Child of Music (Warrender Saga Book 5)

by Mary Burchell

  ‘Stephen thinks a lot of you, doesn’t he?’ Anthea smiled affectionately at her.

  ‘Oh, I don’t know.’ The possibility seemed suddenly almost dangerously sweet, but Felicity repressed any temptation to over-confidence.

  ‘He does,’ Anthea asserted calmly. ‘I heard him say so to Oscar. And I tell you who didn’t like it one little bit. Julia Morton. She gave that cool, disparagingly little laugh of hers, raised her eyebrows and said doubtfully, “Have you all that much confidence in her, Mr. Warrender?”’

  ‘And what,’ asked Felicity with understandable interest, ‘did Mr. Warrender say to that?’

  ‘Oh, he gave her one of those deceptively vague glances which he keeps for people who think they’re pulling wool over his eyes and said, “I don’t have to. I have confidence in Stephen and he makes the staff appointments.” Then he went on talking to Stephen and I think she could have boiled him in oil with pleasure.’

  Felicity laughed, but a little uneasily. She was on the point of asking Anthea if she knew about the impending marriage. But something — perhaps it was Stephen Tarkman’s stinging warning about avoiding gossip — prompted her to silence. If Anthea already knew about it, she evidently regarded the information as confidential. If she did not know, it was not for Felicity to break the confidence made to her.

  She would dearly have liked to discuss the subject which was rapidly — and inexplicably — coming to be of disproportionate interest to her. But the visit ended without the slightest reference to it.

  ‘If you come to London during the season let me know,’ Anthea said as she kissed Felicity good-bye. ‘I don’t want to lose sight of you again. And if you’d like to hear me sing any time, I’ll see you have tickets.’ Warmed by so much friendliness, and the promise of considerable future pleasure, Felicity said good-bye in her turn and went out into the street once more to wait for her bus to Carmalton. Aggravatingly enough, she missed one by a matter of yards and settled down resignedly to a long wait. But she had not been standing at the bus stop more than three or four minutes when a car slid to a standstill beside her and Julia Morton leaned from the open window and said,

  ‘Jump in, Miss Grainger. I’ll give you a lift home. This time I am going your way.’

  It was impossible to refuse without discourtesy. And, in any case, a lift in a car was greatly to be preferred to a wait of indefinite duration. Even a lift from Julia Morton. So Felicity smiled her thanks as agreeably as she could and got into the car. Though she did wonder, as they shot away down the sleepy main street, how she was going to sustain light conversation with Julia Morton all the way to Carmalton.

  She need not have worried, however. The initiative was not left to her. They had hardly drawn clear of the main street before Julia said, as though she had a right to know, ‘How far has this idea of your teaching at Tarkmans gone?’

  Felicity allowed a small pause before her reply, partly from astonishment, but mostly to indicate that this was no business of Julia Morton’s. Then she said briefly, ‘It’s settled, barring a few details.’

  Utterly uncrushed, the other woman asked sharply, ‘Has anything been signed?’

  ‘Signed? What should be signed in a teaching arrangement of this sort?’

  ‘There’s usually a contract, isn’t there? — or at least a contractual letter. If everything has been verbal up to now — ?’ she paused in her turn, as though inviting Felicity to confirm or query that.

  ‘As it happens,’ Felicity said drily, ‘everything has been verbal up to now, but — ’

  ‘Then you could still withdraw?’

  ‘If I wished to. But I don’t wish to, Mrs. Morton,’ Felicity stated coldly and finally. ‘And I find it rather odd that you should speak like this about something which concerns me only.’

  ‘No, not only you. Stephen too.’ The other woman was completely unmoved. ‘And, at the risk’ of your finding this even more odd, I’m going to suggest to you that it would be better if you did withdraw from the arrangement.’

  There was something so single-minded about her determination to press her own point of view that she was almost frightening. And it took quite an effort for Felicity to remind herself that this was not only an impertinent conversation but a slightly ridiculous one.

  ‘Mrs. Morton, I don’t think you can realize how absurd that sounds,’ she said, and she managed to give a cool little laugh. ‘Can you give me one good reason why I should do any such thing?’

  ‘Yes, I can.’ The car had stopped at a crossroads while they waited for the light to change, and she turned and looked full at Felicity. ‘I don’t like you, Miss Grainger. I don’t want you at Tarkmans. And I can be a very dangerous adversary indeed if someone crosses me over anything important.’

  CHAPTER FOUR

  The traffic lights changed, the car shot forward again, and Felicity clenched her teeth against the furious, scornful retort which rose to her lips. There was a slight nervous jerkiness about her companion’s driving, but when Felicity glanced at Julia Morton she could detect no nervousness in her expression. Only a half smiling determination which hardened the line of her mouth.

