Every Mother's Son

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Every Mother's Son Page 10

by Val Wood


  ‘Not for a while, I think,’ she said.

  ‘And where’s Maria?’ Stephen asked determinedly. ‘I haven’t seen her in ages.’

  ‘Maria works now,’ Harriet said. ‘She has a position as a parlourmaid in Brough. She’s coming home tomorrow.’

  She saw the disappointment on Stephen’s face. Charles saw it too and gave a small frown. ‘I hope she’s enjoying her independence, Mrs Tuke?’ he said.

  ‘She’s not,’ Dolly butted in. ‘She’d rather be at home and I’d rather be there!’

  ‘Can’t you swap, then?’ Stephen asked.

  ‘No,’ Harriet said for her. ‘Dolly’s not leaving home just yet. She’s too giddy,’ she added affectionately. ‘I need her where I can keep an eye on her.’ She smiled as Dolly shrugged.

  Daniel came in as they were sipping their cocoa and expressed surprise and pleasure at seeing them all, his gaze resting on Beatrice as he said he hoped she was feeling better. ‘And George?’ he enquired as his mother had done. ‘Didn’t he want to come?’

  ‘He’s plotting our route,’ Charles laughed. ‘But as we haven’t said where we’re heading I rather think he’s choosing somewhere for himself. But the real reason why we’re here is that I wanted to tell you that my father has given his consent to my travelling!’

  ‘And did you tell him that I was going?’ Daniel asked; he was certain that Mr Hart would rather have one of Charles’s school friends accompany him.

  Charles beamed. ‘I told him that under a great deal of pressure and persuasion you had agreed to come along as bearer.’

  ‘No, he didn’t!’ Beatrice exploded. ‘Don’t be such a terrible snob, Charles.’ She stopped. ‘Even if you were joking,’ she added, wondering if she’d made a complete fool of herself.

  Daniel laughed. ‘It’s all right, Beatrice, I know Charles’s warped sense of humour.’

  ‘Even so,’ she muttered, embarrassed now. ‘Other people might think him serious.’

  ‘I didn’t mean to—’ Charles stopped. What had got into Beatrice? She knew him better than anybody. She surely knew he wouldn’t ever, nor let anyone else, make a snide remark about Daniel. He glanced at her flushed face and then at Daniel looking awkward and he suddenly understood.

  He recalled her asking if he thought she might be considered beautiful and he’d told her to ask Daniel – and she’d got cross. She’s more than fond of him as a friend, and he is more than fond of her. Golly, he thought. What’s Father going to make of that?

  Charles was wise enough to acknowledge that any infatuation between his sister and his friend could quite easily fizzle out as she met more people and potential admirers; as for himself, he couldn’t wait to be away from home and meet young ladies simply for the pleasure of their company, rather than have his parents size them up as suitable marriage partners. It surely should be possible, he thought, to have conversation with females without there being any implication or significance construed.

  Charles listened to the chatter going on around him, but darker thoughts were running through his mind for he had worries of another kind. They became stronger each time he came to visit Daniel and saw Fletcher, who had just now appeared through the kitchen door. I’d never noticed the likeness before, but my eyes were opened that day at the harvest when I saw Fletcher Tuke coming towards me and thought I saw a younger version of my father. A pure coincidence, I expect; but his height, his fair hair – although Father is very grey now – his eye colouring and most of all his bearing, his way of walking tall and proud, is the same.

  He could be related to someone way back, I suppose, maybe coming down the family line from one of my grandfather’s brothers or cousins. I don’t recall any being mentioned, but that’s what it will be, he decided, nothing more than that, for families often look alike. Nevertheless, he was a little anxious about Stephen’s taking an interest in Maria Tuke, for if there was a link between Fletcher and the Hart family then any liaison, no matter that it came to nothing, was better nipped in the bud.

  He shifted in his chair and glanced round the cosy kitchen and all of them clustered around the table. But then, my father and possibly my mother wouldn’t think any relationship between our families would be suitable, not Beatrice and Daniel, not Stephen and Maria. Quite out of the question, I should imagine. And could Daniel keep Beatrice in the manner to which she is accustomed? Could Maria become the wife of a country gentleman? How ridiculous you are, he chastised himself. None of this is going to happen. You’re thinking like a fool.

