by Rosie Clarke
Jessie wondered why he hadn’t come to the nursery to tell her in person, and yet in her heart she understood. Harry was being careful. If he came to her there late at night as he had once or twice in the past, he might not be able to resist kissing her again, and someone might walk in and see them.
The knowledge that she was going to be alone with him and the children had given her sweet dreams. Yet they were also disturbing. Despite her determination that they could never be more to each other than they were, Jessie knew the temptation was there for both of them.
She wore a simple green striped dress. The skirt ended just above her ankles, which was slightly old-fashioned these days but suitable for her position as nursemaid. It had short, tight sleeves and a little collar of white lace, but she wore sensible flat shoes because she thought they might be walking over fields. She only owned one coat, which was a dark blue and had served her well for several years, but she added a thick pink scarf and wool hat and decided she didn’t look too bad.
Jack made no objection when she suggested he might like to wear his riding breeches and boots.
‘Is Father taking me to the farm?’ he asked.
‘He is taking us all somewhere but it is a surprise. Cook is making us a picnic.’
‘I’ve never had a picnic. What is that?’
Jessie explained and the child’s face lit up. He was excited, unable to wait for his father to appear. It was just as well that he hadn’t been told exactly where they were going, Jessie thought.
Catherine was clutching her elephant. She had refused to be parted with it and Jessie let her do as she pleased. She had shown little interest in the other toys her father had bought for her, though Jessie had shown her how to build the bricks into different shapes. Her main interest so far was in knocking them down again, but she was becoming much better at asking for her chamber pot and Jessie was encouraged. Catherine seemed bright, healthy and happy. What more could they ask?
Jessie’s heart raced when Harry came to collect them. He was also wearing riding breeches with a casual jacket that had leather patches at the elbows. He looked relaxed and very attractive, and when his eyes met hers Jessie’s heart did a rapid somersault.
‘Where are we going, Father?’ Jack asked at once. ‘Why are you dressed for riding? Are we going to the farm?’
‘Questions! Always questions,’ Harry said but his eyes held a secret laughter. ‘You will just have to wait and see, young man.’
Jessie hid her smile. Harry looked younger, his manner so changed that he might almost have been a different man from the one she had first met.
‘You are happy today,’ she said softly as he stood aside for her to pass with Catherine.
‘I’ve stolen a holiday with my family,’ he said. ‘Why shouldn’t I be happy?’
‘No reason.’ Jessie was warmed by his look and his words. He thought of her as his family. Perhaps he really did love her as much as he said. Perhaps they would be together one day. She allowed herself to dream for a few minutes. ‘Is it far?’
‘Not too far,’ he replied. ‘You are as bad as Jack. Wait and see!’
Jessie laughed. His mood was infectious. It was going to be a good day.
*
The reality was every bit as good as she imagined. The farm that had bred Jack’s pony was twenty miles the other side of Torquay, but that was a pleasant drive in the Daimler. Jack sat in the front with his father, Jessie in the back with Catherine. The little girl was excited and looked out of the car window, pointing at animals she saw as they passed. Cows, sheep and horses, also cats and dogs, all caught her attention and she chattered away until she suddenly fell asleep.
Jack was oddly silent and Jessie knew he was very excited. He suspected they might be going to buy his pony but did not dare to hope in case it wasn’t true. It was only when his father drove into a stable yard and stopped that his silence was finally broken.
‘Are we?’ he asked in a scared, breathy voice. ‘Are we going to buy my pony?’
‘Only if you like him, Jack,’ Harry replied with a smile. ‘We’ve come to see if he suits you and you must say if you don’t like him.’
‘What’s his name?’
‘That’s for you to decide.’
Jack could hardly wait to see the pony his father had picked for him. He looked as if he would burst with excitement. It was a sturdy little thing, chestnut in colour with a silky cream mane.
‘He’s beautiful,’ Jack breathed, his eyes glowing. ‘Can I ride him, Father? Can I ride him now?’
‘Are you sure you’re ready? You’re not scared of him?’
‘He’s only little,’ Jack declared boldly. ‘I’ve ridden on your horse. He’s much bigger than Wellington.’
‘Wellington?’ Harry looked at him, much amused. ‘Why do you call him that?’
‘Because he has a red coat like my soldiers – and I like the Duke of Wellington best, because he won all the battles.’
‘Well, it’s an odd name for a pony, but it’s your choice.’
Jessie was holding Catherine up so that she could stroke the pony’s nose. She gurgled with laughter but made no protest when her brother mounted the pony, nor did she clamour to be given a ride. It was as if she understood and accepted that the pony belonged to Jack.
Harry led his son around the yard for a while. Wellington seemed docile and obedient, very suitable for a young boy’s first mount. After some twenty minutes or so, they went into the paddock and Harry mounted a horse to ride round with his son.
‘Would the little girl like a ride around the yard, miss?’
Jessie turned as the groom spoke to her. He had brought a tiny Shetland pony out and was offering to give Catherine a turn.
‘That’s kind of you. We’ll see what she thinks.’ She lifted Catherine so that she could pat the pony as she had Wellington, but it rolled its eyes and shrilled at her, its lip curling back over its teeth.
