The Fairbairn Girls

by Una-Mary Parker

  Laura prattled on, the perfect hostess, busy introducing everyone to each other, and Celia thought this is what Paradise must be like. She’d never met so many titles in the space of twenty minutes and she couldn’t wait to tell her mother all about it.

  Bursts of laughter coming from the far end of the lawn where some of the men had congregated attracted Hugo Brownlow’s attention and he realized the revelry was due to Laura’s husband, who seemed to be recounting some amusing incident.

  Hugo strolled over to join them, leaving Celia in animated conversation with Sir Humphrey, who looked exceedingly pompous and boring.

  Walter stepped forward to shake his hand. ‘You must be Hugo Brownlow – my wife told me you were coming today. How very nice to meet you. Do you know . . .?’

  Hugo found himself being introduced to some more people but then Walter didn’t move on as Laura had done. He turned to Hugo and spoke with genuine charm. ‘How was your journey? You’ve come over from Glasgow, haven’t you? Has Laura shown you where you and your wife are sleeping or were you just flung to the wolves?’ His dark eyes twinkled good-humouredly. ‘Laura is the most marvellous hostess once you’ve pinned her down, which is about as easy as nailing a butterfly, but it really is most good of you to have come all this way just for a couple of nights.’

  Melting under Walter’s personable manner, Hugo reflected that Celia would have been prepared to travel the length of Britain just to be in a room full of people like this.

  ‘It’s our pleasure. You have a lovely place here.’ Hugo glanced around at the large garden.

  ‘Yes. I’m very lucky. Laura is the most wonderful woman, too.’ He spoke with such depth of feeling – almost sadness – that Hugo raised his eyebrows, wondering if this splendid house and all that went with it was Laura’s dowry. Yet Walter had a confident, prosperous air about him.

  Curious to know more, he asked, ‘So, are you in business?’

  ‘I was in the army,’ he replied briskly. ‘Now I’ve got a couple of directorships. Keeps me busy, you know.’

  ‘Do you have children?’ It struck Hugo there was something missing in Walter Leighton-Harvey’s life, although he looked like a man who had everything.

  ‘A son by my first wife and Laura and I have a daughter,’ he replied briefly before turning to greet some new arrivals. The moment of intimacy was over, leaving Hugo vaguely puzzled, pondering on his enigmatic host.

  At dinner that night twelve guests were seated around the beautifully laid table and Celia was in a fever of excitement and nerves as she took her seat next to Lord Kelso. ‘So you’re married to Lady Laura’s sister?’ she gushed.

  ‘Yes. Di and I got married a few years ago. Just before the Boer War, actually.’ She found him to be a mild-mannered man with kind eyes and a quiet voice. ‘How long have you known Laura and Walter?’

  She longed to say, ‘Oh, ages . . .’ but fear of being found out forced her to admit, ‘Not that long. We met at the Children’s Aid Society to discuss raising funds for orphans. Lady Laura said she’d write to our local MP. She thinks he should tell the Prime Minister that they should do more for orphans.’

  Robert Kelso smiled and glanced at the head of the table where Laura was talking animatedly to the Duke of Montrose. She was wearing a purple chiffon evening dress which showed off her smooth white shoulders and diamond drop earrings that quivered when she moved her head. Whatever she was saying was causing the Duke and those sitting near her much laughter, but Robert detected an undercurrent of desperation in her manner that worried him. Her gaiety this evening was brittle, which was unlike her, and her smile too brilliant to be genuine. Diana had been shocked by the way Laura had run off and married Walter, whom she’d barely known. She’d seemed genuinely happy at first but tonight she was showing signs of strain, as if she was covering up something, though he’d no idea what.

  ‘She’s very beautiful, isn’t she?’ Celia remarked.

  ‘Yes. Have you met her other sister, Lizzie?’ he asked conversationally. ‘They’re the image of each other but their characters are completely different.’

  Celia looked intrigued. She longed to know all about the famous Fairbairn girls of whom she’d heard so much. ‘In what way?’

  ‘Laura is more resilient. Stronger. She’s a great survivor.’

