Hope at Holly Cottage

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Hope at Holly Cottage Page 12

by Tania Crosse


  Ethel was nodding, her eyes still bright, and then the happy expression slid from her face. ‘What about you, now, Annie? What you’m going to do? You knows we doesn’t like you being all alone at your ’ouse. Right welcome you are to come an’ live yere with us. You knows Mum and Dad ’ave said so.’

  Anna’s guilt deepened. This, when she was to blame for everything. ‘Yes, I know they have. And I’m very grateful. But I can’t possibly accept. I’ll … I’ll have to go back. For a little while, anyway.’

  ‘What? Go back to Ashcroft Hall, you means, when they’ve treated you so bad, like?’

  Anna looked down at her hands, playing with them on her lap. ‘It’s the only thing I can do for the moment. Even if I got a job in Plymouth straight away, I couldn’t afford the rent on the house, and Dad left arrears as well. I can settle up with the landlord out of my savings, but I’d rather build them up again before I branch out on my own. And life’s not so bad at the Hall,’ she went on with growing assurance. ‘Lady Ashcroft’s been really good over all this. She said I was to take as long as I needed. Some people in her position might not have wanted me back with all the scandal about Dad attacking you all over the papers, but she said none of it was my fault and I’m to go back when I’m ready.’

  ‘She’d ’ave a job to replace someone as good as you, I reckons she meant,’ Ethel scoffed. ‘An’ I bets that Sir Gilbert ’as got summat to do with your decision, too.’

  ‘Sir Gilbert?’ Anna’s heart fragmented at the mention of his name, but she mustn’t let Ethel know of the agony that still tore her apart. ‘Oh, he was married last weekend,’ she managed to shrug casually. ‘In London. You see, I told you there was nothing between us.’

  ‘Oh. Oh, all right, then.’ To her relief, Ethel looked quite satisfied. ‘But are you sure you won’t come an’ live with us? We’d love you to.’

  With the tension eased, Anna was able to smile broadly. ‘Where would I sleep? In the bath – if you had one? And I couldn’t stand your mum’s cooking.’

  She saw Ethel laugh, and then grimace as she held her painful ribs. Oh, dear. Another reminder, and Anna felt ashamed. She had lied to her dear friend again. At least, all she had said was true, but her main reason for returning to Ashcroft Hall was to prove to Ethel – and to herself – that Gilbert meant nothing to her at all anymore.

  ‘You must be Anna,’ the clear young voice stated with apparent delight. ‘I’ve heard so much about you.’

  I bet you have. The acid words sparked through Anna’s brain in a flash of bitterness as she came through the servants’ door and nearly bumped into the strange girl who was sauntering along the upstairs corridor. Anna had deliberately been avoiding the newly-weds who had returned from their honeymoon that afternoon. But she had to see Gilbert’s wife sometime, and might as well have a visual image to heap her scorn upon. And so she lifted her head.

  Mrs Francesca Ashcroft was a tiny wisp of a thing, even more petite than Anna herself and certainly not much older. She had the air of someone who appeared lost in this great house, more like a timid maid on her first day of service, and Anna felt her disdain unexpectedly retreating. For a few moments, she was quite deflated and unsure of herself.

  ‘Yes, I’m Anna, Lady Ashcroft.’ And then she found herself saying, ‘I hope you’ll be very happy at Ashcroft Hall.’

  ‘Oh, I’m sure I will be. I haven’t been here since I was a child, and it isn’t really how I remember it at all! It used to frighten me a bit, but now I can see it’s just, well, dowdy and depressing. It could be really lovely, though, if it was updated a bit, don’t you think?’

  Anna was quite taken aback. ‘I-well, I’d never really thought about it,’ she stammered. ‘I was just about to put these flowers in your room, if that’s all right?’

  ‘Oh, aren’t they lovely! From the garden, are they?’

  ‘Yes. Mr Smudge—’

  ‘Does he still do the gardening? I remember how kind he was when I was little. Oh, let me open the door for you.’

  ‘Thank you, Lady Ashcroft.’

  Anna was overwhelmed. And a touch annoyed. She had wanted to hate this vixen who had taken Gilbert from her. Had wanted her to be haughty and aloof so that she could despise her even more. But Francesca was warm and engaging, and on first impressions, Anna rather liked her. It was so confusing, and Anna felt somewhat ashamed.

