All Is Fair

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All Is Fair Page 3

by Dee Garretson


  I felt a pang of jealousy at the sight of the aeroplanes. Even if my father would ever allow me to fly, with the war on, there were no aeroplanes or opportunities available for teaching girls. Someday I would learn, though. The war couldn’t last forever.

  When we were almost to the front door, I saw a curtain move in an upstairs window, in what had been Crispin’s room. But Crispin’s room, along with most of the other rooms in the house, had been closed off. I wondered if someone had gone in to air out the room and forgotten to make sure the window was shut tight, making the wind move the curtain. I’d ask Miss Tanner, the housekeeper, to check it.

  I didn’t like going into Crispin’s room. I didn’t like seeing the old hourglass that sat on his desk. He’d found it in the attic and declared it a perfect prop for his Father Time character in one of our Christmas theatricals. We’d all laughed as he crept about the makeshift stage wrapped in an old sheet, carrying it and croaking, Gather ye rosebuds while ye may, Old Time is still a-flying; and this same flower that smiles today tomorrow will be dying.

  I didn’t realize that Lettie had brought the cart to a stop at the front door until the pony stamped his hooves and blew air out of his nose.

  “I’m sorry, Lettie. I was woolgathering,” I said, jumping down, “and I’m keeping Sunny from his stall.”

  As they drove away, I walked up the steps and into the hall, immediately aware of how quiet it was. I’d known the staff would be in the lower part of the house and the upstairs would be empty, but I’d expected some sound. Then I realized what was missing: Someone had forgotten to wind the hall clock.

  A noise from the morning room almost made me drop my bag. Before I could react, my sister, Margaret, walked into the hall. “Mina? What are you doing home? Is something wrong?”

  I was just as surprised as she was. She was supposed to be in London. “I’ve come home from school,” I said, as if it was perfectly normal. “Didn’t Miss Tanner tell you?”

  “You didn’t get expelled, did you?” she asked.

  “No, of course I didn’t get expelled.” Leave it to Margaret to assume the worst.

  “So why are you here? Does Father know you’ve left school?” She sounded almost angry.

  “Yes.” I had to think of a reason fast, so I said the first thing that popped into my head. “There was a measles outbreak and classes have been suspended temporarily. Some girls stayed on, but I’m sure I can make myself more useful here. It’s obvious Mr. Applewhite needs help. The gardens look abandoned.” I had noticed as we came up the drive how unkempt the gardens had become with only elderly Mr. Applewhite to care for them. Both of the undergardeners had been called up the previous year.

  “You’d rather muck about in the garden than have fun with your friends away from all this war nonsense?”

  I didn’t understand why she still seemed angry. “Yes, I would.” I tried to sound as if I meant it. “What are you doing here?” I couldn’t imagine a reason for my sister to leave London. Margaret avoided Lincolnshire at all costs, saying it was too deadly dull for words. I noticed that she didn’t look herself. My sister had always been thin, but now her thinness seemed brittle, and there were shadows under her eyes. “Have you been ill?”

  “No, I couldn’t bear the city any longer. I came home for a few days about a month ago and when I went back to London, I realized I couldn’t stay.” She walked over to one of the tables that edged the walls and moved the vase on it a few inches. “London is nothing like it used to be. Knowing there could be a zeppelin raid at any time set my nerves on edge. You can’t imagine the horror of them overhead.” She turned back to me. “And I’ve found I’m terrible at nursing. There, I’ve said it. I can’t bear to see people in pain. Poor souls are better off without me. I thought I could be of more use here.” Her eyes dropped away from mine and she became very intent upon examining her nails.

  I knew that gesture meant she was lying, at least about being of more use here. She never realized how easily she gave herself away. I’d find out the truth eventually. Margaret was not only bad at telling lies, but also bad at keeping secrets, and I was very, very good at discovering them. Once I’d learned my father had been a spy, I’d wanted to be one too, and practiced by tracking my subjects throughout the house and grounds. It had always driven my older siblings mad.

