Amberwell (Ayrton Family Book 1)

by D. E. Stevenson

  “How nice for them,” said Roger with a little twist of his lips.

  “Yes, it is nice,” agreed Mrs. Ayrton. “There’s no need to worry about Connie, her marriage is a great success in every way …” and she went on talking about Connie and Gerald and the new house.

  When Roger could get a word in he asked again about Anne but Mr. Ayrton merely said that as far as he knew she was well and turned the conversation to other matters.

  “I don’t know how we are going to keep up the gardens,” declared Mr. Ayrton. “The two under-gardeners are leaving to join the Army and it seems impossible to replace them. Gray still has a boy, but —”

  “There’s a war on,” said Roger.

  “We know that, dear,” said Mrs. Ayrton. “We know it only too well; it isn’t only the gardens. The head-housemaid is leaving next week. She’s going into the Wrens. It seems quite ridiculous. Janet is a good housemaid but what use will she be in the Wrens?”

  “She will learn to Serve her Country in its Hour of Need,” said Roger with a mirthless laugh.

  Nell glanced at him and saw that his face had gone white and his jaw hardened. She said timidly, “We want to hear about Roger’s plans, don’t we?”

  “Of course,” agreed Mr. Ayrton. “But I expect Roger’s plans will be arranged for him; he won’t have much say in the matter. I wanted to ask your advice,” he continued turning to Roger. “I have been trying to find out how I could get the garden-boy exempted. If he has to go I don’t know what we shall do.”

  “Get a woman,” said Roger shortly.

  “Good heavens, Gray wouldn’t like that! Fergus is a very good lad and he understands vegetables. I thought you might be able to tell me —”

  “No, I can’t,” replied Roger. He added in a low voice, “and I wouldn’t if I could.”

  “I don’t understand your attitude,” declared Mr. Ayrton in annoyance. “One would think you would take some interest in the gardens. The place will belong to you some day.”

  “We’ve got to win the war.”

  “But we shall need food,” Mr. Ayrton pointed out. “To my mind it’s very short-sighted policy to call up all the able-bodied men.”

  “We shall need every able-bodied man to beat the Germans,” said Roger. “When we’ve won the war we can tidy up the gardens — if there are any gardens left.”

  “The war will be over before the men are trained,” declared Mr. Ayrton. “It’s a waste of time calling up thousands of men from all over the country — and a waste of money as well.”

  “People said that in the last war, didn’t they?”

  The argument continued, it went round and round and got nowhere. Nell became more miserable every minute. It seemed so dreadful. Roger had come home to say goodbye before going to France — they might never see him again — and they were wasting the precious hours arguing about gardeners and housemaids. Nell did not know what they should be talking about — but surely something important, something worthwhile. At last she could bear it no longer so she rose and said she was going to bed.

  “Going to bed already!” exclaimed Mrs. Ayrton in surprise.

  “I’ve got a headache,” said Nell.

  2

  Nell’s quiet room welcomed her and soothed her as it always did. Anne’s bed stood beside her own and (although there was no Anne to lie beside her and talk to her) she found its presence comforting. Nannie had suggested moving it to give her more room, but she would not have it moved. Anne had been banished from Amberwell but her bed would remain in Nell’s room.

  When Nell had undressed and put out the light she opened the window wide and lay looking out at the stars … and presently the moon rose from behind the hill like a great golden ball. Nell’s head ached and her heart ached too. She was too unhappy to sleep.

  Presently there was a tap on the door and it opened softly.

  “Nell, can I come in?” asked Roger.

  All at once Nell was reminded of the night when Tom had turned on the fountain; there was the same feeling of secrecy about this clandestine visit, and the same shaft of moonlight was streaming into the room.

  “I’ve got to speak to you,” said Roger, closing the door softly and coming to sit down upon her bed. “I’ve got to speak to somebody. They don’t understand at all. They’re absolutely mad. The whole world is falling to pieces and they go on discussing weeds in the rose-beds.”