  Celia blinked. She wouldn’t have thought Laura had anything to survive, what with her money, her status and her position. Then she glanced across the table to where Lizzie was sitting in cream lace, talking quietly to the man on her left. ‘They do look alike,’ she agreed. ‘Quite fascinating.’

  ‘Lizzie is probably the most pragmatic one. My wife Diana is the most sensitive of them all.’ There was a pause, then he spoke again, thoughtfully this time. ‘Some have risen above the tragedies that have fallen on their family . . . and some haven’t.’

  Celia stared at him. Was he referring to the loss of Lochlee Castle? Rather than appear ignorant she nodded sadly, as if in understanding.

  ‘That’s what happens with large families,’ he added with finality. Then he raised his head, a look of alarm in his eyes. ‘I can smell burning. Can you smell something?’

  Celia sniffed the air like a busy little terrier. ‘Yes, I can!’ she exclaimed, wide-eyed.

  One of the parlour maids came running into the dining room at that moment. ‘Fire!’ she shrieked. ‘Fire!’

  Walter bounded to his feet, pushing his chair back roughly. ‘Where’s the fire?’ he demanded.

  ‘Upstairs,’ she wailed, pointing with a trembling hand.

  Hobbs, the butler, appeared. ‘I think your bedroom is alight, sir,’ he blurted out, panicked.

  A commotion broke out, with people jumping to their feet, all talking at once; some running into the hall, others going into the garden through the French windows.

  ‘Call the fire brigade!’ Walter shouted to Hobbs above the din.

  ‘Everyone into the garden,’ Laura told the guests. Then she ran from the room into the hall. ‘Help me bring down the children,’ she said to Walter, but he was already racing ahead of her up the stairs. She followed, picking up her long skirt so as not to trip.

  The first-floor landing was filling up with smoke seeping from under their bedroom door.

  Walter yelled, ‘Stay there, Laura! I’ll get them.’

  ‘No, I’m coming with you!’ she replied. The night nursery was on the floor above and as they ran up the second flight of stairs they met Nanny. She was carrying Caroline with one arm and holding Neil’s hand with the other.

  ‘Well done, Nanny,’ Walter said, grabbing Caroline.

  ‘Quick, the smoke is getting worse. Are you all right, Nanny? Can you manage?’

  ‘I’m all right, M’Lady.’ She covered her nose and mouth with her starched apron. By the time they arrived in the hall they were all coughing and their eyes were stinging.

  ‘Take Caroline, will you, Laura?’ Walter said breathlessly. ‘Stay in the garden well away from the house. Don’t let Neil out of your sight.’

  Then he dashed off to find out if the fire brigade were on their way. The acrid smell of burning was everywhere now, filling the air with smoke and dangerous burning particles. Everyone stood huddled together at the far end of the lawn, watching in horrified silence as flames licked the curtains of Laura’s bedroom window, shattering the glass which exploded in a shower of fragments, landing on the terrace below.

  ‘Keep well back!’ Walter shouted.

  ‘I hope to God it doesn’t spread,’ Robert observed in a low voice.

  Diana stood close beside him, her eyes filled with tears. ‘This is too wretched for Laura. Her bedroom was so beautiful. What on earth could have caused it?’ she said in a low voice.

  ‘The fire brigade are on their way,’ Walter announced thankfully. Then he turned back to Hobbs, who was hovering helplessly. ‘Have you any idea what caused this?’ he asked abruptly.

  ‘I don’t know, sir. All the staff were working downstairs, attending to
your dinner guests, but then I was aware of smoke . . .’

  ‘I know. I know.’ Walter frowned worriedly as he went over to Laura, who stood with Caroline still half asleep in her arms. ‘Have you any idea what started the fire? You did put out the oil lamps, didn’t you?’

  Laura looked at him in surprise. ‘You know I did. You saw me do it.’

  He still looked puzzled. ‘That’s what I thought.’

  At that moment they all heard the clanging of the fire engine’s bell as it came tearing up the drive. Everyone stopped talking and watched as the crew started uncoiling a long hosepipe while the chief shouted, ‘Back away please, everybody.’

  From where she was standing on the lawn Celia could see the fire was worsening. ‘Will they be able to put it out?’ she asked her husband as she clung to his arm. ‘Supposing it spreads?’

