently.
‘Stop it!’ I yelled, just as Fen landed a blow to Stephen’s face.
I wasn’t the only one to gasp, or hear the crack of bones.
‘WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?’ roared Father. ‘How dare you get into a brawl here. This is a disgrace, Waters!’
‘No, Father, it wasn’t Fen’s fault,’ I yelped.
He turned to me, eyes popping. Then he looked from me to Fen, mouth open. ‘This was over you?’ he hissed. He looked disgusted.
‘Oh yes,’ came a smooth voice. I looked up and saw Rebecca leaning against a pillar, a glass of champagne in her hand. She gave a small smile and her chestnut curls caught the glow of the lanterns. Her bright green eyes showed mock concern. ‘I saw it all. Seems young Waters there just can’t let your daughter go.’
I closed my eyes.
‘Rebecca, stop lying!’
It wasn’t me who said it, but Alice McKibbon. We all turned towards her.
‘I saw Stephen pull Tilly into the bushes and try to manhandle her. Look at him, he’s drunk.’
We all looked. Despite the blood gushing from his nose, Stephen grinned.
‘Is that true, Stephen?’ asked Rose, who was standing behind Father.
‘Just a little kiss,’ he said, holding up his thumb and index finger. ‘Thought she’d like that… I know how she likes her little secret flings.’
Fen clenched his jaw. I could see the scar on Father’s hand glow white.
‘Mr Waters heard her yelling – I’m sure he was only trying to help,’ said Alice.
Fen stood up.
‘Is that true?’ asked Father.
He inclined his head once.
Father looked at us again and gave a stiff nod. He ordered one of the footmen to take Stephen to his room then turned to leave.
I looked at Alice as she came to stand next to me. ‘You know you never stutter when you’re sticking up for someone?’
‘D-Don’t I?’
I shook my head. ‘I think you should give that old tongue of yours a talking to – let it start speaking up for itself.’
She grinned. ‘She’s not wrong, you know.’
‘Who?’
‘Rebecca. I d-don’t think it was just him coming to your defence. I doubt your father does either.’
I sighed. ‘I know.’
I found the first note under the flowerpot by Old Tom.
I gave a half-smile. It had been almost four years since I’d received one. It was just one coded word, though I doubt anyone would have understood it anyway.
Mantua.
In Romeo and Juliet, it’s the place that Romeo is banished to after the death of Juliet’s cousin, Tybalt.
Fen no longer had his lessons at the house, nor was he invited to any of the other parties. I think it was Father’s way of trying to avoid the inevitable. If Mother could have had her way, the entire Waters family would have left on the morning train the following day.
After the Hammonds left, I heard my parents arguing late one night. I crept out of my room and edged closer to their door.
‘He stays, Helena. That’s final.’
‘No, John – you can’t, not now. She’s finishing up at school, then what? You heard Rebecca, it could so easily happen again, and this time—’
‘It won’t.’
‘How can you be so sure?’
Then, unbelievably, I heard my father say words I’d wished he’d say a thousand times before. ‘Would it be the worst thing in the world. I mean, really?’
‘You can’t be serious! Of course it would. For one, she’s far too young.’
‘And later – when they’re older?’
‘I will not accept this! You’re speaking like it’s inevitable. It’s an infatuation, and a dangerous one – one that she doesn’t need to ruin her life over.’
‘Perhaps she’s been too sheltered here,’ pointed out Father.
‘She hasn’t been here in years, thanks to you.’
‘Don’t pretend that you didn’t send her and Rose to that school for a reason.’
‘I don’t – I did that deliberately, and I’m proud of the outcome. But Tilly hasn’t been here almost at all. Her own home,’ she added.
‘So what’s your solution – throw her at every male you can find?’
‘No, but perhaps it’s time for something else.’
A few days later, I discovered their solution. It was to become a debutante, spending the season in London and being officially declared of marriageable age to society.