  “I know,” said Nell. She could see his face in the moonlight. It was white and strained.

  “You said nothing,” continued Roger. “I could see you felt wretched.”

  “We should have been talking to you about — about things that matter.”

  “It made me angry,” Roger admitted. “When they said Gerald was too valuable — silly to be angry of course — and the garden-boy is valuable too! But never mind that. The thing that really upset me that it’s all such a waste of time. I came home hoping that Father would talk to me sensibly about plans — about business affairs. Other fellows know all about their parents’ affairs but I know nothing. Sometimes Father behaves as if he had lashings of money and sometimes he talks as if he could hardly make ends meet, so I don’t know where I am. Other fellows get a definite allowance, or else not, so they know whether they ought to save or whether they can afford to splash it about; they know what’s behind them. Father doesn’t seem to want to do that. He gives me a present of money now and then — sometimes quite a lot — and of course I’m grateful, but I’d rather know exactly how I stood.”

  Nell saw. As a matter of fact she was treated in the same way. She had no definite allowance but just an occasional present. She never knew where she was. It was inconvenient for her but it was far worse for Roger.

  She said in a low voice, “I’ve got a little in the Savings Bank. Perhaps you’ll — need it — in France.”

  “Dear lamb, I shan’t need it in France! There’ll be nothing to spend it on. But it’s very sweet of you all the same.”

  “Oh, Roger, I wish you weren’t going.”

  “That’s all right,” he said quickly. “I’ve been trained for this and in some ways I’m glad it’s come. We’ve all been expecting it for ages. The only thing is I’d like to have — to have something to hold on to — at home. Other fellows have families that are part of them. It’s difficult to explain what I mean.”

  “They do love you,” whispered Nell.

  “Not really,” said Roger thoughtfully. “Father is proud of me because I’ve done quite well and got my captaincy, but he doesn’t love me.”

  “I think —”

  “No, honestly. He doesn’t love me because he doesn’t know me. You can’t love somebody you don’t know. They’ve never bothered to get to know any of us. They’ve never made the slightest attempt to understand.”

  This was so true that Nell could find no comforting reply.

  “Funnily enough,” continued Roger thoughtfully. “Funnily enough I never realised this before. It was only when I heard other fellows talking about their parents and saw them getting long letters from home …”

  Nell could imagine it: Roger’s friends opening their bulky letters and reading them with avidity while Roger sat apart, looking at the papers. She could see it happening as if it were happening before her eyes. “Oh, Roger!” she said in a trembling voice.

  “It can’t be helped,” said Roger. “Don’t let’s worry about that. Tell me about Anne.”

  “About — Anne?”

  “What’s happened, Nell? Where is the poor little creature? All I know is that she’s married some fellow that they don’t approve of — Father wrote and told me — but of course I want to know the whole story.”

  “I don’t know anything,” said Nell in a shaky voice. “I don’t know where she is or — or anything.”

  “You don’t know? D’you mean she hasn’t written to you?”

  Nell’s tears were beginning to flow. She could feel them running down her cheeks and taste the salt of them on her lip
s.

  “Don’t cry,” said Roger uncomfortably. He took her hand and held it firmly. His hand was hard and strong.

  “I can’t — help crying,” whispered Nell. “I’ve been — bearing it all alone — for so long. If only we could — find her. If we could — just find her and see — see if she’s happy — and — and has enough money —”

  “I asked them,” said Roger. “I asked them about her after you’d gone up to bed, but they wouldn’t draw.”

  “Oh, Roger, please find her,” sobbed Nell.

  “But how can I? There’s no time to make inquiries — even if I knew how to begin — I’ve got to report for duty on Wednesday and then it’s France. You had better tell me what you do know about her. You must know something.”

  Nell pulled herself together and told him. There was very little to tell.

  “I can’t understand it,” declared Roger in amazement. “The whole thing seems crazy: it seems so unlike Anne … and she must have written to you. Goodness me, you were like Siamese twins! Nobody ever saw one of you without the other. Of course she must have written. The letter must have got lost or something. Perhaps they’ve told her not to write to you.”

