by Val Wood
‘Could you explain anything further?’ Freddie said. ‘I understood that you were acting for the Brewsters, and Susannah is to work for them. That is what she said, anyway.’
‘It’s a pity that the matter was discussed at all,’ Mr Cannon said grimly. ‘It is not straightforward, but it does concern Miss Page’s future and so I cannot speak of it. When you have finished your studies and join me in the firm, and if Miss Page wishes us to continue acting for her, then all may be revealed.’ He gave a thin smile. ‘But until then …’ He shrugged. The subject was closed.
‘There is, however, another matter which I must bring up for discussion, in view of your declaration of your partiality to Miss Page!’ His father eyed him squarely. ‘You cannot have forgotten your attachment to Maria? Surely your affections are not so – forgive me – insubstantial that they are so easily forgotten?’
Freddie was horrified and hurt that his father should say such a thing. But he was also angry that a relationship with Maria should be taken for granted. ‘I have no attachment to Maria, Father! I never did have. Affection, if indeed there is any, is on her side only. I view her only as a former childhood companion, nothing more!’
His father frowned. ‘I understand differently,’ he said. ‘Her mother tells me that Maria has been preparing her trousseau for years and often speaks of the plans that she has for when you eventually marry.’
‘No!’ Freddie got up from his chair in a fury. ‘I have never planned anything with her. Any such notions are in Maria’s head. Not in mine!’ He paced up and down the room. ‘Her mother and my mother devised this when we were children,’ he said in a low, restrained voice. ‘It must have been a kind of amusement or diversion for them to plot our future.’
His father shook his head. ‘It wasn’t an amusement for your mother,’ he said softly. ‘A diversion perhaps. She never enjoyed good health. I think she always knew that she wouldn’t live to see your future. Perhaps she felt that by planning, she could be part of it.’
Freddie stopped his pacing. He hadn’t thought of that and all the childhood pain of his mother’s death came rushing back. ‘I’m sorry, Father.’ He sat down again, much subdued. ‘But it isn’t what I want. I remember Mama saying to me that she’d like me to be a doctor or a surgeon when I grew up. Or a man of letters.’ He swallowed hard. ‘I recall feeling very uneasy. I didn’t understand what she meant. I had only just learned to read and write!’
‘You were very young,’ his father agreed benevolently. ‘And your mother was ambitious. But nevertheless,’ his tone of voice changed, and Freddie could hear his legal manner clicking in, ‘Maria, and her mother, are under the impression that you and she will be married. It would be a good match,’ he added. ‘She will have a considerable fortune, she is a pleasant enough young woman, and our connections with them are stable.’
‘But – I don’t love her.’ He hasn’t been listening, Freddie thought in dismay. ‘Didn’t you hear me, Father? I don’t want to marry Maria, no matter what her fortune.’
‘I think you will find it is expected of you,’ his father said calmly and rather coldly. ‘It is a matter of honour and decency. Only right and proper after all.’
‘But I’ve never suggested to her that we might marry! I have never asked her to be my wife. Never given her the slightest hint or promise …’ Freddie felt that he was falling into a pit, and the pit was getting deeper and deeper.
‘Neither have you given her any indication that you wouldn’t fall in with her ideas. By ignoring her when she has suggested that you will have a future together, you have led her to believe that you agreed to it. That was cruel, Freddie,’ his father said grimly. ‘Maria has expectations and you chose to ignore them. That conduct is not worthy of you.’
Freddie felt battered and bruised and asked to be excused, retiring to his room. His father, always a man of pedantry and exactness, liked matters to be resolved into neat and orderly compartments, and disliked intensely anything that was disorganized or questionable. This Freddie understood and made allowances for, but his father had never spoken to him in such a manner as this before.
He stood with his arms folded, gazing out of the window but not seeing the view of the garden, the neatly manicured lawn, the clipped hedges, and the weedless gravelled drive. What am I to do? What has happened that makes it impossible for me to continue a relationship with Susannah? Father says it is nothing that she has done. There is no slur on her reputation, and he forbids me to discuss the situation with her. But I must! Damn it, I love her, and I’m not a child that must always obey its elders.