  Margaret patted her hair. “And I’m in desperate need of a new lady’s maid. I can’t believe how awful I look! I thought while I was here I might hire one from among the local girls, even if I have to train her. I couldn’t find anyone in London after mine quit to work at a munitions factory. I don’t know what came over that woman.”

  I didn’t comment on this, but I wasn’t surprised. My sister never kept maids for long. When Margaret was a child, my mother had always described her as the “just so” child—everything had to be in order and as she expected, or a flood of tears followed. Since Margaret had lost her husband, her desire for order had only grown. Even though she annoyed me at times, I felt awful for her. The world Margaret wanted to live in had never existed, except maybe in books. I suspected that’s why her room still held her collection of Mrs. Molesworth’s stories, her childhood favorites of happy families and happy places.

  I wondered if Margaret’s return had anything to do with my telegram. Would my father involve her too? “Does Father know you are home?”

  “I mentioned it, but he is so busy, he may not have paid attention,” she said. Once again she examined her nails. She was lying again, which meant she hadn’t actually told him she was coming home, although I couldn’t think of a reason why.

  The door to the lower level opened and Miss Tanner, the housekeeper, came into the hall. “I’m sorry I wasn’t in the hall to meet you, Lady Thomasina.”

  “Hello, Miss Tanner,” I said. “It’s quite all right.” It still jarred me to see her, because Miss Tanner was so unlike every other housekeeper I’d met. The woman was far younger than most for such a senior position at a large house, though it was hard to tell exactly how old she was, because she wore her hair pulled back in a severe bun and dressed in dark, old-fashioned clothes. The first time I’d met her, I decided she would make a wonderful character in a gothic novel—the sinister housekeeper hoarding her secrets.

  At least the woman was extremely efficient. I had to give her that. I didn’t know where my father had found someone in the middle of a war who was so frighteningly unflappable, but with the family scattered, the house needed a Miss Tanner to keep it running.

  “Did you know Mina was coming home?” Margaret asked her. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Miss Tanner’s mouth twitched, but her expression didn’t change. “I’m sorry, Lady Margaret. I assumed you knew. Yes, I received a telegram this morning.”

  “Well, I didn’t.” Margaret put a hand to her forehead. “I’ve got such a headache. I’m going upstairs for the rest of the afternoon. I’ll have a tray in my room for dinner, Miss Tanner. Oh, and please talk to the new maid. The girl talks too much. If she brings up my tray, I don’t want to engage in a long conversation with her.”

  “Yes, Lady Margaret,” Miss Tanner said. “I’ll speak to Hannah. May I take your bag up to your room?” she asked me.

  “Thank you, no. I can carry it,” I said, following Margaret up the stairs. She disappeared into her own room without another word, and I went into mine. I noticed the chill first, and then the fine layer of dust that covered everything. The room had never been dusty. I set my bag down, took out a handkerchief, and wiped off the dressing table and the top of my bookcase. The silence upstairs was even worse than it had been downstairs. It was as if time had stopped at the house, or gathered into itself to shut out the war.

  I didn’t want to stay in my room, but I couldn’t make the staff set up the dining room just for me if Margaret was having a tray in her room. I’d have one too. If I could have, I would have just eaten something simple in the kitchen, but I knew Miss Tanner would never allow it.

 
I took a tour of the gardens to see how much work needed to be done. It was as bad as I feared. I vowed to start first thing in the morning.

  When it grew dark, I went back inside and read until Lettie brought up the tray. She was quiet and I noticed that she looked very tired, so we didn’t talk much. I suspected she wanted to get back downstairs and finish whatever chores Miss Tanner had set for her so she could go to bed.

  After dinner, I paced around my room on pins and needles, hoping someone would appear, someone who I could help. I reread the telegram to see if I had been too quick to think I’d deciphered it correctly. But no matter how many other ways I tried to find a different message, there was nothing else there.

