by Sara Seale
“Oh, Kate! If it wasn’t so wet and dirty, I’d fall on my knees and kiss the ground like what’s-his-name,” she cried as she was clasped in a warm embrace, then grew pink with embarrassment. “Oh, how awful! I’ve never called you that before, and now you’re my employer! It was just that I was so pleased to see you that I didn’t think.”
“Well, please go on forgetting,” Kate replied, her brown eyes twinkling. “I hope we’re going to be friends rather than mistress and mother’s help, for which neither of us are very well fitted. Come along now—we’ve got a fair drive ahead of us and it’s a stinking day.”
It was, indeed, a most unpleasant day, but to Victoria, repeatedly rubbing a clear spot in the condensation on the passenger window and peering out at familiar surroundings, it seemed only right that the weather should be traditional on her return to her native land.
“How did you work it? Did you blackmail old Mr. Chappie? Did you even, perhaps, get into the Presence and do a spot of persuasion on Mr. Brown?” she asked among other less relevant questions, and Kate laughed.
“No, I did not get into the Presence—it didn’t occur to me to try,” she replied. “As it happens, Chappie, Chappie & Ponsonby handled my affairs when my husband died, so I wasn’t unknown to them.”
Kate turned her attention again to the countryside. New estates and factory sites seemed to have encroached still further on green fields and commons, but gradually these were left behind and the car took a sudden plunge down a steep, winding hill into the narrow lanes and wooded pockets of the Sussex Weald. Every so often a gap in the trees would reveal an unbroken vista of rolling country, but the line of downs lying beyond was hidden in a misty curtain of rain. Another hill was climbed, twisting sharply through the trees, and at the top Kate turned the car into a rough, puddle-pitted lane which ended at a pair of white gates standing open to the long, mellow walls of an old farmhouse.
Even in the rainy bleakness of a March afternoon, Farthings offered a welcome and a sense of homecoming and Victoria fell in love with it on sight. Kate gave her no time to stand and stare, however, but hustled her in out of the wet, and there was Timmy clutching her round the legs with the remembered tenacity, though this time his fervour found expression in piercing squeals of delight.
“You’ve come for always, haven’t you, Toria? Elpet said it was just to visit, but it isn’t, is it?” he said as she hugged him in return.
“Now, young man, don’t plague the young leddy as soon as she’s set foot through the door,” said a big, capable-looking woman hurrying to relieve them of their luggage. “Losh me, Mrs. Allen, don’t you go out in the wet again. Sam will fetch in the rest of your traps and put the car away, too.”
“Very well,” Kate smiled. “Victoria, this is my dear Elspeth of whom you’ve often heard me speak. She manages the house and us with equal impartiality. I expect she’ll manage you, too, if you don’t make a stand from the start. Elspeth, this is Miss Hayes who is going to take Timmy off your hands for a bit and think up fresh uses for magic for me when I run out of plots.”
“How do you do?” Victoria said, disentangling herself from Timmy and holding out a hand.
Elspeth took it after an instant’s deliberation and Victoria, watching the woman’s shrewd grey eyes travelling over her face, knew that she was being silently appraised.
“We’re pleased to welcome you here to Farthings, miss,” she said politely, but there was reserve behind the pleasant burr of her native Scotland and Victoria knew that Elspeth would accept her only when she had formed her own assessment.
“Well,” said Kate, hoping that her old servant would not extend her past distrust of the au pair girls to Victoria, “I expect you’d like to see your room and freshen up generally, after which we’ll have our well-earned tea. I know Elspeth was making a batch of her special griddle scones in your honour, so come along and I’ll show you the lie of the land.”
Very soon it seemed to Victoria that she had known Farthings all her life, or perhaps, as Kate pointed out, it was simply her first real experience of home.
Mr. Brown was forgotten for days on end in the pleasure of fresh discoveries. She loved the old rambling house with its many passages and hidden stairways and rooms opening invitingly one upon another. Elspeth grumbled at the inconvenience when it came to carrying coals and trays, but she kept the, place spotless with only the help of a daily girl from the village and a youth who periodically dug the garden and cleaned the car, and would allow no one but herself to wax and polish the rather fine period pieces which graced many of the rooms. It was a long time before Victoria realised that the contents of the house which seemed so much to reflect Kate’s tastes belonged to her no more than the house itself.
“Took the whole lot furnished at a nominal rent for these times and no strings attached,” Elspeth told her. “It was a merciful dispensation at the time of her trouble, for poor Mr. Allen left very little money and the bairn needed special care and quiet, born as he was. Aye, there’s some good folks in this world yet.”
Victoria remembered that Kate had said she leased Farthings from a cousin for as long as she might need it. She must be a very nice and devoted cousin, Victoria thought, to offer her home for an indefinite period, unless for some reason she had never cared for it herself.
“Yes,” she said, “that was generous of the cousin, but perhaps she’s old, or maybe lives abroad?”
Elspeth paused in her attentions to a piecrust table long enough to favour Victoria with a look of amused surprise, then fell to again with renewed vigour.
“Neither old nor female, and as far as I know has no thoughts of settling abroad,” she retorted.