  ‘Shall I put the flowers on this side table, Lady Ashcroft?’ she asked amiably. ‘If I put them by the window, they won’t last so long.’

  ‘Yes, thank you. Oh, they look perfect there. And so beautifully arranged. Did you do them?’

  ‘Yes, I did, actually, Lady Ashcroft,’ Anna answered with a touch of pride.

  ‘I thought so. Gilbert said you were good at flower arranging. In fact, he said you’re good at most things and that he reckons Mrs Davenport’s a bit jealous because you’d probably do her job better than she does. I’ve only been here a couple of hours and already I can see she’s a right old dragon.’

  Her eyes had stretched with innocence, like two cornflower saucers of fine porcelain, Anna thought. As the lady dowager had said, her daughter-in-law was a lovely girl, like a fresh spring breeze, and was totally oblivious to Anna’s tortured feelings over Gilbert. Anna vowed at once to make up for any rancour she might have shown towards her.

  ‘She is a bit,’ she smiled back. ‘But she is very efficient and I’ve learnt a lot from her.’

  ‘Well, I think you’re very generous about her. She said she’d come and unpack for me shortly, but I’d much prefer you to do it. We could do it together. It’d be much more fun. In fact, I’m so glad you’re here. It’ll be so nice to have someone of my own age to talk to, especially when Gilbert’s locked away in the study working. Lady Prue’s all right, but I’d like to have you as my friend as well.’

  She had taken Anna’s hands, her eyes dancing happily, and Anna gazed back almost mesmerised. The girl had a magnetic charm, and Anna had a vision of a whirlwind of twinkling stars swooping about the room with her, like in a Walt Disney film. Anna broke into a smile, both at hearing her mistress referred to as ‘Lady Prue’, and at Francesca’s open and endearing manner.

  ‘Of course, Lady Ashcroft. I’d be delighted.’

  ‘Well, in that case, you must drop the “Lady Ashcroft” bit,’ she grinned back. ‘I much prefer to be called plain “Frankie”.’

  ‘How could you, Gilbert?’ Anna hissed between clenched teeth. ‘You led me on, made me believe there was a future for us. Seduced me, for God’s sake, when all along, you knew you were about to marry someone else.’

  She had found herself unexpectedly alone with Gilbert, and all her tamped-down emotions suddenly erupted in a fountain of anger. She hadn’t been feeling too good the last few days, either, and right now she was powerless to hold back the festering rage that boiled up inside her.

  ‘Hang on there, old girl.’ Gilbert turned mildly surprised eyes on her. ‘When did I ever say I’d marry you?’

  Anna stared at him, and gulped, his words striking her beneath the ribs. ‘You didn’t,’ she retorted. ‘But you implied that you would. You talked about us having a future together. About telling your mother about us.’

  ‘And I suppose I might have done,’ Gilbert shrugged carelessly as he stirred his coffee. ‘I was very fond of you, and under other circumstances, I might have considered you as a wife. But then there was this thing with Frankie’s father. I didn’t know that was going to happen, did I? Mother would have been frightfully upset if I’d backed out. She’d never have forgiven me. What was a chap to do? It was always understood that I’d marry Frankie, and I couldn’t let her down just when she needed me, could I?’

  ‘Needed you?’ Anna shook her head in an agony of frustration. ‘That poor girl needs you like a hole in the head!’

  ‘Oh, come now, Anna. She’d have been devastated if I’d turned her down.’

  Anna’s eyes narrowed to frosty slits. ‘For five minutes, maybe. Un
til she realised what a weak, spineless cad you are. If you’d had any guts, you’d have stood up to your mother long ago. I was jealous, you know. Broken-hearted and angry. But now I’m glad that you married Francesca because it saved me from it. I’m not jealous anymore. And I feel really sorry for Francesca for being tied to such a treacherous bastard for the rest of her life!’

  She watched as his jaw dropped a mile. But she didn’t wait for a reply. Instead, she spun on her heel and marched out of the room. It would have been satisfying to slam the door, but she mustn’t. It would show she had lost control. And for the sake of the gentle, trusting girl who was taking her breakfast in bed that morning, Anna must keep her sordid affair with Gilbert a secret.

