by Hazel Holt
‘Not Eva! She’s so positive.’
‘Even Eva,’ I said sadly.
Chapter Two
Eva seemed to settle in quite well. She was busy with her committees, and, being a sociable person, made new friends. Rosemary and I saw her often and, since she no longer had relatives living here, I think she looked on Rosemary and me as her real family.
‘She’s taken on too much,’ Rosemary grumbled. ‘People take advantage of her good nature.’
‘They always have done,’ I said. ‘It’s what she’s used to. Anyway, she’s got to fill her time with something.’
‘She could be working on the book. That would keep her occupied.’
‘She will, when she’s ready. Not yet, though.’
‘No, I suppose it’s a bit soon.’ She thought for a moment. ‘Why don’t we all go to the theatre in Bath – there’s always something good on there. Or the Old Vic at Bristol. I’m sure she must be missing the theatre; she used to go all the time.’
‘You could ask her.’
But Eva said she’d love to go sometime but she was a bit busy just at the moment and the most Rosemary could persuade her to was a visit to a garden centre and a cream tea.
‘Leave her alone for a bit,’ I said. ‘I expect she just wants to make a life for herself in Taviscombe. She knows we’re here if she wants us.’
‘I suppose so,’ Rosemary said reluctantly. ‘It’s silly to keep fussing. It’s just that I want to help. After all, she is my cousin …’
After a while Eva had to go up to London. ‘To see Alan’s solicitor,’ she said, ‘and I thought I might spend a little time with Dan, he’s got a spare room in his flat. And there are lots of people I really ought to catch up with, while I’m there.’
I wondered if Eva might have invented the need to go away, far away from the filing cabinets filled with papers, but Rosemary said, ‘I believe Alan left things in a bit of a muddle – not surprising given the way he was always travelling around. I think he intended to sort things out when he retired but, poor soul, he never got around to it. Eva’s all right for money. She earned quite a bit when she was working and she still does the occasional article, but there’s probably some legal stuff she has to do.’
‘Dan might help?’ I suggested.
Rosemary laughed. ‘Oh he’s the last person!’
‘Oh?’
‘Not exactly practical. Lives in a world of his own.’
‘But surely – the job, the TV?’
‘Oh, that’s Patrick. He’s a sort of secretary, nanny, boyfriend, all in one. Dan relies on him for everything.’
‘Goodness, I never knew.’
‘It seems to work out all right and Eva is devoted to him, very grateful for all he does for Dan.’
So Eva went off to London and Rosemary was able to stop fussing over her and concentrate on the demands of her mother who was conducting a war of attrition with the local surgery concerning the alterations they proposed to make to her medication.
‘She’s convinced,’ Rosemary said, sighing heavily, ‘it’s all about saving money and she’s probably right, but Mother doesn’t exactly believe in the Health Service as a national institution, she considers it exists solely for her personal benefit. It was all right when Dr Macdonald was around, he was used to her, but, now he’s retired, it’s difficult. I try not to let her loose on them but you know how she is, and she’s bitterly offended all the receptionists, even the nice sympathetic ones.’
‘Oh dear.’
‘I suppose I’ll have to go and sort things out at the surgery and then try and explain it to Mother!
With Christmas looming on the horizon, plans for various activities were already under way at Brunswick Lodge. This year it seemed that the usual Christmas Fayre was to be supplemented by an auction.
‘An auction would be just the thing. We need to raise enough for a new carpet in the main room,’ Anthea said at the committee meeting. ‘The present one is wearing quite thin in places and I’m sure it constitutes a hazard.’
‘What sort of hazard?’ Derek Forster demanded. Derek takes his position as treasurer very seriously and is engaged in perpetual conflict with Anthea over any expenditure, however small. Something major like a carpet gave him a splendid excuse to impede her in every possible way.
‘It might go into a hole and someone might catch their foot in it. It’s a health and safety issue,’ Anthea concluded grandly.
‘Rubbish!’