There came a soft tap on the door, and he called sharply, ‘Yes. What is it?’ thinking that it was the housekeeper. His father opened the door and asked, ‘May I come in?’
Freddie nodded and his father closed the door behind him. ‘I have perhaps been rather unreasonable,’ he began. ‘I find it quite difficult to shake off my legal role and must apologize if I have also played the part of an overbearing parent.’
As Freddie looked at him in astonishment, he continued, ‘I will disclose a little, though I must ask you to swear that you will tell no-one, and certainly not Miss Page.’ He clasped his fingers together and fixed his gaze upon them. ‘Miss Page, though unaware of the fact, has acquired a benefactor. I do not know who it is, nor does Mr Watson. It is strictly above board, and from being a poor orphan she has the chance of becoming a wealthy one.’ He looked at Freddie. ‘And that is why I say you must not consider a romantic attachment to her. It might look like collusion on my part and yours.’
‘But – I have already spoken of my love for her—’ Freddie broke off as his father shook his head.
‘It would not do,’ he told him. ‘You know that it would not be appropriate or proper conduct for a lawyer’s son to fall in love with one of his father’s clients.’ He turned to the door, and with his hand on the knob looked back at his son. ‘I’m sorry for you, Freddie,’ he said softly. ‘I really am. But good marriages are often made without initial love or passion. So marry Maria and keep your feelings for Miss Page strictly professional.’
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Before Freddie returned to university, he wrote to Susannah to say he would be coming to Hedon as he had something he wished to discuss with her. By the same post a letter from Mr Watson the solicitor came for the Brewsters advising them that a surveyor and an architect would be calling at the Fleet to measure and plan for improvements to the inn.
‘I don’t know if I can be bothered with all of this,’ Mrs Brewster said. ‘Can you speak to them, Susannah? Mr Brewster and me are too old for these modern ideas.’ She looked down at the letter. ‘It says that we are to inform and advise what is required to make this a profitable and well run business.’
‘I’d have thought that ’roof needs repairing before they do anything inside,’ Susannah said. ‘We had a leak the other day when it rained.’
‘Tell them that then, will you?’ Mrs Brewster asked.
‘And tell them that we need a proper place to store ’casks, somewhere a bit closer to ’house,’ Mr Brewster added. ‘Then we won’t have to tramp across ’yard to ’stables.’
‘Don’t you want to tell them that, Uncle Brewster?’ Susannah asked. ‘You know best what you want.’
‘No,’ he said, reaching for his tobacco and pipe. ‘You’re going to be a sort of manager, so you can tell ’em.’
Susannah pondered. She could think of several things that would improve the running of the inn, but how much money would the new owners want to spend? The roof for one thing would cost quite a lot, though of course I have no real idea. She wondered if Freddie would know and resolved to ask him when he came. She felt a little skip of joy. What did he want to discuss? He would be returning to university soon, but she hoped that he was going to say something about their future, his and hers. Though I dare not think too much on that, she thought. I wouldn’t like to build up my hopes only to be disappointed.
She appea
red always to be serene and calm, her feelings well under control. But in fact she was so afraid of being hurt or unwanted that at times she dared not show that she was capable of passion or emotion. The Brewsters, though, had made her happy. They had been kind and considerate and treated her as if she were family, and she in turn couldn’t do enough for them, so grateful was she that they had given her a home and security.
When the architect and surveyor came, they seemed to take it for granted that she would discuss the essentials with them and didn’t ask to meet Mr or Mrs Brewster, though Susannah called in Mr Brewster when they started asking her what kind and size of storage would be needed for the casks and barrels.
‘This was an ancient beerhouse, I would think,’ the architect said. ‘The casks would be delivered by barge along the Fleet stream, or maybe the ale was brewed here on the premises.’ He gazed round thoughtfully. ‘Once a taproom,’ he said, ‘and then extended into a saloon. Room for improvement, though. What if we extend the saloon again …’
‘Could we have a room added on for people who might like to eat?’ Susannah asked. She was thinking of the times when Freddie and his father had come and they had put a table in the corner for them. Mr Cannon, and others, she was sure, would prefer to eat out of sight of those drinking ale.
