‘This is it, you two,’ she called, wiping her hands. They scampered across, just as Susie entered. ‘Please can I sauté the breasts, Bridie? When is your mam coming back?’
Susie’s da was the blacksmith at Auld Maud. They were having a hard time, although sales of coal seemed to be improving, but not by much. Jeb, the union rep, was being pressured to push for more money by Fred, the rep at Lea End, who was a member of the Communist Party and had just returned from Russia.
Uncle Jack said that the communists’ intention was to knock down, not improve. Bridie tried not to listen to politics any more, because it was such a mess, with everyone shouting about something, and her two cousins making daft decisions, and if her uncle wanted to do something to shut up Fred, why didn’t he push forward with the co-op idea?
‘Bridie?’ repeated Susie, and she brought the pigeon breasts out to the cool cupboard. ‘Please can I do them?
Bridie hushed the dogs, who were jumping up and whining. ‘Sorry, Susie. Yes, you can. You know how after all this time. Mam will be back from Home Farm in about half an hour, so if there’s a problem, she’ll help.’ She checked the clock. ‘Is that the time? Well, no, she’ll be back in five minutes. I must run, I’m needed at the stables.’
Susie called after her, ‘It’s the blind lad today, is it? Daniel Forsyth. Weren’t he at school with us? Grand lad, as I remember.’
‘Aye, he was smacked on his head at the BUF meeting in Hawton last month.’ The words stuck in her throat. She ran up the steps, refusing to think about it, but she had, ever since she’d seen that he was booked in for this afternoon. Was Tim the one who had brought a heavy great chair down on the lad’s head? The police had not brought charges, because no-one was saying anything.
Perhaps Uncle Richard could find work for Daniel. It was what the Neave Wing did. She’d hoped that seeing the result of violence would make James think again about going to Spain. But why would it? Easterleigh had been looking after men who’d been hurt in that way for years, so he knew full well what he was walking into.
She hurried into the stables, calling out to Prancer, who whinnied from his stall. She could hear Clive crooning to him as he brushed the old boy. He stopped and called out, ‘I’ll be taking him across in a minute, lass.’
Clive had been here as long as Bridie could remember. He only had a thumb and forefinger on one hand, and one finger on the other. ‘Damn great pigeon,’ she’d heard him snap at James when he had asked how he’d lost them. But it was the war, of course.
She changed into boots, jodhpurs and a heavy sweater in the privacy of the tack room. Perhaps James had already changed his mind about Spain, because he’d not mentioned it since. Daft beggar – probably just a whim; he was prone to them. She said it aloud. ‘Prone to them, aren’t you, lad?’ It seemed to set it in stone. She tried it for Tim. ‘You’ll come back to us, won’t you, lad?’ The words seemed to bounce about in the air and did no good at all.
Young Stan had promised to help her with Daniel, and Clive would be there, of course. Perhaps David would be at the paddock, watching from his wheelchair, as he was most days. Matron thought he was serious about helping, but Bridie couldn’t really see how that would work. Matron said that he would be invaluable as an emotional support.
This meant, in Matron’s world, ‘You will do this, Bridie.’ She shrugged. She was surrounded by women who never knew when to keep quiet, who thought they knew best. The problem was, they did.
Prancer was no longer in his stall, and she checked the stable clock. She was late again. She took the risk of running across the stable yard. ‘Enough of that,’ bawled Uncle Richard, his voice skidding her to a halt. She heard his laugh as he said, ‘Oh, the power of command. Go on with you, gal. You may run this time.’
She took off again, shouting, ‘Well, come and help us if you’ve a minute.’
She heard his limping gait following her. She slowed, late though she was, and they continued together, leaving the protection of the yards and heading towards the paddock to the right of Neave Wing. As the wind caught them she wished she’d put on a scarf as well. He asked, ‘How are the preparations for Sir Anthony’s dinner going? I gather your mother has left much of it in your capable hands.’
Bridie glanced at him. Was that a criticism? She said calmly, ‘Well, let’s put it this way, Uncle Richard. Yes and no. I’ve had step-by-step instructions and she’s only left me for two hours. She’ll be back any minute, breathing down my neck until it’s cleared away this evening. I’ve let Susie sauté the pigeon breasts, it’s about time.’ Over his laugh she continued, ‘I just don’t understand why he doesn’t entertain them at his Searton Estate?’