  As I was getting ready for bed, a noise from the hallway startled me. I opened the door to find Jove, my father’s old retriever. When I let him in, he immediately heaved himself up on my bed, turning around a few times before curling up. I wrinkled my nose. “You don’t smell very good,” I said to him. He ignored me and gave a contented little dog sigh. I knew he was lonely without my father, and since I was lonely too, I decided we could keep each other company. I missed my own little terrier, Bella. She’d been gone over a year, but I still sometimes thought I could hear her trotting down the hall.

  Another noise came from outside my window, a faint noise I couldn’t identify. I went to the window, but couldn’t see anything in the moon’s glow except the distant lights from the camp in the park.

  As I was about to go back to bed, a movement below caught my eye. Someone was running away from the house, heading to the woods on the east side. I couldn’t see clearly enough to tell anything about the person, beyond that it looked like a man, and a young man at that, moving quickly. There shouldn’t have been a young man here. We no longer had any men on the staff except old Mr. Applewhite and Mr. Norris, who was only here when my father was home.

  I pulled my wrap around me more tightly. Had Miss Tanner checked all the doors and windows? It had been the butler’s job, but it hadn’t occurred to me to wonder who had taken over the task. There were so many doors and windows, and so many unused rooms. The man was gone now, but what if he came back? What if it was someone who had tried to break in to steal something, someone who knew how little staff we had now? What if he was the source of Lettie’s strange noises? I tried to think what to do, knowing I’d feel ridiculous waking Miss Tanner if it turned out to be nothing. I decided I could check myself.

  Jove lumbered off the bed and came over to me, wagging his tail. “What do you think, boy?” I said to him. The dog nudged my hand so I would pet him. That little motion and the dog’s presence made me feel better. “Come along, Jove. We’re going to investigate.”

  As I went out into the hall, the dog walked next to me, wagging his tail. I figured that even as old as he was, if there was something strange about the house, he’d know and react. Or at least I hoped he would.

  The stillness of the house wrapped around me and made me creep down the stairs as if I had to be quiet. It struck me that there was something else odd about the house. The scent of lavender that normally filled the place was gone. My mother grew a border of lavender to make into potpourri, and it was a tradition for us to spend a day picking it and hanging it to dry. The scent had disappeared, and the house just smelled of stale air.

  Downstairs, there was no sound at all, except Jove’s wheezy breathing. I told myself everything was fine. I stood for a moment listening, and when I heard nothing, I decided to check the terrace door first.

  The door was secure and there was no movement outside, not even a breeze stirring the leaves. “Nothing to worry about here, Jove,” I said, knowing I was talking to the dog for my sake, not his. “Let’s go check the library.” Then the moon came out from behind a cloud and I caught sight of a glint from something lying on the terrace.

  I had to know what it was, so I opened the door and walked outside. Jove came with me. He reached it first, sniffing it. Before he could drool all over it, I picked it up. It was a battered wristlet with a broken leather band. My first thought was that it must be Crispin’s. The other men on the estate all used pocket watches.

  Crispin had been one of the first men I knew to take up the new military wristlet, a band for the wrist that held his pocket watch. He said he’d quickly learned it was too hard to get out a pocket watch while in a trench under fire. But he would have been wearing it when he disappeared.

  An owl hooted. I looked out into the dark and decided I’d rather examine the wristlet inside. I shoved it in my pocket and went back into the drawing room, running right into a solid figure. I let out a shriek and stumbled backward.

  CHAPTER

  FOUR

  “LADY THOMASINA!” It was Miss Tanner’s voice. I would have expected the housekeeper to be in bed hours ago, but she was still wearing one of her standard black dresses.

  “I-I didn’t realize it was you,” I stuttered, my heart pounding.

  “Is anything wrong?” Miss Tanner asked. “It’s very late.”

  I had never realized how narrow Miss Tanner’s eyes were behind her wire spectacles, narrow and dark and a little frightening. “I saw a man running away from the house,” I said, taking a step back, “and I wanted to make sure all the doors and windows were locked.” For some reason, I didn’t want to tell her about the wristlet.

  The housekeeper stood very still for a moment and then asked, “When? Where did you see him?”