‘Indeed,’ the architect said agreeably. ‘And there could also be a quiet room. There are several ideas I’d like to suggest to you, Miss Page. Perhaps if I draw up some plans for your approval?’
‘Oh! But … you must ask the owners!’ Susannah exclaimed. ‘It’s not for me to say. Or perhaps you’d consult Mr and Mrs Brewster? I’m only the – the …’ She couldn’t think how to explain her position, but the architect didn’t seem too concerned over her status, merely said he would come back with drawings and discuss them with her and the Brewsters.
‘What am I exactly, Aunt Brewster?’ she asked the old lady later. ‘The architect kept asking what I required. Why doesn’t he ask the owners? And who are they, anyway? Don’t they want to see the place first, or have they been already?’
‘I know as little as you, m’dear,’ Aunt Brewster said. ‘I’ve racked my brains to think who they could be or when they’ve been to visit, but I can’t think that we’ve had any strangers here. As for their name, Mr Watson only refers to a Mr Smith, the agent.’ She nodded benignly at Susannah. ‘And he said that you were to be paid a salary starting in November, so, as Mr Brewster said, you’re a sort of manager.’
‘There was a stranger come a while back,’ Mr Brewster said thoughtfully. ‘A right hot day it was and he had a tankard of ale and a meat pie; don’t you recall, Mrs Brewster? I remember him asking if trade were good.’
Mrs Brewster paused in the act of raking the fire. She held the fire iron against the bar of the grate. ‘Aye! Come to think on it, there was somebody,’ she agreed. ‘He asked who’d cooked ’pie and I said as it was my niece.’ She glanced towards Susannah. ‘You were outside hanging ’washing.’
Susannah shook her head. ‘I don’t remember anyone,’ she said.
‘He were a bit scruffy,’ Mrs Brewster said. ‘I don’t mean like a tramp or owt, but his hair was long and he wore a beard that needed trimming. Talked proper though,’ she added, continuing what she was doing and adding coal to the fire. ‘But he didn’t look as if he was made o’ money.’
‘It’s rather a mystery,’ Susannah said to Freddie when he called a few days later. ‘We don’t know who the new owners are or anything about them. I’m a bit worried about it because the architect said he was going to come back with plans and suggestions, and the Brewsters said they want me to attend to it.’
Freddie hesitated. ‘Father says I haven’t to discuss it, Susannah,’ he said quietly, ‘because of his professional involvement. But he did say that everything was above board, so I don’t think you need worry. But what I will say,’ he spoke determinedly, ‘is that it’s a wonderful opportunity and you should tell them what you think. Give them your views.’
‘But Freddie,’ she said, ‘I’ve not had ’experience. How do I know what will work or if we’re wasting money? Somebody else’s money!’
‘You’re very sensible, Susannah, and you have flair,’ he said. ‘I think the owners would put a stop to it if they thought something wasn’t feasible. But I’ve said too much already. I’m not supposed to talk about it.’
He seemed very gloomy today, she thought. She smiled up at him, hoping to cheer him. ‘You’re getting taller, Freddie,’ she said. ‘Each time I see you I think you’ve grown!’
‘They say that men don’t stop growing until they’re in their late twenties,’ he said ruefully. ‘I’ve time to stretch several inches yet.’
She put her hand into his. They had walked alongside the stream. ‘So what was it you wanted to discuss, if you can’t talk about the Fleet?’
There was a fallen log where they sat sometimes. It wasn’t far from the inn: within calling distance if Susannah was needed by the Brewsters. He led her towards it and they sat down.
‘Three things,’ he said in a low voice. ‘And they all concern you, and me,’ he added in a mutter.
She gazed at him, hopefully, brightly, yet she felt there was something wrong. He didn’t seem at all happy. In fact he looked downright miserable. ‘Has something happened?’ she asked softly. ‘You’re upset.’
‘I am upset,’ he told her. ‘I had such plans. For us both. But …’ He took his hand away from hers and put it over his eyes.