‘Ah, in that case, you don’t know our Sir Anthony very well. He is committed, not just to our rehabilitation work, but to the hotel. It is partly his son’s business, after all, and he’d not miss an opportunity to introduce the delights of Easterleigh Hall hotel to yet more of his contacts.’
They were at the paddock now, and Young Stan was walking Prancer round the periphery. When Prancer came alongside Bridie and Richard, he stopped, whinnied, and nuzzled Bridie’s hand. Bridie lifted her face and this time he nuzzled her hair. ‘I love you, you’re such a canny angel,’ she murmured. She watched as Young Stan walked him on.
Uncle Richard said, ‘I don’t know who loves that horse more, you or your father.’
Bridie turned round and leaned back, spreading her arms along the top of the fence. ‘About the same, I reckon. He’s the grandest horse there’s ever been. Uncle Richard, why are all these Peace Clubs sprouting up when no-one’s taking a stand against the Nazis anyway, so they’re not likely to be needed?’
Richard looked to the right. ‘Here’s Matron, with the lad. Look at that scar.’
Bridie said the words before she could stop them, ‘It couldn’t be Tim who did it, could it?’
There was a pause. Richard said, ‘Dangerous ground, Bridie. Let’s not even go there, for how are we to know? Now, why are the Peace Clubs sprouting up? Could be something to do with the alliance Germany made with Italy in October. It’s concentrating minds, making people anxious, and now that their rearmament programme is really under way, not to mention German conscription . . .’
‘It’s a mess, but we need to stand up to bullies,’ Bridie ground out.
Richard said quietly, ‘The world is frequently in turmoil, Bridie, and you’re right. The problem is always when good men do nothing. That is why we must applaud Sir Anthony for doing what he thinks is right, and reaching out for peace. That at least is doing something, though it might not be what you and I would do.’ He studied Prancer, murmuring, almost to himself, ‘But then, we’re doing nothing.’
Matron’s voice reached them. ‘There’s young Bridie, Daniel, who is more trouble than you’d ever imagine, but you can trust her. A few of us do, but only a few. Others have more sense.’
Daniel laughed. Uncle Richard said, ‘That laugh’s not from the heart, young Bridie.’
‘But it will be,’ Bridie whispered to him. ‘I promise you that.’
He shook his head. ‘Like mother, like daughter. Heaven help the world.’
Chapter Nine
At seven p.m. Evie, Bridie and Annie wrenched off their aprons and removed their caps, then smoothed down their dresses before hurrying from the kitchen. They took the stairs up to the green baize door almost at a run, wishing they could just get on with the finishing touches to the meal. Evie said, ‘Susie will do as instructed, she’s a grand lass, but . . .’
Annie laughed quietly. ‘Yes, indeed, but . . . Now is the time to smile and pretend we have nothing better to do, and thank him.’
They slipped into the grand hall, grinning at Ron, who was manning the reception desk with Kevin, then headed to the old billiard room, which was now the private dining room. There were only a few regular guests staying tonight, and they were already assembling in the sitting room for pre-dinner drinks. Bridie hesitated for a moment, but then relaxed. No, no, i
t was alright, Ron would take care of them, and they had simply put Sir Anthony’s menu as à la carte for the guests. Her mam, as always, sensed her panic, and squeezed her arm. ‘All under control, bonny lass.’
‘Aye, mam. I just keep double-checking.’
Annie said, ‘It’s as well, that’s how we keep the mistakes to a minimum. Well done, pet.’
They entered the private dining room, Bridie following behind her mam and Annie. Moira and Polly, the evening waitresses, were circulating with the canapés, while Harry, as a director of the hotel, did the same with dry sherry. Bridie scanned the room, but then Sir Anthony saw them.
He approached, kissing the hand of all three women. ‘My dears, a triumph, as always.’ He gestured around the room and at the flowers that Young Stan and his team of under-gardeners, Edward, Gerald and Gladys, had provided and arranged. ‘And the canapés, Bridie . . .’ He kissed his fingers. ‘Another triumph. Now, come, meet my guests, some of whom you know.’
