by Val Wood
‘Do you not have a housekeeper or cook?’
‘No, only a daily maid. Norah says she can manage without either and we both have a light appetite. Anyway,’ he changed the subject, ‘how are you getting out to Holderness? I can’t offer you transport; I’ve got a brougham in the mews, but no horse or anyone to drive it if I had.’
‘And I have a horse at home who might well have forgotten me,’ Jamie replied. ‘I’ll have to hire a carriage to take me and ask Felix to allow me a lift back again.’
‘Surely he won’t object?’ said the doctor. ‘Is there bad feeling between you?’
‘I don’t know,’ Jamie said bluntly. ‘He seems to bear a grudge against me, but for what reason I can’t fathom. He’s the eldest; he holds all the cards.’
As the carriage approached Lucan Grange later that afternoon he asked the driver to drop him at the gates and walked up the long winding drive. The shrubberies on either side were overgrown and in need of a trim, and he wondered why Felix hadn’t got the gardeners on to them if he was selling up. Surely it would look better to a potential buyer if the entrance was neat and tidy. Or maybe he thinks it doesn’t matter, that a farmer isn’t interested in the house and garden; which he might not be but his wife would be if he had one.
Mrs Greenwood opened the front door to him and gave him her usual wide-smile greeting. ‘I’m so pleased you were able to come, Master Jamie. Or are you Dr Lucan now?’
‘I am,’ he said. ‘And I’m so sorry that Father isn’t here to congratulate me; I wanted to thank him for giving me the opportunity to—’ He was choked and couldn’t finish what he wanted to say. Now that he was home again, or at least what had once been home, all his memories came flooding back.
Mrs Greenwood patted his shoulder, just as she used to when he was a small boy. ‘I know,’ she said softly. ‘But he was very proud of you, he often told me so. “My son who is to be a doctor” he said to people who didn’t know you.’
Jamie nodded, grateful to her, and blew his nose. ‘Are my sisters here, Mrs Greenwood?’
‘They are, Dr Lucan,’ she said, ‘and waiting to see you.’
He gave her a wan smile and said, ‘I’m still Jamie, Mrs Greenwood.’
His sisters burst into tears when they saw him. ‘We’re so glad that you’re here, Jamie,’ Mary sniffled. ‘Felix hardly speaks to us and we’re both dreading the funeral. We’ve never been to one before; and Felix made us go up and see Father in his coffin.’
‘It wasn’t him,’ Frances said gloomily. ‘It wasn’t like him at all.’
‘Try to remember Father as he was,’ Jamie said kindly, thinking that although his sisters were now almost out of childhood, they were still young and vulnerable, adding ‘and not as you’ve seen him now.’
Frances looked up at him. ‘That’s worse in a way. I’ll be glad when we can leave and never come back.’
‘You won’t be coming back, will you, if Felix sells? Is Aunt Jane willing to have you still?’
‘Oh, yes.’ Mary’s face lit up. ‘We love it there, when we’re not at school. She’s so kind and jolly. Just like I imagine Mama would have been. She’s here. She brought us.’
Jamie smiled. That was a relief at least, that his two sisters would be safe and happy. ‘I’ll come and see you,’ he promised. ‘Just as soon as I’ve found a position and earned some money.’
Frances gazed at him, open-mouthed. ‘Have you been cut out of Father’s Will?’ she whispered. ‘Felix keeps saying there’s no money. But he doesn’t say why there isn’t.’
Jamie shrugged. He was almost past caring about his brother’s mismanagement of affairs, which he felt sure was the root cause of his selling up.
He didn’t see his brother until supper, and Felix gave him only a limp hand when he came to shake it. ‘You managed to get here then?’ he said coldly.
‘As I explained in my letter to you, I didn’t get yours because I was away. It all seemed very sudden; Father’s death, I mean. What was his illness to take him off so quickly?’
Felix shrugged. ‘He’d been out in the meadows and got soaked in heavy rain. Caught a chill; he had a weak chest and it went straight there. Blocked up his tubes or something.’
‘Have you had much interest in the sale of the estate?’
Felix gave him a sharp glance. ‘Sold,’ he said, and everyone paused.
‘Already?’ Jamie was furious. ‘Did you not want to discuss the matter first?’
