The Factory Girl

by Nancy Carson

  Magdalen now lived in another part of Wessex House, separate and self contained, away from Neville and his family. She was not remote, however. They had contact most days, but this living arrangement meant that neither party could intrude on, or unduly influence the other. It seemed to suit everybody, including her grandchildren, who spent time with her every day. And Magdalen liked to entertain her own friends sometimes, without inflicting them on the others.

  And so, having taken a last look at herself in the cheval glass in her bedroom, and satisfied that she looked her usual immaculate self, she stepped downstairs unhurriedly to the drawing room, to await the arrival of Neville’s and Eunice’s special guests.

  Prompt at half past seven, Lilian, the maid, answered the front door bell. She led Henzey and Will Parish into the drawing room where Eunice and Magdalen were sitting. Magdalen stood up as they entered. The guests greeted Eunice with warmth and she offered her cheek. Then she introduced them to Magdalen, who smiled serenely and shook their hands in turn.

  ‘I am so happy to meet you,’ Magdalen said sincerely to Will, letting her hand linger in his for a second or two while she studied him. She turned to Eunice. ‘You are right, my dear. The resemblance is astonishing. There can be no mistake.’

  Will looked at Henzey, puzzled, and she returned his smile blandly.

  Eunice said, ‘Please do sit down and I’ll ask Lilian to pour you drinks. Are you both well? Henzey, you look radiant.’

  ‘Thank you. We’re both well.’

  ‘It seems so long since last we met. Such a pity. But we’ve asked you to join us this evening for a very special reason.’

  ‘Yes,’ Will said. ‘And many happy returns.’

  At the prompt Henzey fished in her handbag and pulled out an envelope. ‘I almost forgot…A birthday card for you, Eunice.’ She handed it over. ‘Many happy returns of the day. But we had no idea what to give you. So in the end I bought this.’ She delved again into her bag and brought out a small parcel, neatly wrapped in silver paper.

  ‘That’s very kind of you, Henzey, but really there was no need.’ She opened the card, read it, smiled and thanked them again, then opened the gift. It was a ceramic model of a house, exquisitely made, similar in style to Wessex House. ‘Oh, that’s too delightful. Thank you again. I shall treasure it.’ Eunice handed the card and gift to Lilian, who placed the card with others and positioned the model house on the mantelpiece, before proceeding to offer Henzey and Will sherry. ‘Thank you, Lilian,’ Eunice said when she had finished, and Lilian departed.

  ‘Where’s Neville?’ Henzey asked casually. It seemed to her odd that he should not be present. And she was strangely keen to see him in the full light of day.

  ‘He’s joining us shortly. First, however, I have to explain the other reason you were invited. It’s not just a birthday celebration, you see. We hope it will be much more than that.’

  ‘Oh?’ Will uttered, with curiosity.

  ‘It concerns you both, of course, but you in particular, Will. It will also explain Magdalen’s presence. Now breathe deeply, you two, and brace yourselves. This may come as quite a surprise, I fear.’ Henzey held her breath, fearfully certain of what was coming next. ‘You see, we know who Neville’s missing twin brother is.’

  About to break before her was confirmation of what she had privately known for weeks; that Neville Worthington was Will’s twin brother and had been her erstwhile secret lover. But she must not let it show. She had to appear as surprised and bewildered at the imminent revelation as Will was sure to be. She had to, for the sake of her marriage. She had made this visit unwillingly. When the invitation to dinner was received, she shuddered at the prospect of the outcome. She’d tried to press Will into declining, but he was adamant that they attend.

  ‘But that’s unbelievable,’ she said, surprised at the ease with which she could carry it off. ‘What a turn-up for the books. So, who is he? Do we know him?’

  ‘Actually, he’s right here, in this very room.’

  Will glanced round to see if someone else had entered the room unseen, causing Eunice to chuckle.

  ‘No, it’s no-one outside these four walls, I’m happy to say. It’s you, Will. You are the missing twin.’