He led them forward and they followed, feeling like ducklings, ugly ones at that, Bridie thought, as some of the guests clearly wondered what on earth ‘downstairs’ was doing upstairs. Her mother winked at her and Annie grinned, so she put back her shoulders, holding her head high. Sir Anthony made for Lady Margaret, who was talking to Herr Bauer. Bridie was surprised to see Bauer here, but then, it made sense. This was a Peace Club, and Sir Anthony was reaching out.
Lady Margaret was in full flow, almost neighing as they approached, ‘ . . . Franco is such a good man. He’ll sort out the Republicans, and not before time, and your dear Führer, Herr Bauer, will do all he can to help him squash the Reds, won’t he? He’s got the Luftwaffe, and my word, that Goering is such a charmer. A Great War ace, if memory serves me.’ She looked so earnest, leaning forward, her face far too close to Herr Bauer’s. Bridie thought someone should offer her a carrot.
So she’d met Goering then, and the dear Führer, or was she showing off? She was away a great deal, so it was possible.
Herr Bauer stepped back a pace and replied, ‘Sadly, I’m not privy to such information, Lady Margaret. I do not move amongst those in power in Germany.’
‘But dear Sir Anthony probably does, don’t—’ She stopped in mid-sentence when she caught sight of Sir Anthony with the staff. She flushed. Her hand went to the shoulder of her dress. Bridie saw a brooch, though it was more of a badge really, and one that was somehow familiar.
Evie said, ‘How nice to see you again, Lady Margaret. Ver is sorry to miss you but they’re visiting Richard’s parents in Cumbria.’
Bridie and Annie looked solemn, because it was a trip that had been arranged the moment Ver had seen that Lady Margaret had booked in to stay. As she’d made bread she had said, ‘She’s become even more of a bore, such a snob. Do you remember the fuss when you and I fought for the vote for all classes, and she objected, feeling it should be kept for those of a certain social standing, on the basis that only a certain echelon were bred to rule? She’d absolutely love a dictatorship, if she was the dictator.’ As she had spoken, she had pounded the dough to within an inch of its life, and the rest of the staff had roared with laughter.
Lady Margaret’s smile was forced. ‘Indeed. I shall miss catching up on her news. It would have been good for Penny to talk to James, too. Is he also away?’
Bridie replied, ‘No, he’s still at Home Farm, beavering away doing something dirty. It’s only us cooks here this evening.’
Her mother reached around and poked Bridie’s back in a warning. Harry had been passing, and now filled the silence that had fallen. ‘Not just the cooks, if you don’t mind, young Bridie. What about we men? Nothing wrong with a good day’s work, eh?’
Sir Anthony forced a laugh, clearly feeling the conversation was out of control and also still a little uncomfortable with Harry’s choice of wife. It was felt that he would, in his heart, have preferred someone from the same drawer as his family, but had never actually put this into words. He grabbed a glass of sherry off Moira’s tray. Evie and Annie took one too. Bridie obeyed her mother’s frown and did not, feeling a sulk coming on, until she saw the broad smile that Herr Bauer flashed her. ‘Ah,’ he said, ‘never fear, young Bridie. The years pass soon enough. And your uncle, he is well?’
‘Yes, thank you, Herr Bauer. Uncle Jack is very well. I hadn’t realised you were also Sir Anthony’s friend as well as Colonel Potter’s.’
Lady Margaret swung round. ‘Colonel Potter, really?’ Her tone was sharp.
Herr Bauer sipped his champagne, as though he was thinking. He said at last, ‘Ah, I realise why you might think that. We passed a comment or two at your uncle and aunt’s wedding, I believe, while we were looking at the flower bed with the estimable young gardener.’
Bridie thought back. It was later, when she walked across to see how the men were doing, that she had seen Colonel Potter and Herr Bauer deep in conversation as they strolled from the ha-ha towards the house. She started to shake her head, then saw the look in Herr Bauer’s eyes. Was it a warning? Just then, Penny Granville bounded up like a colt, all arms and legs, jogging her mother’s elbow. The sherry slopped. ‘So sorry, Mother, but one of Sir Anthony’s friends has a house in Germany. They would like us to visit. Please say we can. We could ski this time, rather than just shop and attend the theatre.’
Sir Anthony smiled. ‘Ah, Penny, I believe you know Bridie Brampton and her mother, Lord Brampton’s daughter-in-law, and here is my daughter-in-law, Annie Travers.’