  That’s what it seemed to her now, sordid and dirty. What a fool she had been! But telling Gilbert what she thought of him had been a release. The tension had emptied out of her, but with it, she felt even sicker than before. She couldn’t go on like this, her stomach cramped with nerves all the time. She felt so awful, she had just been picking at her food recently. But confronting Gilbert – and realising she was well and truly over him – had set her much more at ease. As if the twisted threads of her life had miraculously begun to unravel.

  She squared her slim shoulders resolutely. It was now mid June. She calculated that, in a month’s time, she should have saved enough and could hand in her notice. By the end of July, she could be free of Ashcroft Hall and its unhappy memories for ever. Perhaps she would go and stay with Ethel just for a week or so until she could find suitable digs, and then take her time looking for a new, better-paid job. Enrol in evening classes when the new term started in September. She didn’t have to worry any more about her dad finding her, did she? So she could pick up her life again where she had left off, in Plymouth, among her friends.

  The thought filled her with pleasure.

  ‘I shall miss you so much when we go back to London,’ Francesca declared in her trusting, childlike way. ‘But you’ll be here whenever we come to visit, so I’ll look forward to it even more. I’ve rediscovered my childhood love of Dartmoor, but, of course, I want to be near Daddy for … for as long as I can.’

  Her bright, girlish voice trailed off in a sigh of sadness, and Anna saw her lower her eyes. Anna felt a twinge of guilt, for she couldn’t tell Frankie that next time she came to stay with her mother-in-law, her new friend would be gone.

  ‘It was like that for me when I came to work here,’ Anna said instead, ignoring Francesca’s last remark. ‘I was evacuated to Tavistock during the war, you know. We used to come up on the moor sometimes. Get the train up to Burrator and have a picnic. Or sometimes there was a special bus excursion up to Princetown and we’d get off somewhere on the way because it was cheaper. Not with my mum, though. She’d had to stay in Plymouth because of my dad. He’d been badly hurt rescuing some people from a bombed building, you see.’

  ‘Yes. Gilbert told me about it. And how your mother died in a tragic accident only last year, and your father … well, just recently. I’m so sorry.’

  Anna gave a rueful smile. ‘It wasn’t quite how you might imagine. Not with my dad, anyway. It was an odd situation.’

  ‘Really? Do you want to talk about it?’

  Anna blinked at her and considered. She had to admit that having no one to talk to since coming back to Ashcroft Hall hadn’t been easy, especially with the added problem of her torn emotions over Gilbert. No wonder she’d been feeling rough. Unburdening herself to Frankie might help, though she’d have to be careful what she said.

  ‘All right. But I mustn’t be long.’

  Frankie had already sat down on the edge of the bed, one leg curled up beneath the other, and Anna went to join her. It crossed her mind that it was a bit like being with Ethel. Not that anyone could ever take Ethel’s place.

  ‘I was very close to my mum,’ she began, pouting her lips to fight the grief that instantly tried to close her throat whenever she thought of her mother. ‘I don’t suppose I’ll ever get over it properly. And I was there when it happened. She was only thirty-nine.’ Anna paused, lost for a moment in her own thoughts. But then she looked up sharply, brimming over with remorse. ‘But you lost your mum, too.’

  ‘When I was little. I’ve no memory of her whatsoever, so it wasn’t the same. But I’m dreading it when … when … Going through what you are over your mother. And your father, too.’

  Anna raised her eyebrows. Despite her juvenile manner, there was a depth in Francesca Ashcroft that reminded Anna in some way of Ethel. It struck her that she was going to miss Frankie, too.

  ‘It was different with him,’ she told her, almost apologetically. ‘I still don’t know how I feel about it. He’d been difficult ever since his injury in the war. His brain was affected, you see. He was a bit of a Jekyll and Hyde afterwards. So we weren’t really that close anymore.’

  ‘But he was still your father,’ Frankie whispered. And Anna saw tears welling in her lovely eyes. She was thinking of her own dad, wasn’t she, and what was to come? Anna instinctively squeezed her hand.

  ‘It won’t be easy for you either, but you’ve got your friends and your new family around you.’

  Frankie nodded and sniffed, and Anna saw a light shining in her glistening eyes. ‘Yes. And more than anything, I’ve got Gilbert. He’s a wonderful husband, you know. So supportive. I know we’ve known each other all our lives, but I couldn’t have married a better man.’

