by Lee Strauss
Haley dropped her bags off then made introductions. “This is my friend, Lady Gold.”
Ginger glanced at her with annoyance, and Haley mouthed, “When in Rome…”
Miss Knight held out her hand. “Lady Gold, so nice to meet you!”
Miss Knight loved her job and showed Ginger and Haley the layout of the school like it was her first time doing so. “The labs are newly outfitted with all the latest equipment. I hear the forensic programme is very exciting.” She presented the library, the lecture theatres, and the cafeteria. “Our cook is from France, and the food is très délicieux.”
Ginger grinned at Miss Knight’s attempt at a French accent.
“Where are the dorms?” Haley asked. “I would like to get settled in.”
For the first time the smile fell from Miss Knight’s face and she nervously wrung her hands.
“Well, the thing is Miss Higgins, our school has become very popular and we give dorm priority to our first-year registrants. Since you are third year, well, many of our older students have taken flats in the city and commute here…”
Haley frowned. “Are you saying I don’t have a room?”
“We had hoped we’d have a place for you, but it turns out … well, we might be able to squeeze in a camp bed with … we’d have to discuss it with the students themselves first. I truly am sorry. I meant to ring you this afternoon.”
“That’s quite all right, Miss Knight,” Ginger said, “Miss Higgins can stay with me. I’d be happy to drive her.”
Haley let out a small groan. “I can catch one of those red General buses …”
Ignoring her friend’s subtle protest, Ginger continued, “Perhaps I could even sit in on a lecture or two.”
Miss Knight’s smile returned to her face. “I’m sure that could be arranged, Lady Gold.”
Haley gathered her suitcases. “Are you sure my staying with you is okay? That wasn’t part of the arrangement.”
“It’s more than okay,” Ginger said. “What are Boss and I going to do in that big house alone, anyway? Besides, you already have a room.”
Miss Knight gave Haley her course schedule and an omnibus transit booklet. “There’s also the underground railway,” she said. “The Piccadilly line runs from South Kensington to Russell Square.”
As they headed out, Haley muttered, “I won’t be caught dead underground.”
“Oh, silly, they’re perfectly safe.”
“I prefer the light of day.”
“Don’t tell me you suffer from claustrophobia?”
“There’s no shame in it if I do.”
Ginger honked at a wayward horse and cart as she rambled through Paddington, and Haley almost went blue from holding her breath.
Ginger was triumphant when she eventually eased the Daimler into the garage. “Now admit it,” she said. “My driving skills on the way back were nearly perfect.”
Haley mustered up a reply. “The drive through Hyde Park was particularly grand.”
“I agree.”
Pippins must’ve been watching for Ginger’s arrival as he greeted them in the garden before they reached the morning room.
“What is it?” Ginger asked. “Is something wrong?”
“Nothing amiss, madam, only you have unexpected guests.”
“I do? Who’s here?”
“Lady Ambrosia Gold and Miss Felicia Gold, madam.”
Ginger gripped Haley’s arm. “Oh mercy. You’re about to meet my in-laws.”
Chapter Nine
“There you are!” The Dowager Lady Gold said when Ginger and Haley entered the sitting room. Ambrosia and her granddaughter Felicia occupied the wingback chairs angled in front of a well-stoked fire. Ambrosia sat upright, poised, ankles crossed, a silver-handled walking stick propped up beside her, while Felicia, a slight girl with grey eyes and sporting a wavy dark brown bob, curled up lazily. Her fashionable double-strap pump shoes were tossed to one side on the Turkish carpet. Lizzie poured everyone another cup of tea.
“Hello, Grandmother Gold, Felicia! Such a surprise!”
Ginger bent over to kiss the elderly woman on a soft, plump cheek.
Ambrosia replied, “Since we’re family Georgia, I beg your pardon me, Ginger, I thought we could drop in.”
After much persuasion by Daniel, the Dowager Lady Gold had agreed to stop calling his wife Georgia, the formal first name found on Ginger’s birth certificate. Ginger was named after her father, George Hartigan, but her mother had christened her Ginger due to her red hair.
“No telling how long it would take you to remember us and extend an invitation,” Ambrosia continued.