  If Henzey had been of a weak constitution and prone to fainting, she would have done so then. But she maintained her composure and, with no sign of the emotion within her, she sat confidently, elegant, her back erect, her head poised beautifully.

  Will glanced at her with doubt written all over his face, but she avoided his eyes. He looked at Magdalen for confirmation, then at Eunice. ‘But…But how can that be? How can you be so sure, when I don’t even know myself who my real mother and father were?’

  ‘But we know, Will,’ Magdalen said self-assuredly.

  ‘I don’t see how you possibly can.’

  ‘Be in no doubt that Bessie Hipkiss, whom you have doubtless heard mentioned, was your mother, too, Will. Oswald Worthington, my dear late husband, was indeed your father.’

  Eunice said, ‘Please just try to accept it for the moment, Will. In the meantime, Neville and I have agreed to put before you a proposition which we dearly hope will be acceptable to you…To both Henzey and yourself.’

  ‘A proposition?’

  ‘Broadly, Worthington Commercials wish to offer you, Will, a directorship and a substantial quantity of shares in the company. The particular situation we envisage is Director of Engineering, with responsibility for engineering development, reliability and quality of the products we manufacture. A seat on the Board would give you the opportunity of sharing decisions and accountability with the other board members, who are Neville, Magdalen, John Worthington who is your uncle on your father’s side, and myself. John, unfortunately, cannot be with us tonight. It means that the company would benefit from your input and experience. You would have a say in formulating and reformulating the policies of the firm, implementing them, and deciding on future projects and direction. We have in mind a salary of twelve hundred pounds a year to begin with…’

  ‘It sounds just up my street, Eunice,’ Will said, ‘but twelve hundred? That’s a handsome salary.’

  ‘It’s also a job with that sort of responsibility, Will…Relieving Neville of that particular burden. He has seen your work. He is aware of your capabilities. He recognises that you are right for the job and right for Worthington Commercials – and not just because you’re his brother. We are all most anxious that you accept.’

  Will looked at Henzey, perplexed. ‘This is all beyond me,’ he said. ‘It’s all happened so fast, I’m utterly confused…totally unprepared.’

  ‘But you’ll accept.’

  ‘Of course, on the face of it I’m inclined to accept. It’s an incredible offer…and I thank you most heartily for bestowing this sort of…of beneficence upon me. It really was the last thing…’

  ‘Both Neville and I have been keen for you to share something of his good fortune,’ Eunice explained, ‘ever since we were aware of your real identity. For years, he has firmly believed his twin brother would reappear and he’s looked forward to that day eagerly. Very eagerly, in fact. It has been one of his deepest regrets that you were not with him to share his life, his education, his play, his hobbies and interests – and more latterly, the family business. He sees this as a way of helping redress the balance. Both Magdalen and I are in complete agreement with him.’

  ‘It really is a most generous offer,’ Will said.

  ‘An offer based equally on your merits. Not just on nepotism.’

  ‘I’m literally dumbfounded. I don’t know what to say.’ He turned to Henzey again for help. ‘Did you know anything of this?’

  Henzey shook her head. ‘Nothing.’

  This offer, however, was as much of a surprise to her as to her husband. Naturally she could see the benefits and she believed that Will should accept, if only to better himself. Her thoughts were not for herself, only for him. It might mean more job satisfaction, greater intere
st, greater involvement, and greater incentive to do a fine job.

  ‘Lucas’s will miss you, Will,’ she added. ‘You’ve been a good and loyal servant to them. But they’re big and they’ll survive without you. In any case, I imagine you’d still be dealing with them from time to time. I doubt if you’d lose contact.’

  ‘Of course, of course…’ She had put it into proper perspective. ‘Yes, I accept, Eunice. I’m very happy to accept Worthington Commercials’ very generous offer.’ He laughed at his own confusion, induced by both his incredulity and his unexpected good fortune. ‘In a minute or two I shall wake up and realise it was all a dream.’

  ‘It’s no dream, Will.’ It was Neville who spoke.

  He stood in the doorway from the hall, smiling expectantly.