‘No.’ Felix bent over his plate. ‘Father had agreed that we might sell. It’s my decision and mine only. I’m the eldest son and I can do as I wish.’
Father agreed because he had no other option if Felix was moving away. There was no one left to run it, but Felix could have let it, he didn’t have to sell. There would have been income for all of us if he had. He saw now why Felix was selling. The estate was his, and when it was sold the selling price would go to him. Jamie was sure that this hadn’t been his father’s intention, but it was too late now; he could perhaps fight it in the courts, but what was the point? It could take years and he hadn’t the heart for it. Let him have it, he thought. I’ll make my own living without any help from him.
He decided to leave the day after the funeral, which was well attended by local farmers, estate owners and those who worked for his father. His sisters would also be leaving that day with their aunt. But first was the reading of the Will, when the mourners had gone after partaking of a light lunch and shaking hands with Felix and Jamie.
A young lawyer, Binks, who said that he had only met the late Mr Lucan on one occasion, and was sorry to hear of his swift demise, was to read the Will. He also said that he was here in place of the senior partner who was presently away on a difficult case.
So when did he meet Father, Jamie wondered, and why? Were there changes made to the original Will, or perhaps an added codicil?
He was not prepared, however, for the meagre inheritance left to him and saw too the dismay on his aunt’s face when she heard of the paltry amount left to her nieces; not enough for a decent dowry, Jamie considered, and it might be that Aunt Jane would feel obliged to fund them herself. Surely there had been a mention of a nest egg for his sisters to keep them until they married? Nor was anything left to the servants, most of whom, like Mrs Greenwood and Cook, had been with the household for many years.
‘I don’t understand.’ He spoke up at the conclusion of the reading. ‘My father always said he would make sure my sisters would be well cared for. And I gathered that there would be small legacies for Mrs Greenwood and Mrs Hopkins. They have served the family faithfully since my mother’s day. Has the estate been losing money?’
Binks looked embarrassed, but Felix, who was idly leaning against a wall fiddling with his fingernails and not sitting down like the rest of them, said lazily, ‘How is it you haven’t thought fit to enquire before? Too busy enjoying yourself down in London!’ He straightened up and gazed at Jamie squarely. ‘There isn’t any money. Most of it is spent; we have only assets, and those, as you have heard, are part of the estate and are mine.’
Jamie flung out of the room; he was sick at heart, not for himself, as he knew he would eventually earn a living, but for his sisters and the servants.
Mrs Greenwood told him that she was open to offers as a housekeeper, but didn’t envisage getting many because of her age, though she was not so old, as Jamie pointed out to her. The cook, Bob’s mother, said she would stay on if the new owners wanted her to, otherwise she would ask the parish for a cottage or a room at the almshouse. Bob was obviously very worried about his prospects, but Jamie urged him not to be despondent.
‘As soon as I find a position, Bob,’ he said, ‘I’ll do my best to send for you.’
He’d been disappointed too when he’d visited Bonny in the stables; the horse had snickered at him when he went to stroke her, but it was to Bob that she’d turned, nuzzling in his hair.
‘She’s yours, isn’t she, Bob?’ he’d said. ‘You’ve b
een in charge of her all this time.’
‘Aye, I reckon.’ Bob ran his hand over Bonny’s sleek neck. ‘Master wanted to sell her,’ he muttered. ‘But I told him that he couldn’t. That she wasn’t his to sell.’
‘What? Father wanted to sell her? But he gave her to me!’
‘Not ’owd master,’ Bob said. ‘Master Felix. That’s why he wanted rid o’ me, I reckon. Cos I answered him back.’
Once more, Jamie felt fury eating him up, and he assured Bob that he would find him work where he could take Bonny too. ‘Would you work in a town if I find a suitable position?’ he asked.
‘Never lived in a town,’ Bob said. ‘I reckon I’d find it a bit strange; but if you asked me, Master Jamie, I’d work fer just me bed and board till you get established. I don’t know what else I can do. I’ve been here that long that I doubt anybody local would want me.’
There were several ideas running around in Jamie’s head as, with Felix’s reluctant permission, Bob drove him back to Hull in his father’s old carriage. Frances and Mary had given him a tearful farewell as they’d climbed into their aunt’s vehicle and made him solemnly promise again that he would visit them.