“Oh, I could never forget you, Grandmother,” Ginger replied.
Felicia stood to greet her sister in-law. She had a sweet heart-shaped face with bright eyes and rosebud lips. Her rich, brunette bob was set in perfect finger waves and shone under the electric lights. She wore an orange chiffon day dress that hung loosely on her slender frame, with a satin sash-belt low on the hips, sleeves slit from the shoulders to the wrist and a hemline only just below the knee. It was bold and brave and made Ginger smile. “Dear Felicia.” Her voice was warm as she embraced her. “You’ve become such a beautiful young lady!”
“Thank you, Ginger. It’s so, so good to see you again. I thought we’d never—”
“Of course we would,” Ginger interjected. “And I’m here for an entire month.”
Felicia’s smile disappeared. “But, I thought you were moving here. To stay.”
“I’m not sure what I’m doing, darling, but let’s not worry about it today. Today we celebrate being together once again.” She drew Haley into the circle.
“Grandmother and Felicia, this is my dear friend Miss Higgins. She is lodging with me while a student at the London School of Medicine for Women. Haley, this is the Dowager Lady Gold and Miss Felicia Gold.”
Haley extended her hand to each of them in turn. “How do you do?”
“You’re American?” Ambrosia said with a hint of distrust in her voice.
“Yes, ma’am. From Boston.”
“Madam. Ma’am is reserved for Queen Mary.”
“Of course, madam,” Haley said. “We use the term casually in America. It just slipped out.”
Ambrosia sipped her tea then asked. “So, why are you in London, Miss Higgins?”
“I served in London as a nurse in the war. I fell in love with the city.”
“Oh, I would so love to go to America one day,” Felicia gushed. “Such an adventure!” Then she pouted. “I’ve never been anywhere.”
Ambrosia shuffled in her seat, “Where is your footman? Our luggage is waiting in the foyer.”
Ginger blinked. “Your luggage?”
“Yes, Ginger. We’ve come all the way from Hertfordshire. Surely, you recall how long a train ride one must endure getting here. We’re staying over the weekend, at least. And I didn’t bring my maid, since I thought for my short visit here, you wouldn’t mind lending me yours.”
Ginger kept her expression neutral but suddenly she felt exhausted. “I’m afraid we have a skeleton crew at the moment.” She bit her lip at her poor choice of words. How awful it would’ve been had she made a slip of the tongue and said “skeleton in the attic.”
“As you know, Hartigan House has been shut up for the last ten years,” she continued quickly. “I haven’t had a chance to do any hiring since I only arrived yesterday. The maid, Lizzie, can attend to you. I’m sure Pippins can take your luggage up.”
Pippins, who’d been standing to the side, nodded at Ginger and left the room.
“I’ll help,” Haley said then followed him. “I have my own suitcases to take up, too.”
Pippins and Haley disappeared leaving Ginger alone with her new guests.
“Skeleton crew,” the Dowager Lady Gold muttered as she took another sip of tea.
Ginger showed her guests to their rooms. Ambrosia, being elderly, slept every afternoon, while Ginger and Haley, suffering the effects
of the time difference between Boston and London, succumbed to the suggestion of a short, midday sleep. Only Felicia had the energy to make something of the afternoon and borrowed the Daimler to shop in the city.
The three nappers regrouped later that evening for dinner. Mrs. Thornton showed herself to be a wizard at producing a splendid three-course meal at short notice. Leek soup, steak and kidney pie and ending with apple crumble with custard.
Ginger and Haley sat opposite Ambrosia who appeared flustered at Felicia’s absence. “She’s a bit of a wild one,” she said. “I did my best but I was too old to take on the duties of motherhood. When my son and his wife died in that crash, my heart broke of course, but taking care of little Felicia and young Daniel kept me too busy to linger in sorrow. I suppose that was a silver lining. Daniel was older and an old soul—as you well know, Ginger—and stepped right into the role of man of the house. God bless him. But Felicia… I even hired a nanny and a governess, but she ran rings around us all.”