Catherine screamed and clung to Jessie, burying her face in her shoulder and sobbing.
‘Thank you but I think we had better not,’ Jessie said. ‘She usually loves animals but not this time.’
She walked away, patting Catherine’s back and soothing her but the sobbing went on. It was several minutes before she quietened. Jessie was anxious. The pony had startled her but Catherine never cried, not once in the weeks she had known her had she shed a tear, even when she fell and scraped her knee on a stone in the grass.
It was cold standing about waiting so Jessie got back into the car, nursing the child and talking to her softly. Catherine hugged her elephant. Her face was quite red but she seemed easier now, and after a while she put her thumb in her mouth and went to sleep.
It was nearly half an hour later when Harry brought Jack back to the car. He was looking pleased with himself, and Jack seemed to be in a happy daze.
‘Well, that’s settled,’ Harry said. ‘Wellington will be arriving at his new home the day after tomorrow.’ He glanced at the sleeping Catherine. ‘Was she crying earlier?’
‘Yes. The groom offered her a ride on a Shetland pony but it startled her and she was frightened. I’ve never known her to get so upset.’
‘Odd,’ Harry said. ‘She wasn’t frightened of Harry’s pony.’
‘Nor the elephant,’ Jessie said. ‘It isn’t like her. I think the pony was nervous and that frightened her.’
‘Those Shetlands can be vicious,’ Harry said. ‘It’s a good thing she didn’t get on its back. Right then, shall we have our picnic now? It isn’t a bad day so I thought we would go to the seafront, make a day of it. We can eat in the car, then go for a brisk walk on the front. We might even go on the beach for a little while.’
‘The beach! Can we really?’
Jack was clearly delighted. He had been to the beach only rarely with his father and couldn’t believe he was to have two treats on the same day.
‘We might even buy an ice cream.’ Harry glanced anxiously at his daughter. ‘Do you think she
is all right?’
‘She’s just sleeping. She’ll wake up soon and want her lunch.’
*
Catherine was hungry when she woke and delighted to find herself being taken somewhere new. It was her very first time on a beach and she kept pointing at the sea and laughing in her excitement. Neither of the children seemed to care that it was winter or that the wind was quite cool as it blew in from the sea.
Jessie told Catherine where she was and that the water was the sea and she clamoured to be allowed nearer.
‘Catherine want sea…want sea…’
‘I don’t think the children should be allowed to paddle,’ she told their father. ‘It is far too cold for them.’
‘It won’t hurt if they just dip their toes in,’ Harry said overruling her. ‘John and I used to swim at Christmas when we could. We shan’t let them get their clothes wet. It’s better for them to be hardy, they’ll need to be when they grow up.’
Jessie was doubtful but both Jack and Catherine wanted to go nearer the sea. So she took Catherine by the hand and led her down to the water’s edge and Jack ran ahead of them, plopping down in the sand to strip off his boots and socks and roll up the bottoms of his breeches.
Jessie dangled Catherine above the water, letting her dip her feet a few times, which made her gurgle with delight, but she wouldn’t let her run free in case she fell and got herself wet all over. However, Jack paddled contentedly with his father, who had also taken off his boots and seemed to be enjoying the experience as much as his son. Even the sun had come out as if to bless them, taking the bite from the wind; it was so mild now that it could almost have been spring.
Afterwards, Jessie dried the children’s feet well on a blanket from the car and they sat in the sand and built castles, Harry as enthusiastic as the two young ones.
Jessie watched, feeling happy to see them all so relaxed and enjoying themselves. It was just a normal family scene, except it hadn’t been normal for any of them until recently. Her eyes were misty and her throat felt tight with emotion. She thought that she would never forget this wonderful day.
*
It was past the children’s bedtime when they returned to the house, but they had eaten scones with jam and cream at a little restaurant near the beach and were not hungry. Jessie had only to wash them and tuck them up in bed and they fell asleep immediately.
She went to visit Lady Kendle next, just to make sure she was comfortable and had taken all her medicine, but there were voices coming from inside. However, her tentative knock received an invitation to enter and she did so, feeling slightly awkward as she saw Sir Joshua was with his wife. She seldom saw him since he never visited the nursery and they met only occasionally.
‘I am sorry to intrude,’ she said. ‘I came to see if you needed anything, ma’am?’
‘I think that perhaps I should have one of my pills. This shocking news has upset me.’
‘News?’ Jessie’s heart raced as she filled a glass with water and gave Lady Kendle her pill. She knew the children were safe in their beds but something unpleasant must have happened. ‘I haven’t heard anything, ma’am?’
‘You’ve been with the children, of course. The phone call came only half an hour or so ago. My son’s workshops are on fire. They told Sir Joshua that it was serious and my son has gone to investigate. I don’t know how bad it is, but I fear the worst.’
‘The place is full of wood and materials used for making furniture. I should imagine it went up like a torch – particularly if it was started deliberately, as the police seem to think,’ her husband said.
Sir Joshua looked grey and Jessie could see he was very shocked and distressed too, as anyone would be at such news. She herself was stunned and hardly knew what to say or think.