‘Your brother could’ve given you this owd carriage,’ Bob said as they drove off. ‘He’ll not need it now he’s got that grand new ’un.’
‘He’s got a new carriage? When did he buy that?’
‘Oh, I reckon just after Master took ill. He don’t know that I know about it,’ he said, ‘so don’t go telling him, Master Jamie. I happened to hear a noise ’middle o’ one night. I thought it were vandals and got up. I couldn’t see owt, it were that dark, so I got dressed and went out. Then I saw your brother wi’ a lantern heading for ’bottom barn, so I followed him. He opened up ’barn door an’ I saw carriage an’ pair draw in. By, it must have cost a packet. And there was a coachie in livery and a post boy as well.’
Jamie was bewildered. Bob went on. ‘Next day I was out early wi’ Bonny an’ I saw these two fellers in working clothes riding two fine hosses, heading for ’road. I stopped and said did they know they were on private land and they looked clever, like, an’ said they did. I reckoned on as if I didn’t know much, but I knew them hosses were good ’uns and didn’t belong to them.’
‘They’re being kept at livery until such time …’ Jamie couldn’t believe that Felix could sink so low.
‘I reckon Master Felix bought that package to impress his young lady.’ Bob chewed on his lip. ‘An’ I reckon it will.’
They drove past the Woodman Inn on the way; smoke curled out of the chimneys and there were signs of activity in the stable yard: planks of wood, a joiner’s bench and a stack of bricks as if renovations might be starting.
‘I hear there’s a new landlord,’ Bob commented. ‘Some relation of them as had it afore. Not ’last one,’ he added, ‘but them as had it a while back.’
Jamie grunted without saying anything, but he turned his head when they’d driven past and saw white washing blowing on a line. A family then, he thought. I wonder whose.
‘These are fine places, Master Jamie,’ Bob said as they drew up outside the doctor’s residence, and Jamie hadn’t the heart to say to his old friend that he was no longer Master Jamie but Dr Lucan.
‘Come in,’ he said. ‘I’d like to introduce you to Dr Birchfield.’
They went down the area steps and Jamie knocked on the door, which was opened by the maid. She seemed surprised to see Jamie at the servants’ entrance but invited Bob to sit down and have some tea and cake whilst Jamie went upstairs to tell Dr Birchfield he had returned.
‘I, erm, I took the liberty of bringing our groom back,’ Jamie told the doctor. ‘I just wondered if – that is, if ever you should be inclined to employ a driver for your carriage – if you would consider him. He’s looked after the family’s horses for years and knows how to handle them.’
‘Mm.’ The doctor looked keenly at him. ‘At present I don’t feel the need of anyone, although there have been times when I’ve been called out and somebody has had to run for a cab.’ He rose from his chair. ‘Where is he? Downstairs? I’ll come down and meet him.’
Bob stood up and touched his forelock. ‘Afternoon, doctor,’ he said, and Jamie noticed that he had cake crumbs round his mouth. ‘Very good to meet you again. I reckon I remember you from a long time back, when you attended Mrs Lucan.’
‘Really?’ Dr Birchfield looked taken aback, his forehead creased. ‘It’s not young Hopkins, the stable lad, is it?’
‘Aye, it is, sir. I’ve brushed down your owd hoss many a time at Lucan Grange.’
‘Well I never! I do remember you. And you’ve been at Lucan Grange all this time? You’ve never moved on?’
‘No, sir, it’s allus been home; until recently, but now there’s changes afoot.’
‘So I believe.’ The doctor nodded sagely. ‘Well, Hopkins, if there’s anything I can ever do for you, then just ask Dr Lucan here to get in touch with me and we’ll see how we can help. It’s very good to meet you again.’
Bob looked quizzically at Jamie at the mention of Dr Lucan as if it had never occurred to him that things were any different, and then, as if suddenly aware, he touched his forehead at the elder doctor, and then, with a half grin, at the younger one.
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
WHEN BELLA RETURNED from taking Henry’s young friend home and found a bearded, whiskered and injured soldier lying on the old sofa in the kitchen, she gave a shriek.