‘It’s all very well to say rubbish,’ she countered, ‘but you wouldn’t like to have to pay the compensation.’
‘We’re covered by insurance, as I’m sure you know and, anyway, there isn’t a hole, nor is there likely to be in the foreseeable future.’
‘Anyway,’ Anthea said, deftly changing tack, ‘it looks quite dreadful. It lets the whole place down. I must remind you that, under our tenancy agreement with the council we are obliged to maintain the Lodge in good decorative order.’
‘A carpet isn’t decoration,’ Derek said with elaborate patience.
The whole business might have gone on indefinitely, as it often did, if Matthew Paisley hadn’t interrupted to say he had to go because they had friends coming to dinner and he thought an auction was a good idea, whatever it was for, and should we put it to the vote. So we did and it was passed (only Derek opposing) and we all went home.
Anthea, of course, was in her element organising the auction, Derek having officially washed his hands of the affair, though actually keeping a beady eye on the whole proceedings.
‘Ah, Sheila, just the person,’ she said, unfairly trapping me when I had simply dropped in at Brunswick Lodge to leave a message about a booking for a meeting of the Archaeological Society. ‘I want Michael to go in his Land Rover and pick up a bookcase and a small table from the Shelbys – they’re expecting him on Saturday morning so if he can just give them a ring to let them know what time he’ll be coming.’
‘I don’t know if he’s free on Saturday …’ I began, but Anthea had already turned to greet someone.
‘Sheila, this is Donald Webster,’ Anthea said, indicating a tall, good-looking middle-aged man. ‘He’s recently moved to Taviscombe.’
‘I’ve just retired,’ he said. ‘I used to live in London …’
‘Donald is going to be very useful,’ Anthea said enthusiastically. ‘He’s agreed to take the auction for us. Isn’t that splendid?’
Her victim gave me a slight smile but said nothing.
‘Such a good way to join in things,’ Anthea said, ‘get to know people.’
She moved away to interrupt a conversation between Matthew Paisley and another of the helpers.
‘Did you actually volunteer to do the auction?’ I asked.
Donald Webster laughed. ‘Not in the strict sense of the word,’ he said.
‘You mustn’t let Anthea bully you. She’s absolutely ruthless when it comes to Brunswick Lodge and people who’ve just retired are thin on the ground at the moment. A lot of the volunteers are getting on a bit and don’t have the energy they used to have, so new blood, as it were, is irresistible as far as Anthea is concerned.’
He smiled again, a rather charming smile that went with an easy manner.
‘Actually, she’s right. It is a good way of getting to know people, plunging in at the deep end, you might say.’
‘Do you know anyone in Taviscombe?’ I asked ‘Or have you any connections down here?’
‘We used to come here on holiday a lot when I was a child. My father was a great walker and used to love exploring Exmoor. That was the only reason, really. I had to move about a lot because of my job. I just had a base in London, it was all a bit stressful and when I did retire I didn’t want to stay there. For a while I couldn’t decide where to go and then I remembered how peaceful it was down here – all the open spaces, the moor and the sea … Well I just decided. I saw an advertisement for a rather pleasant house just outside Dunster, came down and looked at it and bough
t it on the spot.’
‘What did your wife say about that!’
‘My wife died some years ago.’
‘Oh, I’m so sorry.’
‘It’s been quite a while.’
‘So have you settled in?’
‘Yes. I’ve always had to travel light so there wasn’t much extraneous stuff – I’m a great one for throwing things away – and the furniture fitted in very well. So I’m quite straight now.’
I thought of Eva’s boxes and considered how different people were – though, in my experience, it is usually men who are the greatest hoarders. I remember my late mother-in-law saying tentatively to Peter, when we had been married for many years, that she’d be grateful if he’d move all his old text books and school reports from the cupboard on the landing of the family home.
‘Well,’ I said, ‘welcome to Brunswick Lodge. But, as I said, don’t let Anthea bully you.’
‘Oh,’ he said, ‘I think I can manage, Anthea.’