  It was somehow comforting to Nell to have her own secret idea confirmed. “Yes, it might be that,” she agreed.

  “What about Aunt Beatrice? She must know Anne’s address.”

  “I wrote and asked her but she didn’t reply.”

  There was a little silence.

  “It seems rather hopeless,” said Roger at last. “I don’t see what we can do except wait. Perhaps she will write to me or — or to somebody else.”

  “She’s been cut off. I expect she thinks we’re all against her — and furious with her. You know how you would feel yourself. If only we could find her and tell her that we still love her —”

  “But I haven’t time to do anything; that’s the trouble.”

  “Perhaps Tom could do something.”

  “Tom wouldn’t have much time either. He’s sent in his name to the Admiralty. It’s a secret, Nell, but you won’t say anything will you?”

  “To the Admiralty!” Nell exclaimed.

  “They’ll take him as a doctor — a surgeon lieutenant commander or something — they want hundreds of young doctors in the Navy. Tom always wanted to go into the Navy, you know. He’ll tell Father when it’s all fixed up; that’s Tom’s idea. There would have been a fuss if he had told Father before.”

  “There will be a fuss!”

  “But by that time it will be too late.” Roger paused and looked at her curiously and then he added, “Amberwell is so quiet — it’s a sort of backwater — you didn’t realise there was a war on, did you?”

  It was true. She had not realised that the world was turning upside down.

  “Poor little kid,” said Roger, pressing her hand gently. “You’ve been having a frightful time — and you’re in for a whole lot more trouble. This war isn’t going to be a picnic. Before we’re through there won’t be any gardeners or housemaids at all. It will be your job to look after Amberwell and keep the wheels turning.”

  Nell gazed at him in astonishment, for she had never been encouraged to take the slightest interest in the house; she was not even allowed to arrange the flowers. “My job!” she exclaimed. “But Roger —”

  “I don’t see who else there is. There’s Connie of course. I thought old Gerald would be sure to join up and Connie would have come home and helped … but apparently Gerald is too valuable to fight, so that’s no use.”

  “They wouldn’t let me help,” declared Nell.

  “My dear lamb!” exclaimed Roger and for the first time there was a real smile in his eyes. “My dear lamb, you still don’t understand. They’ll be mighty glad of your help. I can see you cooking the dinner and sweeping the floors — perhaps even weeding the rose-beds.”

  “But I don’t know how to do anything!”

  “You’ll learn,” said Roger. It sounded like a prophecy — or perhaps a threat. He rose as he spoke and stood looking down at her, a giant in the moonlight. His face was in shadow now.

  “Roger,” said Nell a little breathlessly. “I’m beginning to understand. I’ll try to keep Amberwell in good order — for you.”

  “And I’ll try to keep myself in good order for Amberwell,” returned Roger. He said the words lightly — almost jokingly — but Nell did not feel inclined to smile.

  “I’ll write to you,” Nell said.

  “Yes, do. Tell me everything that happens — all the silly things.”

  Nell nodded.

  “And I’ll write to you. The letters will be for you only. They won’t be the sort of letters to be handed round at breakfast. You understand, don’t you?”

  She understood. “Yes, but it won’t be easy. Mother always reads my letters. She always has.”

  “I’ll address them to the Post Office and you can fetch them yourself. That’s the best way.” He sighed and added, “I’m frightfully tired.”

  “You must go to bed,” Nell told him. “You’ll have all to-morrow. You want to go round Amberwell and see everything, don’t you. Do you want to go alone?”

  “No, with you,” said Roger quickly. “We’ll escape directly after breakfast before they can fix anything else. You’ll come, won’t you?”

  “Yes, of course,” said Nell.