‘William! Can it be you? Oh, whatever’s happened to you?’
She knelt by his side and gazed into his weary face. ‘How did you get home? Who brought you? Oh, we must get a doctor! Ma.’ She turned urgently to her mother. ‘We must get a doctor straight away.’
‘Hold on, hold on.’ William stayed her with his hand. ‘I’m all right. Just very tired. A doctor brought me back. All ’way from Blackwall Docks and then from London to Hull. Couldn’t have had better treatment.’
‘So – is he here?’
‘No. He wouldn’t stop, he was anxious to get off. Pity. I wanted him to come in and meet everybody, but he wouldn’t. His father had died suddenly, so he had to shoot off. It’s his funeral tomorrow. He said he’ll come back, and I hope he will. I’d like you to meet him.’
His mother handed him a cup of soup. ‘Oh, thanks, Ma,’ he said gratefully. ‘A spot of home cooking’ll do me ’world o’ good.’ He sipped it, savouring the flavour. ‘Nice place you’ve got here, Bella. Ma says it’s all your doing.’
‘No, it isn’t.’ Bella got to her feet. ‘We’ve all worked very hard.’
Henry was standing behind her and jumped out of the way.
‘So who’s this?’ William asked, surveying Henry. ‘Do I know you?’
‘I’m Henry,’ the child said. ‘I’ve been singing for ’queen. I’m going to be a singer.’
‘You’re nivver that young babby?’ William said. ‘Can’t possibly be!’
Henry nodded solemnly. ‘I know who you are but I don’t remember you – at least, I don’t think I do.’
‘And you’re going to be a singer? Just like your sister Nell; do you remember her?’
Henry nodded again. ‘Oh yes,’ he said, but Sarah interrupted by saying to William, ‘What do you know about Nell? She left home after we came here and you weren’t here then.’
William grinned. ‘Miss Eleanor Nightingale! The singing sensation. I’ve seen her, Ma, heard her sing! But I didn’t meet her. I was in a lot of pain and had to leave ’theatre afore ’end of show.’
Sarah sat in front of him, her hands clasped, agog to hear more. ‘You’ve seen her! How did she look, William? How did she sound? Did she get applause?’
William looked at his mother’s eager expectant face, and lied. ‘She was brilliant, Ma, you should’ve seen her, and applause – well, several curtain calls. They couldn’t get enough of her.’
Sarah sat back and smiled. ‘Well, just fancy that. How proud I am of all my bairns. A sin
ger, a brave soldier, an hotelier, a clever little lad and you don’t know yet, William, that Joe is ’landlord of ’Woodman and his wife’s just given birth to a daughter.’
A truckle bed was brought down into the kitchen for William to sleep on, as he couldn’t get up the stairs.
‘There’s a room for you on ’top floor,’ his mother told him. ‘We had enough space and I knew you’d be back once you’d finished your soldiering.’
‘Thanks, Ma, but this is fine for ’time being.’ He didn’t have the heart to tell her he had other plans for his future, and they didn’t include running a hotel, which Bella was doing very well by the look of it.
Bella came and sat with him the next morning once she’d organized everyone to their tasks. He’d had a wash and had shaved off his beard and looked more like the William of old, except that his eyes were puffy and she guessed that he hadn’t slept well.
‘So tell me what happened to you,’ she said. ‘How did you get your injuries?’
‘No, you tell me what you’re doing running a fine place like this. I couldn’t believe it when I came through ’door.’
She smiled. ‘You wouldn’t have believed it if you’d seen it when we first came; it was derelict. We thought we’d got a pig in a sack, as Reuben would say.’
‘Reuben? Who’s he? A sweetheart?’ William raised his eyebrows.
‘No. A very good friend who’s advised us on all kinds of matters. You’ll meet him later when he comes in for lunch.’
‘Lunch? Not dinner then?’
‘Whatever you want to call it,’ Bella said. ‘We put luncheon on for guests.’
‘And this Reuben? Has he got designs on you, seeing as you’re so successful?’
She laughed. ‘He’s too old for me, or I might consider him. He’s lovely; so kind and thoughtful, he’s almost like a second father to me. He has even said that I must be careful who I marry as I could lose everything.’