“Oh, I see. I suppose I took the sex for granted because this house has a sort of family feeling, if you know what I mean.”
“Aye, I ken what you mean, but the leddy didn’t share your views, it seems.”
“What lady?” Elspeth so often had the trick of presupposing you could follow her line of thought.
“The leddy who should have come here as a bride, of course. The poor gentleman couldna be expected to fancy the place on his own, so Mrs. Allen keeps it warm for him. Now will you leave me to get on with my redding, Miss Toria? The bairn won’t hurt in the woods this fine morn, but mind that weak leg of his on rough ground.” Victoria could hear Kate tapping away on her typewriter as she passed the study on her way to the nursery, and wondered vaguely what sort of person the male cousin might be; elderly, one might suppose, and contemplating a second marriage, since Farthings and its contents had all the familiar hallmarks of a previous home. The nameless lady of his choice must have been hard to please if she could resist the charms of such a place, Victoria reflected, then felt a rather guilty sense of thankfulness for the timely misfortune of another.
March had slipped into April. The banks were starred with primroses and the woods with the first leafy freshness of spring and in the little orchard the tight pink buds on the apple trees were ready to burst into blossom.
One morning when Victoria was helping Elspeth in the kitchen, they heard a car stop at the gates, followed by Timmy’s delighted squeals of recognition.
“Now, who would that be just when lunch is ready to go on the table?” Elspeth exclaimed with annoyance. “If it’s a body dropping in expecting a meal there’ll no be enough to go round. The butcher brought three chops the mom instead of the wee joint I ordered.”
“It’s probably Dr. Squires fitting us in between Calls,” Victoria said. Kate had few visitors, but the doctor frequently dropped in to keep a professional eye on Timmy, although Victoria suspected that he had rather more than a passing regard for Kate.
“Aye, very likely. Well, he’ll be no trouble. Bread and cheese and a dram is all he’ll have time for, no doubt. Run and tell Mrs. Allen, she’ll not be taking any heed if she’s stuck in the middle of a chapter.”
But Kate was already hurrying across the hall, holding out welcoming hands with much less restraint than
she accorded the doctor, and the tall man who stepped over the threshold with Timmy tugging violently at his trouser leg took her hands in his and kissed her affectionately.
“Rob!” she cried with surprised delight as he released her. “Why on earth didn’t you let me know? It’s been such an age that I thought you must have forgotten us.”
“That's blatant fishing, as well you know,” he replied. “I’ve been snowed under lately or I’d have cadged a weekend before now. Can you do with me at such short notice? I hadn’t time to do more than fling a few things together and hop into the car.”
“Of course we can do with you. Your old room’s always ready and we only have to make up the bed. Timmy, for goodness’ sake stop tugging at Uncle Rob’s trousers—there won’t be any crease left!” Kate laughed, then became aware of Victoria waiting a little uncertainly to be introduced. “Oh, I’m forgetting my manners in the unexpectedness of the moment. This is Timmy’s Toria who has nearly cut you out, so you’ll have to be very tactful if you want to share his affections.”
Victoria came forward to shake hands. There had been something vaguely familiar about the stranger’s voice, hut the light had been behind him so that his features were indistinct. When he turned to acknowledge the introduction however, and she encountered a pair of cool, appraising eyes under hair that was dark when it should have been grey, she experienced an unwelcome shock of recognition. When she had last seen him he had been grey, the grey of a wig pushed carelessly back from his forehead matching the grey of his cold, fastidious regard. The memories of that bewildering day in court had faded like the recollections of a nightmare, but Mr. Robert Farmer had never been forgotten and, for a moment, old impressions renewed themselves so vividly that she found herself stammering when she responded with conventional greetings and knew the colour had risen in her cheeks.
He shook hands, making some mock-rueful reference to Timmy’s vacillating affections, but there was no recognition in his eyes and after a moment of incurious attention he turned back to Kate with whom he was clearly on excellent terms.
“Darling, run and tell Elspeth that my cousin is here, will you?” Kate said to Victoria. “She’ll be very angry with you, Robert, for not giving her a chance to provide your favourite lunch, but I expect you’ll get round her as you always do. Now come along into the parlour for a glass of sherry and tell me all you’ve been doing since last we met.”
Victoria thought it tactful to leave them to themselves until luncheon was ready and stayed in the kitchen admiring the resource with which Elspeth contrived to make a substantial meal from the meagre rations of the butcher’s chops. All the time she chattered reminiscently about Mr. Rab, who was plainly a favourite, and Victoria learnt with growing surprise that he was the self-same cousin from whom Kate rented the house.
“Then it was Mr. Farmer’s bride who wouldn’t live here, was it?” she asked.
“Aye. A fashionable besom with a taste for parties and fine clothes, so I’m told. She ran off with one of those pop singers and divorced him within the year, it’s said.”
“Oh!” said Victoria, wondering how much the jilted Mr. Farmer had minded. “Has he married someone else?”
“If he had, Mrs. Allen would hardly be living here, would she?” Elspeth retorted with a certain asperity. “I’d like to think—still, it’s no my business, nor yet yours, so I’ll be obliged if you’ll carry in the vegetables for me, Miss Toria, and then tell them lunch is ready.”