  When he had gone Nell lay awake for a long time trying to tidy up the chaos in her mind. It was not easy. She had always thought of herself as a complete nonentity, unimportant and ineffectual; but now, all of a sudden, she had had heavy responsibilities placed upon her shoulders, and placed there quite confidently. Roger obviously had no doubt at all of her ability to cope. The first responsibility was Roger. He needed her as a confidante, as somebody to whom he could open his mind. That alone gave her a feeling of importance. Then there were her letters to Roger which would tell him all that went on at Amberwell and give him “something to hold on to” when he was far away. She would write regularly. Never again would Roger have to watch other fellows opening their letters and receive none himself.

  The other responsibilities prophesied by Roger would be more arduous but they would come gradually and she would have time to prepare for them. Nell reviewed the household staff: Mrs. Duff would probably remain at Amberwell (she was too old to join any of the services) and the same went for Nannie, but all the others were comparatively young and sooner or later they would all go. The prospect of running Amberwell House with two elderly women — neither of whom had done any real work for years — would have daunted the stoutest heart and Nell was no heroine. Goodness! thought Nell. What on earth shall I do? Well, it’s no use worrying. I must wait and see.

  One thing she could do — and must do immediately — she must prepare herself for the battle by taking cooking lessons from Mrs. Duff. If she could cook a reasonably good meal for herself and her parents she would not feel so helpless.

  3

  “I didn’t know you loved Amberwell like that,” said Nell.

  She and Roger were sitting on the big mossy stone at the edge of the woods and looking down upon the house and gardens. It was a perfect day, the whole place seemed to bask in the mellow Autumn sunshine. The house of Amberwell was deep-seated in its bowl of flowers and trees; the leaves were turning scarlet and gold, the flower gardens were glowing with chrysanthemums and dahlias. Just below them lay the bowling-green surrounded by its dark green hedge. A boy was mowing the grass with a petrol-driven mower; he was walking quickly up and down leaving behind him broad bands of differently-coloured grass, so that the lawn looked for all the world like a striped green ribbon. It was a peaceful scene; so peaceful that it was difficult to believe the greatest war in all history had begun.

  “How do you mean you didn’t know I loved Amberwell like that?” asked Roger after a little pause.

  “It was the way you put your hand on the rock,” explained Nell.

  “Yes,” said Roger smiling at her rather shyly.
“As a matter of fact I’ve always loved Amberwell like that — as if it were alive.”

  Nell looked at his neat fair head with the sun shining on it. She knew what he was thinking: perhaps this was his good-bye to Amberwell.

  “It doesn’t matter at all,” she said, and then she added, “Anne used to feel like that.”

  “What did she say?”

  Nell hesitated, trying to remember. “We were looking at the old chestnut tree in the wood; it was Spring and there were fat sticky buds on the branches. Anne said it was a part of Amberwell, its roots were in Amberwell ground and its leaves breathed Amberwell air. ‘It’s like us,’ I said. Anne didn’t say anything for a few moments and then she said, ‘Yes, but it will die here. People won’t pull it up by its roots and move it somewhere else.’”

  “What on earth did she mean?”

  “I didn’t understand at the time, but I do now. She knew she would have to leave Amberwell some day. That’s what she meant.”

  “But why?” asked Roger in bewilderment. “She needn’t have gone away. Amberwell was her home, just as it’s your home — and mine.”

  “It’s your home,” said Nell, smiling a little.

  Roger was silent for a minute. “You’re thinking I shall marry and turn you out! That’s absolutely ridiculous. Amberwell will always be home for all of us if I have any say in the matter.”

  “Your wife might have something to say.”

  “I shan’t marry,” said Roger soberly. “I know it sounds silly. Fellows who say they’re never going to get married usually meet some fascinating girl and get married within a year, but — well — it’s different in my case. I mean I’ve met the girl I want to marry — and it’s no good. She isn’t for me.”

  “Isn’t for you?”

  He shook his head. “She’s so wonderful,” he said with a little sigh. Then he smiled and added, “Don’t worry, I’m not going to drivel about her, but you take it from me she really is wonderful. Now that I’ve seen her I shall never want to marry anybody else.”