  ‘They’ll contain it,’ Hugo replied reassuringly. ‘These new internal combustion engines carry much more water than the old engines. Look, they’re putting up a ladder and they’re going to tackle the flames through the window.’

  Celia’s head was in a spin. She could dine out on the experience for months to come. The most remarkable thing to her was seeing how calm Laura seemed to be. Her lips were pressed together and her eyes were filled with anxiety, but her emotions were under control and that, to Celia, was a sure sign of good breeding.

  ‘We must leave and go home first thing in the morning,’ Hugo said.

  ‘What?’ she spun round to glare at him. ‘Go home? But we’ve been invited to stay until Monday morning!’ she squealed in horror, thinking of all the new clothes she’d bought for this visit and all the new friendships she was about to acquire.

  Keeping his voice low, Hugo spoke sharply. ‘How would you like it if people you hardly knew remained as house guests when your home had been wrecked by fire and water damage? Of course we must leave. It’s one thing for her sisters to stay on if they want to, but we must certainly depart. I’m sure their other guests will also leave under the circumstances. And without question,’ he added vindictively.

  It was, Celia was to later recount to her mother, one of the greatest disappointments of her life to be denied the chance of forging a friendship with the Duke and Duchess of Melrose.

  An hour later the fire was out, leaving Laura’s bedroom a charred and blackened ruin. Waterlogged and still steaming, nothing had been spared. The silver-backed brushes she’d had since she’d been a child were now twisted and blackened pieces of metal, while the oil paintings now hung on the walls like torn rags. Even the antique armoire where she kept her clothes had been utterly destroyed.

  Lizzie put her arm around Laura’s shoulders. ‘I’m so sorry, my dear. This is a dreadful shock for you, especially with all these people staying. Do you know how it started?’

  Laura shook her head. ‘I can’t understand it. I know I turned off the oil lamps. Isn’t the smell terrible? And have you seen the state of the hall? The firemen took their hoses into the house as well as through the window. Oh, God, it’s such a mess.’

  ‘Why don’t you all come back and stay with us?’ Diana suggested, joining them at that moment.

  ‘No, thank you, Di. I must stay here. There will be such a lot to do,’ Laura replied, hitching Caroline on to her other hip. ‘I don’t want the children’s routine disturbed more than necessary.’

  It was a while before the firemen left, as they stayed to make sure there were no smouldering embers. Meanwhile, the guests were allowed back into the unaffected wing of the house so those who wanted to could go to bed.

  ‘I’m so sorry.’ Laura kept apologizing to those who lingered downstairs in the drawing room because their rooms were considered unsafe. ‘This is not quite the weekend I’d planned for you all, so please come and stay again.’

  It was obvious, even to Celia, that the correct thing to do was to depart. She and Hugo were just about to say goodnight to their hosts when the fire chief came over to where Laura and Walter were now sitting in the hall.

  ‘Are you off now?’ Walter asked.

  ‘Yes, sir. We’ll return tomorrow to carry out further investigations but we can be sure of one thing.’ He paused, his face still flushed and smeared with soot and sweat. ‘That fire was started deliberately.’

  ‘Not again, for heaven’s sake!’ Laura jumped up from where she was sitting in the garden talking to Diana while they watched their husbands playing tennis. ‘Di, can you look after Caroline?’

  ‘What’s the matter?’

  Laura didn’t answer but, picking up her long, navy-blue skirt, she ran towards the house in obvious panic. At that moment a sudden breeze swept across the lawn and Diana could smell it, too. The pungent, acrid smell of burning. Gathering Caroline up in her arms, she raced over to the tennis court. ‘Walter! I think the house is on fire again,’ she shouted.

  The soft plop plop of tennis balls hitting rackets stopped immediately. Then she saw Robert, tearing up the path that led to Lasswade Hall, followed by Walter, who was struggling to keep up with the younger man.

  The sudden crack of shattering glass as a ground-floor window burst with heat made them halt with shock as they saw flames were flickering around the window frame and the cream brocade curtains were already hanging in black tatters. Smoke came pouring out, spreading across the garden as the breeze grew stronger.