  Henzey looked at him with astonishment. Although she’d lain with him, it had always been in darkness or low light. She’d had no opportunity to study him closely in his clean-shaven guise. The eccentric she’d known before, with the long hair and thick beard, had gone. Instead, she saw the image of Will. The smile, the nose, the chin, and most of all, those soulful tortoiseshell eyes. The eyes were the spitting image of Will’s, exactly as her drawing had depicted. She asked herself again why she had never spotted the similarity before. Why had she failed to consider Will’s fostering, and hence his candidature for Neville’s twin?

  ‘You’ve shaved your beard off,’ she said with deliberate inadequacy, aware of a tremble in her voice.

  ‘And had my hair cut.’

  ‘I…I must say, it suits you better. Was that when you realised Will was your brother? When you shaved your beard off and saw the likeness?’

  ‘No, no, it was before then,’ he replied awkwardly. ‘It was a gradual realisation. First one thing, then another.’

  ‘Did you know when we visited Clara Maitland and her mother?’

  ‘Yes, I was aware of it then.’

  ‘And yet you never let on.’ She uttered the words lightly for the audience, but his confessions of love for her, while they sat sweltering in his car on the drive of the golf club, flooded back.

  Neville knew he was being secretly reprimanded and made no further reply. Instead he turned to Will who was now standing, fidgeting like an old maid, uncertain what to do, uncertain how to greet his new-found brother. Neville held out his hand, and Will took it, smiling, his eyes filling with emotion as he recognised his own likeness in Neville. Now, for him too, it was proof enough.

  ‘Welcome home, Will,’ Neville said, gripping his shoulder fraternally with his left hand. ‘Welcome to the family, old boy. I’m sorry to spring it on you so unexpectedly, but I’m so glad I can acknowledge you as my brother at last.’

  Will said, ‘I’m flabbergasted, you know. When did…?’

  Neville dismissed the question with a wave of his hand. ‘It’s time to celebrate.’

  Two bottles of champagne were standing on the sideboard in a silver cooler. Neville took one, wiped it with the white cloth lying next to it and undid the wire around the cork. He prised the cork out with his thumbs. It popped and, at once, he turned to the five crystal glass flutes waiting to be filled. Hardly losing a drop as it bubbled energetically out of the bottle, he deftly began to pour.

  He turned round, carrying the tray with the glasses of champagne before him. He handed one first to Henzey and she peered into his eyes intensely. He caught her glance and raised his eyebrows for an instant to privately declare his admiration. His eyes sparkled impishly and, as they told again of his desire for her, she felt a gush of hot blood through her veins. There had always been something about him that attracted her; something beyond the unfashionable beard and long hair. Now here he stood in all his glory, physically the image of Will; but conversely, the image of what Will might be if he had Neville’s presence and expensive grooming.

  He handed out the rest of the glasses and proposed a toast to Will; to a prosperous future with Worthington Commercials.

  When they sat down for dinner in the dining room, Magdalen led much of the conversation, telling them her side of the story. ‘You know, Will,’ she said with a sincere smile, placing her knife and fork together on her plate, ‘I prayed that you would come to me. I wanted you under my wing so badly, for my own, as much as for Neville’s benefit. Of course, I would never have robbed your foster parents of you as long as they wanted and loved you, but I prayed something would happen to make you available to me. But it was not to be. And I was so overwhelmed when Mr Newton brought you that I never had the presence of mind to ask him his address, so that I could contact him and find out where you were. Yet here you are now, thirty-three years later, found at last, under circumstances I never could have imagined. But no longer a child, of course.’

  ‘It’s going to take me some time to get used to it,’ Will responded. He’d been picking at his poached haddock half-heartedly, barely interested in food. ‘It’s quite a shock to the old system to know who you really are, when you’ve never really known; when you’ve never really sought to know.’

  ‘So shall you tell your foster parents about this?’ Eunice enquired.

  He hesitated. ‘Not for the time being. I’m certain it would unsettle them, although they would be proud enough once they’d got used to the idea. I think I’ll leave it a while. I don’t think we’ll tell anybody till it’s all cut and dried. Neither my folks, nor Henzey’s.’