‘Don’t pout, Tilly. I think it’s wonderful that your aunt Cassie has agreed to sponsor you.’
I didn’t.
Rose was livid. ‘I can’t believe you get to do this and I didn’t – I mean, it’s utterly wasted on you.’
I couldn’t help but agree. I had no intention of marrying anyone, and now that Fen was back in my life I had no intention of letting him go again.
I also didn’t want to quit in my final year of school. ‘I have responsibilities – I can’t just leave.’
‘Why?’ scoffed my mother. ‘Now that Rose is engaged, why would you possibly go back?’
‘Well, to carry on, of course.’
‘Carry on?’
‘Yes, to finish my final year and perhaps try for a place at St Hilda’s at Oxford.’
Her eyebrows rose. ‘Your father would never pay for that. Good Lord, sometimes I just don’t know where you come from!’
I looked at her and frowned. ‘You know, neither do I.’
Part III
Chapter Forty-Four
Present day
‘Are you sure he’s up to visitors?’ I asked Adam for the third time, as we parked the car and headed up to his uncle’s house by the harbour.
‘Yes, don’t worry. And he’s curious to meet the person who bought the cottage.’
I nodded. ‘Okay.’ I was nervous about meeting him, because I knew that Graham Waters had mixed feelings about the cottage. Also, I didn’t want to disturb a sick man with my questions.
The Waters’ home was a sweet terraced house near Tregollan harbour. It had neat flowerboxes and a clipped drive. As soon as we appeared, the door opened.
‘Aunt Maggie,’ said Adam, giving an older woman with salt-and-pepper hair a hug. She was thin and tired-looking, with dark circles under her eyes, but her smile was warm.
‘This is Victoria,’ he said, introducing us.
‘Mrs Waters,’ I said.
‘Oh no, love, just call me Maggie, everyone does. Come in, dinner’s almost ready. Did a roast…’
‘Oh, wow, thanks – that’s so much trouble,’ I said.
She raised her hands. ‘It’s no trouble,’ she laughed, ‘been doing this every Sunday for thirty years, could do it in my sleep now.’
We laughed and she led us into the living room, where a man with silver hair was lying on the sofa and shouting at the television, where a football match was causing him some distress. ‘No, bloody offside – you tosser!’
‘Hello, Uncle Graham,’ greeted Adam with a laugh.
He looked up and grinned. ‘Adam, my boy!’ he said with enthusiasm.
Adam leant over and gave him a hug. ‘Hello, old man.’
‘Old man, ha!’
‘This is Victoria,’ said Adam, introducing us.
‘Ah yes – the mysterious cottage buyer,’ he said, hitting the pause button. ‘TV
record – been saving marriages since 2007,’ he said with a wink.
I laughed. ‘Really?’
‘Well, no – not sure when it was invented, but ever since, probably. Now, sit, sit,’ he said, and Adam and I took a seat on the other vacant sofa.
‘Shall I give you a hand, Mrs – Maggie?’ I asked.
‘Oh no, don’t worry, make yourself welcome.’
‘How’re you feeling, Uncle?’ asked Adam.
‘Ah, I’m grand, Adam, just grand.’
Seeing the expression on Adam’s face, he smiled. ‘We’re through with the chemo now, it’s a good thing, trust me,’ he winked. Then he looked at me. ‘Couldn’t find a better nephew. These past few months, he’s been a godsend with the business – though you’re meant to be closing it down, not ramping up production,’ he said, turning back to him.
Adam ran a hand through his hair. ‘You try explaining that to some of the villagers. Every week they keep bringing me new work.’
Graham shrugged. ‘Not the end of the world. Anyway, you may have reason to stay… put down some roots, take over instead of shutting it down,’ he looked from Adam to me. ‘Know what I mean?’
‘Yeah, Uncle, I think people on Mars know what you mean. I’m pretty sure they’re out there now, going a darker shade of green on my behalf.’