  The conversation had drifted along without him and he had simply nodded his head from time to time as if listening, until Beatrice said, ‘I think we ought to be leaving, it’s getting late.’ She stood up and put on her hat and scarf. ‘I hope we haven’t held you up, Mrs Tuke. Thank you so much for the hot drink; we’re well fortified for the journey home.’

  They all stood up. ‘It’s been very nice to see you all,’ Harriet said. ‘I hope you can come again before you return to Switzerland, Miss Beatrice.’

  ‘That would be lovely,’ Beatrice said. ‘But will you not be coming to us to discuss the arrangements for Daniel and Charles’s journey? Please do.’ She smiled. ‘I want to hear about it before I go. I don’t want to be left out. Charles, you’ll arrange it with Papa, won’t you?’

  Charles cleared his throat. ‘Yes, yes of course. Some time in January. Will that be all right?’

  Fletcher amiably agreed. ‘Perfect,’ he said. ‘Couldn’t be better. We’ll be able to think about it over Christmas, eh, Daniel?’ He put his hand on Daniel’s shoulder. ‘Mek plans?’

  What’s going on? Daniel thought. Why’s Da so hearty and Charles so uncomfortable? ‘Yes, good timing,’ he nodded. ‘We’ll fix a day afore you all go away.’ He glanced at Charles and grinned. ‘Spot on, old chap!’

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  The families celebrated Christmas in their different ways. Harriet cooked the Christmas goose, helped by Granny Rosie and Maria, who was pleased to be at home. Her mother told her to take it easy and put her feet up, but she insisted that she wanted to help.

  ‘I’m comfortable now with Mrs Topham,’ she said. ‘She’s used to me and I am to her; she’s very kind and I’m more of a companion than a maid, for I sometimes read to her, or serve her tea and cake, and her cook and ’other maid do most of ’other jobs, although I always offer.’

  Harriet was delighted to have Maria at home, even for a short time, but thought that she had been right to send her into service. Maria seemed less shy and reserved and was more mature than she had been.

  There were ten of them around the table, including Rosie and Tom, and once more Harriet gave silent thanks for her precious loving family. She gazed at Fletcher and, not wanting to cast a shadow over the day, didn’t mention his mother Ellen, alone in her cottage by Brough Haven, who had once again refused an invitation to spend Christmas Day with them.

  The Harts managed with a smaller staff than usual. Melissa believed that everyone should have a chance of going home at some point during the holiday if they wanted to. Cook prepared and cooked Christmas Eve dinner and Christmas Day luncheon; she said that she couldn’t trust anyone else to do it as well as she could. After luncheon she was taken by trap to visit her sister who lived in Brantingham and came back on the following day. Two young maids had Christmas Day off, returning late that evening, but Dora, Melissa’s personal maid, had no family in the district, so she, a kitchen maid and the housekeeper, who had known Melissa since she was young, stayed behind and kept Nanny Mary company.

  ‘Everyone in service should work for a family like ’Harts,’ Mary said over her second glass of sherry. She took a small sip. ‘I feel quite guilty sometimes that there are no small children for me to look after.’ She sighed. ‘But not so guilty that I should ever consider leaving. I think I earn my keep with supervising ’laundry and doing ’patching and stitching and ironing mistress’s gowns, although I admit I haven’t got as good a hand as Harriet Tuke. I�
��ve never seen such beautiful collars and ironed tucks and pleats as she used to turn out. And of course I listen to the young folk who come to ask me things that they wouldn’t ask their mama.’

  ‘Like what?’ Dora asked curiously.

  ‘Ah, well.’ Mary took another sip. ‘That’d be telling.’

  Charles considered her to be a sort of cosy grandmother, for he hadn’t known either of his own. Nanny Mary had a warm and welcoming room. There was always a fire with a rug in front of it, where as a small boy he used to stretch out without any censure, either drawing or reading or even just lying on his back daydreaming with his hands clasped behind his head. Her kettle was always simmering on the fire and she made the children drinks, and magically always had cake or biscuits ready and waiting in a tin.

  ‘Have you heard that I’m going travelling, Nanny?’ Charles asked her on Boxing Day morning. He took up too much room now to lie on the floor but she had a squashy armchair that he favoured.