  “I saw him from my window. He was running across the east lawn and into the woods, just a few moments ago.”

  “Are you sure it wasn’t just a trick of the moonlight?”

  “No, I’m sure I saw someone.” Miss Tanner didn’t look like she believed me, so I added, “He was wearing some sort of cap,” as if that detail would make him more real.

  The housekeeper clasped her hands. “You shouldn’t worry. I check all the doors and windows each evening. It may have been someone hoping to find a way into the kitchen to steal food. Some of the soldiers who have been invalided out of the army can’t seem to settle back into normal life at regular jobs, and I’ve heard many just roam the countryside. I’ll make sure the constable knows so he can warn the neighbors. Men like that won’t stop at trying the doors of just one house.”

  “That’s terrible,” I said. “I mean, it’s terrible that former soldiers are going hungry. I thought there were organizations trying to help them.”

  “There are, but there aren’t enough for all the ones in need. Now, if there’s nothing else, would you please excuse me?”

  “Of course.” I felt a yawn stealing over me. The housekeeper disappeared into the gloom and I made my way upstairs, Jove next to me. I put my hand on his head. “He won’t come back, will he, boy? And I’m sorry I said you were smelly earlier. You can stay with me every night.”

  Back in my room, I took the watch out of my pocket and held it under the light. The glass on the front of the case was so scratched, I didn’t know how anyone could easily tell time with it. The band had a peculiar odor. I brought it closer to my nose. It smelled of cucumbers for some reason, and reminded me of the lovely soup Mrs. Brickles made on hot days.

  Something tugged at my memory, but I couldn’t think of exactly what it was. I tried to read the name of the manufacturer. It was just barely visible: Helma Wasserdicht. I knew what “wasserdicht” meant—it was German for “waterproof.” It wasn’t Crispin’s. The pocket watch he’d put in his wristlet had said Harrods on it. I took the watch off the band and turned it over, wondering if it had an inscription on it. There was nothing there, so I put it back in place.

  I couldn’t help but think about what the man selling newspapers at the train station had yelled about a German spy in Lincoln. But Lincoln was miles away, and a German wristlet meant nothing. My father had a German pocket watch. Germany was renowned for its watches. I didn’t want to be someone who overreacted. Maybe the hungry soldier had taken it off a dead German, though the thought of that brought bile to my
throat.

  I hadn’t known soldiers did that until I overheard Crispin telling my father that he’d had to reprimand one of his men for taking a cigarette case off a body they’d stumbled across. My father’s quiet response had been that Crispin should overlook it as much as possible. “Not every rule has to be enforced in the middle of combat,” he’d said. The soldiers’ world was so far from mine, I couldn’t even begin to put myself in their place.

  I went back to the window. It had begun to rain, a light rain, the kind that Mr. Applewhite called a mizzle. It was so dark that I couldn’t see anything. I closed the curtain, something I never normally did. It made the room feel safer. I lay down, listening to Jove’s snuffly breathing. It was a little strange that the housekeeper had been walking through the house so late at night. Perhaps the woman just didn’t need much sleep. I could imagine Miss Tanner deciding to sleep only a certain number of hours and to do it efficiently as well. No insomnia for her.

  The next thing I knew, a knock on the door woke me. A maid carrying a tea tray entered. I was so groggy that it took me a moment to realize it was morning. I didn’t recognize the maid, so I knew it must be the new girl, Hannah. Jove slipped out the door like he’d been waiting for it to open.

  “Good morning, Lady Thomasina.” Hannah set the tray down on the table by my bed. I was surprised to see it. My mother had decided that before-breakfast tea trays were unnecessary for the duration of the war, since it was just more work for the servants.

  As if the girl could read my mind, she said, “Mrs. Brickles thought you’d like a tea tray this morning as a special treat since you had such a long traveling day yesterday.” The girl looked younger than me at first glance, with her small stature, the wisps of blond curls escaping from her cap, and her heart-shaped face. When I studied her more closely, however, I realized she might have been older, perhaps eighteen or nineteen.

 

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