By the time she sat down with them at table, Victoria had recovered her self-possession, rather enjoying the knowledge that she had the advantage of Mr. Robert Farmer in the matter of acquaintance. It was hardly surprising, of course, that he had failed to recognise an unremarkable schoolgirl who, save for provoking him to a fine display of fireworks, could have made little impression as an individual out of the scores of witnesses which must be his daily lot. She had to admit that off duty he possessed a degree of easy charm which found a ready response in Kate and, remembering Elspeth’s unfinished remark in the kitchen, wondered if there might be more to a benevolent concession in the matter of his house than cousinly kindness.
“You’ve been exceptionally silent, darling,” Kate observed as they left the dining-room, “still, I’m afraid we’ve rather been holding the floor. You and Robert must get acquainted, for you’ll be seeing plenty of each other if we can persuade him to come down more often. You can’t think, Rob, how nice it is to have a man about the house again.”
“Has the good doctor given up calling, then?” he asked with a faint twinkle, and she made a face at him.
“Certainly not. He’s most attentive to Timmy’s needs,” she replied primly. “But poor Victoria has little chance to show off the finished results of her expensive education. There aren’t many eligible young men in these parts and if there were her rather stuffy guardians would probably disapprove.”
“Guardians?”
“One, to be precise, and he isn’t really a guardian at all. Victoria, take Robert round the garden and tell him about your mysterious Mr. Brown while I finish correcting those proofs. I really must try to get them off by the afternoon post.”
Victoria, not relishing the prospect of a tete-a-tete with the stranger until she had decided on her line of conduct, made hurried excuses, but Kate said nonsense to all of them and went away to her study, and Victoria, catching Mr. Robert Farmer’s eye resting upon her with somewhat sardonic amusement, knew that he was fully aware of her reluctance and rather enjoying himself.
“Are you shy, Timmy’s Toria?” he enquired a little mockingly, and now that they were alone together, her old antagonism revived.
“Certainly not,” she replied, endeavouring to sound cool and assured. “At my Paris establishment we were taught that it was impolite to appear gauche whatever our provocation.”
“Very proper, but weren’t you taught that it was also impolite to leave a guest to his own devices?”
“Of course, but you’re Kate’s guest, not mine, and since you’re related and this house is yours, I didn’t suppose that you needed entertaining.”
“Touché. Still, if I were to ask you very politely if you would be so kind as to take me round the garden, perhaps you would stifle your disinclination and oblige?”
“Certainly, Mr. Farmer, if that’s what you want,” she said at once. “We’ll find Timmy and take him with us.”
“I’ve always understood that Timmy rested at this hour, but perhaps you’ve instituted a new regime,” he said, and Victoria could have kicked herself. She had quite genuinely forgotten that Timmy would not be available for another hour, but in saying the first thing that came into her head, she could only have confirmed whatever he was probably thinking.
“Of course, I’d forgotten. We have so few visitors here, you see, that your sudden arrival has rather thrown out our routine.” It was a feeble enough explanation and had a distinctly governessy flavour, she thought crossly, then saw him grin with a most unexpected touch of mischief and found herself grinning back.
“That’s better,” he said, taking her by the arm and piloting her out into the garden. “You shouldn’t try conclusions with me on such short acquaintance, you know. I have quite a reputation for dealing firmly with evasive witnesses.”
“So I believe,” she replied rather tartly. “It must be very uplifting to the ego to browbeat witnesses who can’t answer back.”
“Oh, but some of them do, and I only browbeat the stubborn ones. Tell me about your mysterious Mr. Brown. Is he an admirer?”
Victoria was not given to inventing fantasies to boost her own consequence, but Robert Farmer seemed to have the knack of making her feel a child again. It would do him no harm to keep him guessing.
“Mr. Brown ...” she repeated musingly. “Now, there’s a man who thoroughly understands the romantic approach.”
“By being mysterious?”
“That and other things.”
“What other things?”
“You’re very inquisitive, aren’t you, Mr. Farmer, considering we’ve only just met.”
They were strolling through the little orchard which bounded the neat approach to Farthings. Here nature had been left to run wild and the grass was already ankle deep. The fruit trees were long past bearing, but they still put forth blossom and Victoria paused now to reach up to a low-hanging branch and shake the last of the petals about her. Robert stood and watched her with obliging attention, thinking that she was probably quite aware of the charming picture she presented, then she laughed as a shower of dew fell on her upturned face and opened her mouth like a child to catch the drops.
“Very pretty,” he observed with a certain dryness. “No doubt the romantic Mr. Brown would immediately respond in the appropriate manner were he here to observe.” She looked at him with a moment’s surprised enquiry as if she had temporarily forgotten him, then she let the branch spring back with a final shower of dew and blossom and stood trying to shake the petals out of her long hair.
“Allow me,” Robert said, and neatly removed those that clung more tenaciously.
“I never said he was romantic,” she protested while she stood passively under his ministrations.
“No? Well, I certainly thought that was implied. A man who thoroughly understands the romantic approach should have all the right answers. Is he romantic-looking too, this paragon?”