  ‘Aye,’ she said, taking a cake tin out of a cupboard whilst waiting for the kettle to boil. ‘I reckon I did hear a rumour.’

  ‘It’s no rumour,’ he declared. ‘It’s official. I’m being allowed to go. I’ve decided not to go to university just yet and I’m going on a European tour, and do you know who else is coming?’

  ‘I can’t imagine,’ she said, pouring the boiling water on to the tea leaves, although in fact she had already heard through Beatrice. ‘Am I allowed to know?’

  ‘Oh, it’s no secret. Daniel Tuke and I are to be travelling companions. It’s not that he is tagging along with me or that I am joining him, but that we are travelling together.’

  He had, as he often did with Nanny, reverted to the younger self who had felt a compulsion to explain each situation, knowing that she would listen patiently to every word.

  ‘Very sensible,’ she said, offering him a slice of cake. ‘You’ll be able to tek care of each other, and Daniel is a level-headed young man as well as a merry one.’

  ‘He is, isn’t he?’ Charles agreed, licking his fingers free of crumbs. ‘Oh, I can’t wait. We’re going to have such great fun. I suppose you know him really well, don’t you, seeing as you know his mother?’

  ‘Oh, yes.’ Mary settled herself into the other chair by the fireside. ‘I’ve known him since he was a babby. I delivered him, just as I did all of you.’

  ‘So did you know his father? I don’t mean Fletcher Tuke, but—’

  ‘Noah,’ Mary said. ‘Yes. The Tuke boys played wi’ my nephew Tom Bolton. I knew most of ’bairns in ’district – and delivered ’em.’ She chuckled.

  ‘Did you?’ he said, sounding impressed. ‘All the Tuke boys?’

  ‘Have another slice of cake,’ she said, successfully changing the subject. ‘Or will it spoil your lunch?’

  ‘It won’t,’ he said, taking another slice. ‘But not my father?’ he said cheekily. ‘You won’t have delivered him?’

  ‘Get away wi’ you,’ she admonished him. ‘I’m not so old! But I remember your father when he was a youngster, about your age I suppose, and wanting to finish school, just like you.’ She gazed into the fire. ‘I worked in ’laundry room at ’manor; I knew everybody. We were a very close community, and I was allus called upon to deliver ’babbies.’

  And then she realized that she had been channelled back to the same subject and said deftly, ‘So tell me where you and Daniel are off to on this travelling malarkey.’

  When Beatrice came to see Mary she had sighed dramatically and asked her if she thought anyone would want to marry her and would it matter if she chose someone who might be considered unsuitable.

  ‘Well, I’ve never been married, Miss Beatrice, so I’m not sure if I’m ’right person to ask. Your mama would be ’best person for that, but in my opinion you should enjoy your freedom while you can. Once you’re married and tied to someone for life you might wish you hadn’t been in such a hurry to tie ’knot.’

  ‘I’m not in a hurry,’ Beatrice said. ‘But I know that once I’ve been finished, word will get out that I’m available and I hate the thought of that. I want to marry for love, not money or prestige.’

  Stephen and George had no such worries, Mary reflected. George was still too young and not yet considering females and was assured, in his own mind, that he was destined for higher things. Stephen, Mary was quite sure, would decide his own destiny. He was different from Charles, and not only in his features, which favoured his paternal grandfather, whom she remembered. He was broad-shouldered and square-jawed like him, and had a manner that proclaimed he would make his own decisions.

  He did, however, come to her during that Christmas holiday to communicate to an ear that would listen to his thoughts on his future.

  ‘What I’ve decided, Nanny, is that I’d like to go to an agricultural college and learn about what’s happening in farming not only in this country but also abroad. You see,’ he went on thoughtfully, ‘I need to do that in order to survive in farming – because you might not be aware that agriculture has seen some very dark days.’ He didn’t notice her sighs as he told her of the things that had come to his attention, convinced with the surety of youth that she must benefit from his insight.

  ‘But how to convince my father,’ he ended, a trifle despondently. ‘Because I would like to go this coming year.’