“I’m sure she’s just lost track of time,” Ginger said. “The city has a way of doing that. We can start without her.” She passed the dishes around for each of them to fill their plates.
“How are things at Bray Manor?” Ginger asked.
Ambrosia put her fork down and sighed. “It’s large and lonely.”
“Oh, Grandmother,” Ginger said. “Miss Higgins and I will come to visit you as soon as we can, isn’t that right, Haley?”
Haley gave Ginger a sideways glance then replied, “I’d be happy to join Lady Gold if I can take time from my studies.”
“The grounds are going to pieces, too,” Ambrosia said. “We can’t afford to employ enough staff.”
Ginger blinked. She knew how much money came from the Hartigan estate to prop up the large property. Keeping Bray Manor running was part of her marital agreement. Father’s contribution, now hers, should be more than enough, and Ginger wasn’t prepared to invest more. “Perhaps I can have a look at the books when I come. See what we can do.”
“Thank you, dear,” Ambrosia said. “I hate to bother you with our family’s troubles. As you know, my husband, Sir Artemis—God rest his soul—had a terrible gambling addiction. His sins have indeed been visited upon his children and children’s children. We’ve been suffering from his losses ever since.”
The back door of the house slammed. Felicia blew in with her arms full of packages and her face flushed with excitement. “First I went to Harrods—quite obviously, I need a new autumn-season wardrobe.” She removed a fox fur shawl and wrapped in around her shoulders, the head of the animal over her chest and the tail down her back. She spun on her heels to display it.
“Isn’t it fabulous?”
Ambrosia stared with mouth dropped open. “You’re not going to wear a dead animal on your person!”
“Indeed I am, Grandmama. It’s all the rage! What do you think, Ginger?”
“It’s quite glamorous, darling.”
Haley muttered, “In a morbid kind of way.”
Felicia’s good spirits would not be squashed. “After Harrods I went to the theatre district—so thrilling! I would go to a new show every night if I wasn’t held captive in the country. Oh Ginger, darling, I’m afraid the old Daimler might be in need of petrol—the looks the old thing got! You really should get something new.”
“Good heavens, child, take a breath!” Ambrosia said.
Felicia claimed the empty chair beside her grandmother. “Grandmama, we really need to move into the city. I shall simply die an old spinster at Bray Manor, shan’t I, Ginger? The war has robbed Hertfordshire of all the young men. Ginger, you have loads of space here—might I not move in with you?”
Ambrosia dropped her fork. The clang of silver on porcelain reverberated along the high ceilings. For a moment, everyone forgot to breathe.
“Don’t be a young fool,” Ambrosia sputtered. “You can’t just invite yourself to live with whomever you please.”
“Oh, Grandmama. It’s not like Ginger’s a stranger. She’s my sister.”
“Felicia,” Ginger said calmly. “You are always welcome at Hartigan House, however, you can’t possibly think of leaving your grandmother alone in the country?”
“I’m twenty-one years old! Am I expected to live at Bray Manor until she dies?”
“Felicia!” Ginger said, alarmed by her young sister’s lack of propriety.
Felicia had the decency to cast a sheepish glance at Ambrosia who just tutted.
“But am I? I have no money of my own and no way to make any. There aren’t any decent eligible bachelors in Hertfordshire to speak off. I’m going to grow old and die alone!”
“You must not get so worked up,” Ginger said, “I’m certain …”
Felicia perked up and interrupted. “Grandmama can move here, too!”
“That is quite enough, young lady!” Ambrosia said. “I forbid you to go into town alone again—look at the nonsense you’ve picked up there!”
“Grandmama!” Felicia whined. “You can’t be serious.”
“I’ve never been more serious in my life,” Ambrosia said firmly. To Ginger she added, “I do apologise. Felicia’s always been a bit headstrong.”
Felicia snorted.
“It’s all moot anyway,” Ginger said. “I plan to sell Hartigan House and go back to Boston.”
Both Ambrosia and Felicia stared back at her with slack jaws.
“You’re leaving us?” Felicia finally said.
Ginger’s heart pinged at the note of loss in her young sister-in-law’s voice.