  ‘I have a letter here, Will,’ Magdalen said. She leant down to reach her handbag and fished out a folded piece of paper. ‘It’s a note from Bessie to your father. I’d very much like to read it out…“Dearest Ossie,” it says, “I realise it’s awkward for you to see me today because of your special guest,” meaning me, since I was staying at the house, “but there is something I have to tell you what won’t keep any longer.” Her grammar was not perfect, Will, but I think we may easily forgive her that. “I’m pregnant, and you are the father of the child, a fact I’m certain you’ll witness as the truth. I understand the difficulty this puts you in, Ossie, but I’m not unreasonable and I won’t make a fuss. I’m prepared to leave quietly if you can see your way clear to making some provision for me and your child. I would much rather have told you face to face, but you said not to bother you today and I am in the depths of despair, and have to let you know now. This is the only way I know how. I want you to know I regret nothing, and that I love you truly. Your ever faithful servant and friend, Bessie Hipkiss.’’’

  There was a silence that lasted some five or six seconds, but seemed much longer. Magdalen broke it by saying: ‘Can you imagine how she felt? She wrote this on New Year’s Day, in the year nineteen hundred. The day after your father announced his engagement to me. She must have been heartbroken, poor girl.’

  ‘If only she’d known what fate awaited her,’ Henzey commented.

  ‘But Ossie made no provision for her. I found this letter when Ossie had gone away to South Africa. Naturally, at the time, I was astounded and very, very upset. But when I was faced with the prospect of either turning Neville away or accepting him into our home, I recalled this letter. It helped me to decide that taking him was the right thing to do anyway.’

  ‘May I see it, please?’ Will asked.

  Magdalen handed it to him. He fingered it with care, in the knowledge that his own mother had handled it years ago, and he read it slowly before passing it to Henzey.

  Eunice said, ‘I imagine it will take some time for all this to sink in. But be happy, Will. It’s the start of a wonderful new life for you and Henzey. A whole new way of life. I’m certain you’ll both be extremely happy in it.’

  Will smiled. ‘Oh, we shall, Eunice. Once I’ve got used to my new identity.’

  Conversation continued affably, with talk about the policies and politics of Worthington Commercials taking up more of the conversation. Neville shifted his eyes from Henzey and spoke purposefully about how they should be planning a new range of vehicles and making contingency plans in case of war. He told how the resurging
economic growth of Germany was winning the industrialists over to Hitler’s politics.

  ‘Oh, please, let’s have no more war,’ Magdalen entreated. ‘Leave Herr Hitler to his own devices. He’ll not bother us.’

  ‘He’s ever likely to seek us out as allies,’ Neville said. ‘Trouble is, we can’t condone what he’s doing to the poor Jews, can we? Anyone as ruthless as that will have to be reckoned with. God knows what purgatory they’ll have to face next.’

  For a time, talk reverted to the motor trade, and Malcolm Campbell’s smashing the world speed record in his Bluebird car at over 300 miles per hour.

  ‘A veritable achievement,’ Neville said. ‘It can only do the British motor trade a power of good.’

  Henzey was thankful when dinner broke up. Neville had been sitting at the head of the table and she was seated on his left, opposite Will. All through dinner she had sensed Neville’s eyes on her and she had felt self-conscious because of it, certain that Eunice must be aware of her guilty secret.

  The weather that day had been fine and warm for September, and Eunice suggested they take a stroll through the garden in the dusk. They could take coffee and brandy later. Nobody was inclined to refuse and, when her wheelchair was manoeuvred through the French window and onto the patio, Will came forward to claim the privilege of pushing her in whichever direction she deemed worthy of attention. Magdalen ambled alongside Will in turn.

  So, Henzey found herself being partnered by Neville once again. They said nothing for the first minute or two, only smiled tentatively at each other, listening instead to Eunice, Will, and Magdalen as they stopped to admire this or that rose.

  Then he said, ‘I’m delighted Will has agreed to join us. You are too, presumably?’