  When he put the proposal to his father he was told that he was too young; but Christopher’s growing realization that his children had minds and ideas of their own was strengthened when Beatrice and Charles told him that they didn’t want a birthday party this year.

  ‘I don’t understand our children,’ he complained to Melissa. ‘They don’t want to follow our advice, but only to do what they want. My goodness,’ he said, exasperated. ‘My father would be turning in his grave if he knew.’

  ‘Then it’s as well that he doesn’t know,’ Melissa said mildly. ‘And isn’t it good that they all have some idea of what they want to do with their lives? I didn’t; I only knew that I was expected to marry well. So we should be glad for them, and admit that the reason why Charles and Beatrice don’t want a party is that they think we will only invite suitable people that we have chosen rather than those they would like to come.’

  Christopher harrumphed. ‘Which of course we will.’

  A thick fall of snow at the beginning of January stopped the meeting of the two families and it was just a few days before Beatrice was due to depart for Switzerland and her brothers for school that a meeting was hastily arranged.

  ‘I’d like to listen in, Charles, if I may,’ George said. ‘I’ve written an itinerary for you.’ He handed Charles two sheets of paper with suggestions of countries they might like to visit and the proposed length of time they would spend there.

  Charles was astonished that his young brother would take so much trouble. ‘That’s very kind of you, George, but Daniel and I have yet to decide on where we are going and how we will get there.’

  ‘I know,’ George nodded. ‘But this is a starting point. You can add to it or subtract as you wish. I propose that you start from a southern port rather than a northern one.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Charles said wryly. ‘I’ll discuss it with Daniel.’

  Harriet came with Daniel. As she had rightly predicted, Fletcher had some very urgent business on the farm that couldn’t possibly be left. ‘They’ll understand,’ he told her, ‘and I don’t see that I’ll be needed in any case. Daniel is able to make his own decisions. He knows how much money he’ll have to manage on, and we can give him a bit extra for emergencies, can’t we? I’d hate to think he’d be stranded in a foreign country.’ He’d kissed her cheek. ‘Don’t worry about him. He’ll have a tremendous time, something to look back on when he’s older.’

  ‘So,’ Harriet had had to ask, ‘you’re sure that he’ll come back?’

  ‘Course he’ll come back,’ he said, heading for the door, and then turned and grinned. ‘Even if it’s to tell you that he’s going away again.�
��

  They were shown into the manor’s downstairs sitting room, where Beatrice, Charles and their mother were waiting. Melissa greeted them warmly and coffee and biscuits were served. Harriet apologized that Fletcher wasn’t able to come as some of the sheep were lambing and he needed to be there. She thought that Melissa seemed relieved by his absence, but she simply answered that she quite understood and that her husband had also been held up but would be along very shortly.

  ‘As will George,’ Charles told them. ‘I hope you don’t mind, Daniel, but he asked if he could come in to listen. He’s written us an itinerary.’

  ‘Really? That’s decent of him.’ Daniel was impressed. ‘Where does he suggest we travel to? I haven’t discussed it with Granny Rosie yet. Every time I start to ask her she changes ’subject. I think she’s putting off talking about it.’

  Melissa caught Harriet’s glance, and smiled. ‘Maybe it’s difficult for her to dredge up old memories,’ she said. ‘You have your grandfather’s name, Daniel; perhaps that will be enough. Orsini might be a regional name.’

  ‘It’s Italian.’ George had come in without their noticing and had seated himself on the wide windowsill. ‘I looked it up,’ he said, giving a secret and satisfied smile. ‘You need to visit Rome.’

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  ‘Why Rome?’ Daniel asked.

  ‘Because it’s the capital,’ George said.

  ‘We know that,’ Charles butted in.

  George looked at his notes. ‘Since 1871,’ he continued, as if his brother hadn’t spoken. ‘It’s a very poor country. Oh, and another thing. The person you’re looking for might not be there; he might have left Italy and gone to live somewhere else, like America, because there’s been mass emigration in the last few years.’

  ‘Well, thank you for the history lesson, George,’ his mother said, pleased with her clever son, but knowing that he loved to impart his knowledge and if he were allowed to continue no one else would get a word into the conversation.

  ‘It won’t matter, will it?’ Charles said sotto voce to Daniel. ‘We can still travel there.’

 

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