‘And I rather think he can,’ I said to Rosemary later on. ‘He has an air of quiet authority, if you know what I mean. Do you know anything about him?’
‘Well, Mother says that her friend Harold Porter says Donald Webster was quite high up in one of the big multinationals. He doesn’t know which one yet, but he’s working on it.’
‘Goodness. He must be very well off.’
‘And a widower,’ Rosemary said. ‘Mother’s already got him married to half the unattached females in Taviscombe.’
‘Oh, I think he’s quite capable of avoiding designing females. He seems very nice and he’s certainly made Anthea happy. Meanwhile I’ve got to break it to Michael that he’s expected to collect that furniture from the Shelbys’ on Saturday.’
Michael said he had a shoot on Saturday and there was no way he was going to cancel that for Anthea, but Thea (who also drove their ancient and ill-tempered Land Rover) said she’d do it if I’d go with her to lend a hand with the furniture.
The Shelbys are a local family who live in a large house just outside Taviscombe on the edge of Exmoor. I didn’t know them particularly well but Michael knows Maurice Shelby who is a fellow solicitor, though his practice is in Taunton.
‘I think this is the turning,’ I said doubtfully. ‘I’ve only ever been here once when they opened the garden for the Red Cross. Yes, that’s right, I remember that farm track on the left.’
Alison Shelby watched anxiously as we lifted the bookcase and table into the Land Rover. ‘Are you sure you can manage? Oh dear, you shouldn’t be doing that. I’m sure it’s too heavy for you. I did hope Maurice would be here, he could have done it, but he had to go into the office – something important, I don’t know what – but, of course, he would have been only too happy … Oh, do be careful, that shelf is slipping! Do let me …’
Finally, much impeded by her help, we got everything loaded up but were then obliged to stay for coffee and more lamentations about Maurice’s absence.
‘I’m exhausted,’ Thea said when we finally got away.
‘She does go on a bit,’ I agreed.
‘When we’ve dumped this lot, come and have lunch. I’ve got to collect Alice at the stables and I know she’s longing to tell you about the gymkhana.’
The auction duly took place and was deemed a great success, even Derek having to admit reluctantly that the sum raised was more than he expected, though still reserving the right to question the use to which it would be put. Anthea was full of praise for Donald Webster, who had, indeed, conducted the whole affair with great competence and flair.
‘Such a valuable addition,’ Anthea said. ‘We simply must have him on the committee.’ And, except for a token protest by Maureen Philips, who always resisted any sort of change, it was unanimously agreed.
‘He seemed pleased to be asked,’ I reported to Rosemary, ‘though I get the feeling that he finds the whole thing highly amusing, which is quite refreshing.’
‘He’s moved his account down here to Jack’s firm,’ Rosemary said. ‘He said he didn’t want to be back and forth to London all the time. I get the impression he really wants to put down roots here. He seems nice. Jack’s asked him to dinner next week so I’ll let you know what I think.’
But before then she rang me. ‘Well, he’s made a conquest of Mother!’
‘No! How?’
‘You know she was going to the optician on Wednesday – you remember the fuss she made about those new glasses – well, Mr Melhuish finished earlier than I expected so she was sitting there waiting for me to collect her. Not in the best of moods, as you can imagine. Anyway, Donald Webster came in and, while he was waiting for his appointment, he made polite conversation with her. Well, that’s not exactly true, he submitted to her usual rigorous cross-examination – you know what she’s like with newcomers and Harold only covered the bare details – with enormous good humour and the upshot of it is he’s going to tea with her next Monday!’
‘Good heavens!’
‘I know. When I took her home she was full of it – such an interesting man, a thorough gentleman, such good manners, so rare nowadays – all that. Fussing about whether Elsie should make her special shortbread as well as her coffee and walnut cake. I thought I might be required to be on duty but she seems to want to keep him all to herself. But I’ve got strict instructions about what flowers to get and how to arrange them when I go there in the morning – in case there are any more instructions, I imagine.’