  ‘Laura! Laura!’ Walter roared, terror in his voice. ‘Laura, for God’s sake, where are you?’ He turned in desperation to Diana. ‘Where did she go?’ he shouted.

  ‘I’ll go round to the front of the house,’ Robert offered, speeding away.

  At that moment Laura appeared from the other side of the house, breathless and with her hair tumbling down from its usual smooth bun.

  ‘I’ve sent the boot boy to fetch the fire brigade as he has a bicycle and I’ve managed to close the drawing-room door to prevent the fire spreading into the hall.’ Her eyes were red-rimmed and Diana wondered if it was due to the smoke or tears.

  Walter strode over and looked into her face. ‘Are you all right, my dear?’ he murmured. ‘For a moment I feared . . .’

  ‘I’m all right, Walter,’ she replied, although she was obviously very shaken. ‘We just have to pray the fire brigade come quickly.’

  Caroline whimpered, ‘Muzzie’ as she stretched her small arms towards Laura.

  ‘It’s all right, darling,’ she replied, taking her gently from Diana.

  The servants came pouring out of the house now, led by Hobbs.

  ‘Everyone to the far end of the lawn,’ Walter commanded. ‘We don’t want anyone struck by flying glass.’

  Pale and shaken, the sisters sank down on to their chairs again while Laura cuddled Caroline.

  ‘How did it start?’ Diana exclaimed, leaning closer while in the distance the firemen were getting the flames under control. ‘This is the second fire you’ve had, isn’t it?’

  ‘The third.’ Laura’s voice broke.

  Diana stared at her as if she couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

  ‘Third?’ she repeated. ‘What’s the cause? Is it your oil lamps? You know they need regular cleaning and the wick trimmed.’

  Laura looked immensely tired. ‘The lamps weren’t lit in the rooms where the fires started.’

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me before? Someone must have a grudge against you and Walter and you should tell the police.’

  Laura closed her eyes, not answering. ‘I’m almost at the end of my tether,’ she murmured eventually.

  ‘You’re keeping something from me. What is it?’

  ‘No, nothing. I’m just tired. The thought of having the insurance people here again, wanting me to write out a list of everything that has been destroyed, then there’s the business of getting new curtains and rugs and furniture. Not that we can replace the antiques.’

  ‘Why don’t you come and stay with Robert and me for a bit? Bring Caroline and her nanny too, if you like. There’s plenty of room at Cranley Court.’r />
  ‘Maybe in a while. I need to see to things here first.’

  Diana knew her elder sister so well she could read her like an open book. Something was wrong and Laura was either too proud or too scared to tell her what it was. She leaned closer and talked in a low voice.

  ‘Are you having trouble with Neil? Stepchildren can create havoc in a family.’

  ‘I can’t help feeling sorry for the boy. When he was two years old he was the one who found his mother’s body, you know. She was lying at the bottom of the stairs and her neck was broken. I don’t think he’ll ever get completely over his loss. I think he resents me being here but Walter and I hope he’ll come to terms with it when he’s older. He is only nine and all we can do is reassure him that he’s much loved.’

  ‘Poor little mite. That explains a lot. It must have been terrible for Walter, too.’

  ‘I think he was quite broken-hearted at the time. Priscilla was a sweet woman but desperately stupid.’

  Two hours later the fire had been extinguished, although the firemen were keeping watch in case there were any hidden embers, but the room had been gutted and blackened by smoke and what remained of the contents was steaming dankly. Worse was the destruction of all the antiques which had been saved from Lochlee Castle. They were her only dowry.

  After Nanny had come to fetch Caroline for her bath and bed, Laura burst into tears. The collection of furniture and family portraits, familiar objects she’d known and loved since she’d been small, had been wiped out in one afternoon. It felt like she was saying goodbye to her youth and the happy childhood she’d had. Now there was nothing but the pungent, acrid smell of destruction. The tears flowed silently down her cheeks and she suddenly felt afraid. Who hated them so much . . . or was it only she who was hated? Someone was intent on some sort of mad revenge and they had to find out who it could be. Next time they might not be lucky enough to escape with their lives. With deepening concern, Laura decided she could no longer bury her head in the sand. It was time she faced her hidden fears.

  Nanny came hurrying into the room, bustling with bad tidings.