I bit down a laugh. I couldn’t deny that the idea of Adam staying longer was something worth celebrating. Though I did wish that Jenna would leave. She’d found herself a job at a local PR firm and was keeping herself busy, getting on everyone’s nerves as she tried to turn Tregollan into the next St Ives. And in her spare time, she kept trying to win Adam back.
I’d run into her at the Harbour Cafe again, and she’d mentioned that she’d drummed up some interest from a five-star hotel chain who were going to make an offer on the Black Horse Inn. ‘Can you just imagine what that’ll do to this town?’ she asked with glee.
‘Yes,’ I said, ‘and I’m not sure it would be a good thing at all.’ Hating the idea of turning this unspoilt part of the country into something it wasn’t, I frowned. ‘Aren’t you staying there now?’ I asked, wondering at her incredible lack of tact.
She simply shrugged. ‘Exactly – I’ll be doing everyone a service. Just wait.’
Before I left, she called out, ‘So I hear that you and Adam are an item now, even after my little warning the other day?’ She gave a fake laugh. ‘I’m only joking. Look, to be honest, I’m grateful to you.’
‘Grateful?’ I asked in surprise.
‘Yes,’ she said with a wide smile, tucking her long, sleek red hair back with a manicured hand. ‘He needs to get it out of his system – all that anger and rage. You’re the rebound. I don’t blame him for that. He’s just doing what he needs to do. So, in the meantime, I’ll be here, waiting, until he comes to his senses.’
My mouth fell open. ‘He already came to his senses – that’s why he’s with me and not you.’
She gave me a casual smile. ‘Like I said, I’m grateful.’
I shook my head. ‘You should be, he’s happy now.’
It was the first time I saw her smile falter.
I’d spent the next few days trying not to let her words get to me. She had the sort of insane confidence that could make a saint second-guess himself. Adam wasn’t on the rebound, I decided, firmly. Or was he?
After lunch, which included roast beef, Yorkshire pudding, and the best apple pie I’d ever had, Graham turned to me and said, ‘Adam said there were some things you wanted to ask me – about the cottage?’
I hesitated.
‘Go on, I won’t bite – been ordered not to,’ he said with a grin.
I laughed. ‘Well, Adam told me that the reason the cottage was abandoned was because of the rumours—’
‘That’s not why it was abandoned.’
‘But Uncle Graham, you told me about the rumours, the curse – said it gave you the heebie-jeebies.’
‘And it does,’ he said, shivering. ‘No offence, Victoria, but that’s not why the family abandoned it.’
‘Was it because of what happened to your grandfather?’ I asked.
‘You mean when he was a baby?’
‘A baby?’
‘Yes, well, my great-grandmother was pregnant with my grandfather when she came to live with her sister. Her husband had just died, around the same time the Aspreys left. It was all very unexpected. My great-grandmother never spoke about what happened at that cottage, but by then there were enough rumours in the village, so as my grandfather grew up, she told him they’d had nothing to do with the place. Most people thought it was cursed because of all the noises they used to hear down there. Then one day, when my grandfather was about fifty at least, she told him that actually he was the owner of the old, abandoned cottage. The deed said it was to go to Michael Waters’ heir. By then he wouldn’t touch the place if you paid him. I have to say, we’ve all sort of felt the same way.’
I blinked. Adam and I shared a look. ‘You know, I was so sure that your great grandfather was Fen,’ I said. ‘I never realised that they had another child afterwards and that’s where you come from.’
He shook his head. ‘Neither did I.’
‘Fen?’ asked Graham.
‘Michael Fenwick Waters – I suppose he was your great grandfather’s older brother.’
He looked at us like we were mad. ‘Alfie never had a brother.’
Chapter Forty-Five
Cornwall, 1914
On 4 August 1914, one word turned all our plans to ashes: we were at war.