‘That’s terrible,’ she said, ‘terrible! Captain Kendle must be very upset.’
‘He was angry,’ Sir Joshua said. ‘Very angry. I cannot recall seeing him that way before. He left at once, though there is nothing much he can do, of course.’
‘He had to see it for himself,’ Lady Kendle said. ‘And he was very concerned that someone might have been hurt.’
‘Oh, I do hope not,’ Jessie cried and blushed as Lady Kendle looked at her. ‘That would be even more tragic.’
She struggled to keep a tight rein on her emotions. It would not do to let Harry’s parents guess how very distressed she was by this news, which must have been devastating to him. This would be a heavy blow to him for he had told her something of his plans for the future. The workshops were his own investment, his independence. Without it he was reliant on the estate, which had been kept going on his wife’s money since the war. She had sensed that he hated being dependent on Mary’s money for the estate, and had hoped to manage without it once the workshops were making more money.
Sir Joshua was shaking his head over the affair. ‘I warned him not to sink everything into that place. This will ruin him.’
‘Surely he is insured? Lady Kendle said with a frown.
‘For the building and perhaps some of the contents – but the business will be months before it’s up and running again. He may never be able to set it up. I believe he is heavily committed at the bank.’
Sir Joshua seemed to have forgotten Jessie was there.
‘Thank you, Jessie,’ Lady Kendle said, giving him a subtle reminder. ‘Will you come in later as usual?’
‘Yes, of course, ma’am.’
Jessie blushed as Sir Joshua frowned at her, as if suddenly remembering that she was in the room. It was a measure of his concern that he had been so outspoken in her presence. She hadn’t known that Harry owed money to the bank but she had been aware how important the business was to him. Closing the door behind her, she heard their voices begin again and was aware of their anxiety. It was a worrying time for the whole family.
She was anxious for more news but no one knew any more than the bare facts, though Cook and the others could talk of nothing else.
‘It will be them political agitators what done it,’ Carter said.
‘But why?’ Cook asked. ‘Surely they wouldn’t be so mean?’
‘Them sort are up to any tricks.’
‘I wonder what’s happening,’ Jessie said, unable to bear the tension. ‘Do you think the firemen can save the building?’
‘There’ll be spirits and paint on the premises,’ Carter said. ‘Various oils and paraffin, they use for cleaning and such stuff. It’s bound to be a tinderbox.’
‘It’s dreadful,’ Maggie chimed in. ‘Dreadful for the men who work there as well as the captain. Most of them were old soldiers, so my father told me. The captain gave them jobs when there was no work going. What will they do now?’
‘They’ll be like a lot more,’ Cook said. ‘On the streets looking for work while their families go short.’
Jessie was sorry for the men who had lost their jobs, but what really hurt was the way Harry must be feeling. Why did it have to happen? And today of all days, when they had been so happy. This tragedy had spoiled everything, souring the memory.
Jessie kept her thoughts to herself. She had to be careful not to let anyone guess that the relationship between her and Captain Kendle had gone beyond that of master and servant.
Lady Kendle told her that Harry was still out when she took up her hot drink. ‘I dare say he’ll stay in Torquay all night,’ she said. ‘It is a terrible shock for him, Jessie – for all of us, of course, but so much worse for Harry. He has been in such a black mood since the war and he was just coming out of it, beginning to be more like his old self – and now this. I really do not know how he will cope.’
‘You must try not to worry,’ Jessie said. ‘Captain Kendle will do what he has to and he won’t want you to be ill over it.’
‘That’s what my husband told me.’ She smiled and held Jessie’s hand for a moment. ‘It is a great comfort to me that you are here, my dear.’
‘Thank you, ma’am. I am glad to be of use.’
It was nearly midnight when Jessie heard something in the room next to hers. It was an odd moaning sound, rather like a whimper. She was out of bed instantly, thinking that it must be Jack having a nightmare. He’d only had one since she began taking care of him but perhaps all the excitement of the day had been too much for him.
As she went into the little sitting room that was part of the nursery wing, she saw someone slumped in the chair, head in hands, and knew at once that it was Harry. The sound she’d heard had come from him, not his son.
‘Was it very bad?’ she asked and knelt by his side as he lifted his head and looked at her, his face grey with shock. ‘Was anyone hurt?’
‘My foreman,’ Harry said. ‘He tried to save some of the finished orders and a burning beam fell on him. Poor devil! He’s badly burned. If he lives he may never work again.’
‘I’m so sorry,’ Jessie said, her heart wrenched with pity for the man who had been hurt and for this man she loved, who had lost so much. His cheeks were wet with tears, which she knew were for his foreman more than his own tragedy. ‘I wish I could do something to help.’
‘It’s too late for Bates,’ Harry said. ‘And it’s probably too late for me. I’m finished, Jessie. It’s all gone – building, stock, finished orders, worth ten thousand or more. It was a big order and the customer wanted it all delivered at once. Now there’s nothing left. The insurance may pay what I owe the bank if I’m lucky but I shan’t be able to start up again. I just don’t have the money. Another two days and the orders would have gone out. With that money I could have hung on, but now it’s impossible.’