  Anna arranged her face into a smile. A better man! Just now, Anna couldn’t think of a more perfidious monster on earth! All her feelings of contempt and disgust rose up again, and she was gripped in another spasm of nausea. Only this time it was overwhelming and she knew she was going to be sick. She sprang up and dashed into the adjoining bathroom before vomiting into the lavatory.

  ‘Oh, Anna, are you all right?’ Frankie’s concerned tones reached her from the doorway.

  Anna straightened up and pulled the chain. Dear Lord, she felt awful, the tears the retching had brought to her eyes running down her cheeks. ‘Oh, I’m sorry. Using your bathroom like that.’

  ‘Don’t mention it.’

  ‘I think I must have picked up a bug or something,’ Anna murmured miserably.

  ‘You should go and lie down for a while. I’ll tell them downstairs you’re not well. We’re all entitled to be ill sometimes, you know.’

  ‘I don’t know about that. Mrs Davenport won’t be very pleased.’

  ‘Don’t worry about it. I’ll deal with her.’

  Her suddenly firm attitude took Anna by surprise. She was learning that Frankie was a much stronger character than she initially appeared.

  ‘Go on, go up to your room,’ Frankie was insisting now. ‘Or would you like me to come up with you?’

  ‘No. No thank you,’ Anna replied, overwhelmed by her kindness.

  ‘Up you go, then.’

  Anna dragged herself up the stairs. Her little room, so cold in winter, was like an oven in the summer heat, despite the open window. She kicked off her shoes and lay down on the bed. Oh, that was better, the nausea passing now that she’d been sick. It must have been something she’d eaten, although no one else had been ill. If she had a little rest, she’d be all right. Just ten minutes and she’d go back downstairs.

  She tried to get comfortable, but her chest was so sore and had been for a week or more. She got that sometimes when her period was late. It must be due soon. Trouble was, she was so irregular, she was inclined to lose track. And especially with everything that had happened – Gilbert’s marriage, her dad attacking Ethel and then being knocked down and killed by the lorry – it had been the last thing on her mind.

  So, when had she last been on? It was … was … ages ago. Shortly before she’d made the mistake of her life with Gilbert. Back in April. And it was nearly the end of June.

  A cold numbness began to creep through her veins like a slithering evil and she sat bolt upright on the bed. Oh, God. No. Surely it couldn’t be? After just th
at once? A desolate fist tightened in her chest. She was, wasn’t she? She was pregnant.

  Chapter Twelve

  The shock had sent her reeling. It felt unreal, as if this wasn’t happening. One of those moments when you feel detached, watching someone else’s life and not your own. A sudden emptiness, a shell, devoid of all feeling. And then slowly, her senses had trickled back. Oh, no. Oh, no. The words weighed down on her like a black fog from which there was no escape.

  Dear God. She shook her head, wanting to throw out the terrible truth, but she couldn’t, could she? Fate had played her a dirty trick and now she would have to face the consequences. Just as she thought her life was getting back on track, she had been dealt this devastating blow and now her world lay in splinters at her feet.

  What was she to do? Her first thought was to turn to Ethel, but she couldn’t. Her parents had been so good to her, but what would they think of her now with – she hardly dared say it – an illegitimate baby on the way? And she knew Ethel’s views. What was it she had said? Only wayward strumpets get up to that sort of thing? Oh, Lord, she was all alone now. She would have to face the future on her own. With Gilbert’s child.

  So, she wasn’t entirely alone, was she? Gilbert would simply have to take responsibility for his actions. A new life was growing inside her, and for its sake alone, she must fight. So when she finally found herself alone with Gilbert, she didn’t hesitate. He was working in the study one afternoon and when he ordered some tea, Anna made sure she was the one to take it to him.

  Her throat dried like desert sand at the sudden opportunity, but it was now or never. She could feel herself shaking as she walked along the below-stairs corridor, darker than ever because of the slab-grey sky that had given nothing but rain all day. But she had to be strong. There was nothing else for it.

  Gilbert glanced up, and Anna saw him lean back in the chair and stretch. He had evidently been smoking as he worked. Now he reached out to retrieve a recently lit cigarette that was smouldering in the ashtray and drew on it deeply. Then stretching his hand away, he nonchalantly blew a ribbon of grey smoke towards the ceiling and shot Anna a languid half smile, almost smirking as if … as if now he’d had what he wanted from her, she meant nothing more to him. The agony of her despair was at once swept aside. He had dishonoured and humiliated her. And now she was going to make him pay.

 

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