Bridie was pleased and surprised that Sir Anthony actually sounded welcoming towards Annie. Could he be starting to value her, at long last? Penny bared her long teeth in a smile. Yes, very much like a colt.
‘Yes, we’ve met.’ That was that, and she was off.
Herr Bauer bowed. ‘Ladies, so delightful to see you again.’ He drifted off. Sir Anthony escorted them on to other groups who clearly had nothing to say to mere staff. Finally, Evie waved Sir Anthony to a halt. ‘If you want to feed the multitude, Sir Anthony, we need to leave you to the canapés, and don our aprons again. Thank you so much for holding your dinner party with us. As always, you support us to the best of your ability, and your ability is very great.’
Sir Anthony smiled. ‘You are a force for good, Evie. You always have been and always will be. I hope that I am able to help for a while yet.’ He looked strange, almost sad. He turned to Annie and seemed about to add something, but the moment passed and he merely touched her arm. ‘My grandsons are well?’
Annie’s surprise was evident. ‘Very, thank you, Sir Anthony.’
‘Now, I must return to my guests.’
The three women left the private dining room. As they moved towards the green baize door, Annie muttered, ‘Do you think he might be unwell? He asked about the boys, who in many ways don’t exist for him.’
She was clearly torn between relief and confusion. Evie said, ‘Perhaps he’s coming round to the idea that you and Harry school them at Easton elementary, not Eton?’ The two women laughed quietly.
Bridie clattered down the stairs behind them. ‘Perhaps he looks at Penny and thinks how lucky he is to have you and not a pony.’
Bridie heard their laughter as they swung into the kitchen, where Susie was lifting the lid on the potatoes. Bridie scanned the table, checking that all the implements were laid out correctly. Evie shook her finger at Bridie. ‘Penny’s a perfectly pleasant young woman. Now, we’ve work to do, but I agree, Annie, Sir Anthony is not quite himself.’
The dinner party for Sir Anthony was much like any other, Moira and Polly reported, except that Tim had arrived. Worse, he had worn black tie when all the others wore lounge suits.
As one course was removed, to be replaced by another, they worked on, and in between they fulfilled orders off the à la carte menu for the other guests, served by Robert and Enid from Easton. At last, as the coffee and cognac were served, and the staff dismissed at Sir Anthony’s request, they sat fanning themselves in the heat of the ovens. Moira and Po
lly headed for their beds in the staff quarters in the renovated attic, Robert and Enid cycled back to Easton, and Annie headed home with Harry to their house in the grounds, looking happy.
Evie eased herself from her stool. ‘I’m heading to my bed too. Don’t be long, Bridie, and don’t forget the accounts for your da from Ron’s study. Make sure you turn your bicycle lamp on the moment you set off, because some of our diners will be driving home, and I want you to be visible.’
Bridie raised her eyebrows as the list of precautions continued to flow from her mother. Maudie popped her head out of the scullery, grinning, ‘Ah, Evie pet, she’s as safe as houses using the back lanes, remember. You can’t get a car down there, even if you wanted to. Mother Hen comes to mind, so it does.’
At that moment the bell rang in the passage. It was the private dining room. Bridie waved her mother home. ‘I’ll go.’
She ran up the stairs, feeling not in the least tired, because her meal had been a success, and she had been given more responsibility than ever before. She skidded across the hall and opened the door into the private dining room. Sir Anthony swung round; a gentleman was standing, speaking, down the far end. He stopped. Sir Anthony rose and came to her. ‘I expect the staff to knock, Bridget.’ His voice surprised her, it was so cold.
‘I’m so sorry, I forgot,’ she replied.
She saw Tim feeling embarrassed for her, but doing nothing to help as he would once have done, and she was glad he stuck out like a sore thumb sitting in his dinner suit. Sir Anthony asked for another bottle of cognac. ‘Knock next time, this is a private meeting.’
‘Yes, Sir Anthony, I’ll send Kevin with it. He will knock.’ She snatched a look at Tim. His dark eyes met hers, which she made sure were full of distaste. On his lapel was a brooch, or was it a badge? It was the same as the one Lady Margaret wore. Now she noticed that many of the diners wore such a one. It was only as she closed the door behind her that she realised what she had seen: it was the Fascist membership badge.
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