“Well, eventually dear, I have to. My mother and sister…”
“Of course,” Felicia said. She straightened, thrust her chin out. Something in her eyes flickered out. Hope?
Ginger felt horrid. Felicia had suffered so much loss in her short life. Belatedly Ginger understood that Felicia’s desire to move in wasn’t for the ease of shopping in town, but to be closer to her.
“Felicia, darling,” she said kindly. “Nothing is settled yet. The truth is, I’m not certain what I’m going to do. The only thing I’m sure of is I need to redecorate, should I sell or should I stay. Would you like to help me with that?”
Felicia seemed to soften at the invitation. “I might as well be of some use since I’m here anyway.”
“I hate to interrupt,” Haley said, “but would you mind passing the butter?”
Chapter Ten
Ginger intercepted Haley the next morning as she rushed down the steps.
“Where are you off to in such a hurry?”
Haley pushed stray curls from her dark eyes as she glanced over her shoulder. “I’ve got a bus to catch.”
Ginger scurried to catch up, Boss on her heels, arriving with Haley at the door. “Are you going to the medical school? I can drive you?”
Haley smiled as she slipped into her tweed suit jacket and pressed her felt cloche more firmly on her head. “It’s quite all right, Ginger. I think I’ll enjoy the chance to take in the views.” She slipped on her gloves and smirked. “Without having to worry if I’ll live to see the next crossroad.”
“Pfft. You were perfectly safe.”
“Maybe so, but don’t you have shopping to do with your sister-in-law today?”
“Quite right. Off you go then. Do pay attention—I want a full report when you get back.”
Haley saluted. “Yes, madam.”
Ginger closed the door behind her friend then called Boss to follow her to the kitchen.
“Lizzie, have you seen Miss Felicia?”
The maid dipped in a curtsey. “She’s not been down for breakfast yet, madam.”
“Oh dear,” Ginger said. “I remember when I could sleep like that. I’ll go and rouse her. Please ask Mrs. Thornton to warm something up for her. Come on, Boss.”
A knock on Felicia’s door produced a muffled groan. Ginger let herself in.
“Felicia, darling. If you’re coming shopping with me, you must get up.”
Ginger pu
lled the heavy curtains wide, and Felicia moaned. “Turn it off.”
“I can’t turn off the sun, love. You should be pleased that it’s not raining. Let’s enjoy this perfect day while we can.” Ginger motioned to Boss to jump on the bed.
“Good boy, Boss,” she said. Boss sniffed Felicia and rubbed a wet nose across her cheek.
“Ew, get off me you wretched beast!”
“Boss is not wretched, if you please, simply obedient to my commands. He’s not going to stop molesting you until you get up.”
“Fine.” Felicia pulled herself into a sitting position. Her short hair was plastered messily to one side. Eyes squinty and puffy, she held a hand up to shield them from the sunlight. “I’m coming.”
“Good. Mrs. Thornton has your breakfast waiting. We really do have a lot to do, so make haste.”
Ginger decided the time she spent waiting would do to take Boss for a walk. It’d been years since she’d strolled through the neighbourhood. Boss was excited about the venture, stopping every few minutes to mark his territory. Mallowan Court was an upper-class neighbourhood and Hartigan House nestled in loosely with other similarly grand homes. None had the elegance and sophistication they had had before the Great War lashed their nation. Soot from the industrial area had found them too. Windows needed cleaning, brickwork replacing, gardens trimming. The homes appeared tired, but with some of them, there were signs of renewal. Ginger waved to her neighbours as she passed and was waved to, but she didn’t know any of them, and of course, they didn’t know who she was.
She circled back in time to witness an older, well-dressed woman being led out of the house next door by a younger man. The woman called out when she saw Ginger.
“Are you Lady Gold?”
Ginger approached and signalled to Boss to sit on the pavement by her feet.
“I am.” On closer inspection Ginger recognised the woman from her last visit. A decade had made her neighbour’s hair go completely white. “Mrs. Schofield?”
Mrs. Schofield took Ginger’s gloved hand with her own. “You remembered! My dear, my condolences on the loss of your father—and of your husband—I heard he didn’t make it through the terrible fighting. So much loss for one so young.”