At first we went about our lives as if nothing had happened. Mother was surprised when my aunt Cassie wrote to her and said that under the circumstances my coming out would have to be postponed, so at least I was able to go back to school.
Rose would be staying at home. She’d gotten what she wanted – which was the bejewelled engagement band on her finger. She would spend the next few months plumping up her trousseau. Her first words after she heard of the pronouncement of war were, ‘But what about my wedding?’
Father snapped at her. ‘Is that your only concern, truly?’
‘Shouldn’t it be?’ she’d asked.
‘What happens if they call Charles to service?’ he asked, his voice hard.
‘Why on earth would they do that?’ she said in real surprise.
Father looked at her in disbelief.
Fen and I didn’t get a lot of time together before I had to leave for school, but we snatched every moment we could. Midnight had been our time as children, and now as we verged into adulthood, dawn took its place – at the cove.
It was where we spilled all our secrets. Fen told me that, over the past few years his father had gotten worse.
‘Mam had to call in for a doctor the other day – after we got the news. It’s the first time she’s ever done that.’
War was the only news anyone spoke about these days. In the beginning, people were stockpiling supplies and snatching at newspapers, as if there would be a shortage of paper overnight.
‘But I thought he was doing better here?’
I remembered how we’d spoken about it here, years before. About his father’s episodes, how the fear would make him senseless. It explained why sometimes, now, he had to be taken home from Idyllwild, and why Fen had to fill his place, and perhaps why Father had ensured that they would have a future agent in him.
‘It’s his old troubles really. The doctor prescribed some sedatives and at least that’s calmed him down a little. Me mam hates it – says people are beginning to talk.’
I thought of the rumours that had surrounded the Waters family since they’d first arrived. ‘I think they always have, Fen.’
‘Yeah, but now it’s not like he can work. And with the war coming it just makes it worse.’
‘Why? I mean, it’s not like they would call him up, would they? I mean, not when he’s ill?’
He shook his head. ‘No, but I might go.’
I sat up
, leaning back to look at him. Felt the cold on my side from where I’d been lying warm against him along the rock wall.
‘What? No, you won’t.’
He nodded. ‘It’s my duty, Tilly,’ he said seriously.
My mouth fell open. ‘You can’t be serious – not after what it’s done to your father.’
He shook his head. ‘That’s what it means to serve – to fight for King and country.’
I blinked; I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. ‘But Fen…’ I tried to be rational, calm. ‘Even so, I don’t think they’ll let you fight anyway.’
He gave me a hurt look. ‘Because of my foot, you mean?’
I bit my lip. ‘Yes, but not just that. They aren’t heartless. You’re your parents’ only son, and if they need you at Idyllwild, I’m sure you won’t have to go.’
He stood up. ‘I think the war is about more important things than a flower farm. I mean, my father fought for something he wasn’t so keen on, with imperialism, but this is different, Tilly. This is our home and it’s being threatened, we can’t ignore that. You can’t ask me to.’
I stood up. ‘Oh yes, I can.’
‘Tilly,’ he said, kissing me hard, holding my face between his hands.
My head swam, and when I came up for air, I said, ‘You can kiss me as long as you like, Fenwick Waters, but I’m not changing my mind about this. I haven’t gone for years without seeing you to risk losing you again.’
He looked at me, gave me a small smile, and said, ‘Alright then.’ Then he kissed me again. ‘I’ll just keep trying.’
Most of the young men were like Fen, jumped-up and proud and excited to serve. The footman, Edmund, had been one of the first to volunteer, and he was cheered on by everyone in the household – except Father.
Mother summoned Edmund into the drawing room to receive her congratulations. I don’t think I was the only one who saw Father’s stilted speech, heard how empty his words sounded.
‘Really, John,’ she admonished. ‘You could have tried to sound a bit more sincere.’
‘Sincere? He’s a fool, Helena. They all are. The only thing that young man has volunteered for is to get himself killed. Why should any of us be proud of that?’