‘Freddie?’ she whispered. ‘Tell me. I’ll try to understand. It can’t be so very bad – can it?’ Her lips parted as she saw the look of distress on his face. ‘Is it something that I’ve done?’
‘No. No!’ He put his arm round her and lifting her hand he kissed her fingers. ‘It’s circumstances, and I’ve been a fool. A young fool who didn’t think and didn’t know.’ He swallowed hard. ‘What I’m going to say, Susannah, will affect our future; but the first thing I want to say is that I love you. Will always love you.’
‘But … ?’ she questioned, frightened by his pallor and his obvious wretchedness. ‘What of our future?’
‘There will be none,’ he groaned. ‘Not together. I have to marry Maria. My father advises me that it would be dishonourable and unkind not to.’ He saw the horrified expression on her face. ‘I have never given her cause to think I will marry her, Susannah. I swear to God that I haven’t! It was a scheme, a joke possibly, thought up by our mothers when we were children; but Maria was under the misapprehension that it was true and won’t give up on the idea. I’ve been to see her and her mother,’ he added, ‘and they are so full of plans and arrangements that they wouldn’t listen to me when I expressed my doubts.’ He squeezed her hand so tightly that she gave a little cry of pain. ‘What am I to do? I can’t bear to think I shall be tied to her for life when I love you.’
‘What would it mean if you were to defy them?’ she whispered.
‘My father says it would mean that Maria and her mother would be humiliated; they’d become a laughing stock. And they would lose face socially if I don’t go through with the marriage as seemingly all their friends and acquaintances have been made aware and accept that we are affianced.’
‘But I thought that your mother and Maria’s mother had been such good friends! Surely she wouldn’t do anything to spoil the memory of that relationship?’
Freddie groaned. ‘You don’t know Aunt Bertha! If she’s set her mind on something there’s no budging her! But it’s my father I’m thinking of. He’s built up a good practice and, what’s more, he’s invested a lot of money in my education: going to university alone has cost him dear. I feel,’ he said miserably, ‘I feel that I would be letting him down; that I’m being unworthy.’
‘So it is a question of honour. Tell me,’ she said, ‘for I don’t know about these things. Is it normal to marry someone you don’t love just because it’s expected?’
‘In some circles, yes, I believe so.’ Freddie blew his no
se. ‘My father has risen socially,’ he explained. ‘He was first of all a clerk, though he doesn’t tell people that. But Bertha married a rich man and I do believe it might have been difficult for my parents to keep pace with them. But Father is very clever and intelligent and has been successful in his field, and I understand that Aunt Bertha’s husband put quite a lot of business his way in the early days; and that’s why – that’s why it’s so difficult for me when Father has worked so hard to achieve all that he has.’
‘Yes,’ Susannah murmured. ‘I understand. At least I think I do.’ I have always dreamed, she pondered, about how wonderful it must be to belong to a close-knit family. To have the comfort of loving relatives and caring friends around me. But perhaps it isn’t, after all. Perhaps it’s better to be independent and not have to consider others’ views or feelings that are at odds with one’s own.
‘Do you, Susannah?’ Freddie asked anxiously. ‘Do you understand?’
Slowly she nodded. ‘But I’m very sad,’ she said wistfully. ‘I have such tender feelings for you, Freddie, and – and although I didn’t allow myself to hope that one day we might share a future together, I confess …’ Her voice dropped low and he bent his head to hear her. ‘I must confess that it was my dearest wish that it might be so.’
‘What else can I do? Tell me if you think there is a way out of this tangle.’ He gazed at her imploringly. ‘I can only hope that whilst I’m away studying Maria will find someone else to care for and will then release me.’
‘Yes,’ Susannah whispered. ‘We must pin our hopes on that.’ But she won’t, she thought practically. If Maria has held on to this obsessive pipe-dream since she was a child, she isn’t ever going to transfer that desire to someone else. I must plan my life without Freddie, she decided. Much as I care for him, I know that he can’t, won’t ever, be mine. I shall fill my life with work. She brooded that the new owners of the Fleet Inn had come along at the most opportune time. If I can make a success of this perhaps I won’t have time to miss him so much.