‘Oh well, if your mother’s taken to him he’s made for life in Taviscombe. I long to know how it all goes, and, then, if he’s coming to you for dinner …’
‘About that, I wondered if you’d come too. To make up numbers and you’ve met him at Brunswick Lodge so you’d be a familiar face.’
‘I’d love to.’
Rosemary reported that Mrs Dudley remained enchanted with Donald Webster after the tea party. ‘So, unless he offends her in some tremendous way, which seems unlikely, he’ll be in her good books for life. You know she never will admit that she’s been wrong about anyone.’
On the evening of the dinner party I found I was taking extra trouble deciding what to wear and how my hair looked. It’s always interesting to meet someone new in Taviscombe, I told myself, and I was curious to find out more about someone who had, obviously, had such an unusual and interesting life. But although Donald (as we were now to call him), with his easy manner and fund of fascinating stories about his experiences all over the world, was the perfect dinner party guest, I found I knew no more about him as a person than I had known before. I was just left with my original impression that, in the nicest possible way, he found Taviscombe and its inhabitants a source of quiet amusement.
Chapter Three
Eva came back from London in good spirits.
‘I had a lovely time. Dear Patrick organised a surprise party – all my old friends. I really enjoyed it. And I went to a few exhibitions and a couple of theatres – oh, and Dan took me to the opening of a new restaurant. Such a peculiar place, everything was black and white, probably the food as well, but the lighting was so low you couldn’t really tell.’
‘I bet Dan had fun with that,’ I said.
‘He said it provided a useful theme for his review.’
I laughed. ‘I’m so glad you had a good time.’
‘I hope it hasn’t unsettled you,’ Rosemary said. ‘Taviscombe will seem very dull after all that.’
‘No, actually, I’m quite glad to be back. It was lovely, of course, a nice treat. It was fine when Alan was alive, but it’s not the sort of life I’d want to have now. So, come on, tell me what’s been going on while I was away.’
The Christmas concert is generally considered to be one of the high spots in the Brunswick Lodge calendar. People read poems or extracts from Christmassy books and we sing carols – all rather old-fashioned, I suppose, but everyone seems to enjoy it. This year it ended with Donald Webster reading the Henry Williamson account of the Christmas truce in the Firs
t World War, followed by Pauline Jacobs playing ‘Silent Night’ on her recorder. It was very moving and, as the final notes died away, there was a long silence, before applause broke out and people crowded around Donald and Pauline in congratulation.
‘That was beautiful,’ Eva said. ‘Who was that doing the reading?’
‘Oh, that was Donald Webster—’ Rosemary began, when Anthea, who was passing, broke in to give her usual panegyric on her latest favourite.
‘Such an asset – nothing too much trouble – such a wide experience – of everything!’
‘Goodness,’ Eva said when Anthea had passed on to chivvy Maureen who was in charge of the refreshments. ‘She really is keen. Is he such a paragon?’
‘All the social graces,’ Rosemary said. ‘He’s even captivated Mother.’
‘No! I must meet this amazing man!’
But a little while later, Donald came up to her, carrying a plate.
‘Have a mince pie. I don’t recommend the ones on the right which, I’ve been told, are a little heavy. Wholemeal flour, apparently. No? I don’t blame you, one can have too many mince pies. Actually, this was an excuse to have a word with you.’
Eva smiled. ‘Really?’
‘No, seriously, I wanted to tell you how much I admired your late husband. Shall we sit down?’
They moved away and I lost track of the conversation, but Eva told us later that Donald had met Alan – somewhere in South America, she didn’t remember where – and they had spent some time together and had got on very well.
‘Apparently there’d been some kind of trouble,’ she said, ‘something to do with a drugs raid and they’d been in quite a tight corner and Alan had got them out of it. He was full of praise for Alan’s coolness and the clever way he managed it all.’ Her face was alight with pleasure. ‘It’s such a treat to hear something new about Alan that I’ve never heard before!’
‘He never told you? I’d have thought something like that …’