  ‘Take time for your reply,’ Felicity told herself. ‘Take time.’

  And then, recalling that nothing is more disturbing to a provocative speaker than an indifferent silence, she relaxed in her seat and refused to utter a word.

  In a way it was a trial of strength between them and, during the last few minutes of the drive, Felicity thought she detected a slight crack in the other woman’s monumental self-confidence. At any rate, having glanced sideways in her turn and established beyond doubt that Felicity’s silence was not a crushed one, she finally said, as though driven to seek a different, less satisfactory explanation,

  ‘Well, Miss Grainger, what have you to say to my warning?’

  ‘Absolutely nothing,’ Felicity assured her cheerfully. ‘You say you don’t like me. You don’t have to, you know. Come to that, I don’t much like you. And you say you don’t want me at Tarkmans, to which the only possible reply is that the decision doesn’t rest with you. As for what you regard as a warning — ’ she laughed — ‘I find that rather childish. It’s the kind of thing kids say to each other on the way home from school. I suppose I’ve done it myself in my timeout I’ve outgrown it. Don’t you think you should try to do the same?’

  They had reached the cottage by now, for which Felicity was thankful. For, cool though she had managed to remain, she was curiously shaken really by the strength of dislike which emanated from the woman beside her.

  Julia Morton stopped the car and turned to look full at Felicity. She was still smiling slightly, and all she said was, ‘There was nothing childish about my warning, I assure you.’

  ‘No? Well, thank you for the lift,’ replied Felicity lightly. Then she got out of the car and opened the front gate, and went up the path without even glancing backwards. She heard the car start up again and drive away, and as she did so she suddenly had the clearest recollection of Anthea Warrender saying, ‘She’s dangerous, that woman.’

  Perhaps that was why she was glad to hear Mary call cheerfully from the back of the cottage, and why the day-to-day normality of their pleasant little kitchen was extraordinarily welcoming.

  ‘I thought you’d missed the bus.’ Mary was intent on something which smelled very appetizing as she lifted it from the oven. ‘I saw it go by several minutes ago, and didn’t expect you for another quarter of an hour or so.’

  ‘I got a lift,’ said Felicity slowly. ‘From Mrs. Morton.’

  ‘And — ?’ Mary looked up, suddenly alert and inquiring.

  ‘What do you mean — and?’ Felicity gave a vexed little laugh.

  ‘Well, I see that something disagreeable happened.’

  ‘Does it really show as obviously as that?’ Felicity bit her lip. ‘Well, she warned me off going to Tarkmans. Said she didn’t like me and could be a dangerous woman to oppose.’

  ‘She didn’t!’ Mary
looked incredulous. ‘Does anyone really talk like that outside a bad film? Who does she think she is? I hope you tore a strip off her.’

  ‘I said the dislike was mutual and that my going to Tarkmans didn’t depend on her. I also made fun a little of her actually threatening me and told her she should grow up.’

  ‘Good for you! That should show her,’ declared Mary.

  ‘But you know,’ Felicity said thoughtfully, ‘I don’t think it did. She has a quite terrible singleness of purpose. It’s not unusual to meet people who are principally concerned with themselves, but it’s shattering to meet someone who is totally so. I begin to see why Janet is mesmerized by her. There’s a sort of power in her conviction that she matters more than anyone else.’

  ‘It can’t be quite like that,’ Mary protested. ‘Would an intelligent man like Stephen Tarkman be taken in by such a woman? I know men can be great fools — women too, of course,’ she added broadmindedly. ‘But surely he would see something of what you see, even if he’s infatuated.’

  ‘No.’ Felicity shook her head. ‘He doesn’t see what I see at all. She takes good care of that. And she isn’t only single-minded, she’s a quite marvellous actress too. I can still see her air of affectionate concern when she first spoke to me about Janet — in front of him. You’d have thought she was deeply troubled and concerned about her, and yet she hates that poor kid from the bottom of her heart, if she has one.’

  ‘Suppose,’ said Mary, ‘that you told him, quite calmly and circumstantially, about this ridiculous conversation you’ve just had!’

  ‘Oh, my dear Mary, he wouldn’t believe a word of it! He already thinks I’m prejudiced against her and that I’ve even influenced Mrs. Emlyn. He said as much after Mrs. E. had let slip her candid views about Janet’s aunt.’

  ‘In other words, Mrs. Morton’s word would be taken against yours as a matter of course?’

  ‘I’m afraid so.’

  ‘Then — you aren’t going to like what I’m going to say — but if I were you I don’t think I’d go to Tarkmans.’

  ‘Not go?’ Felicity flushed with the intensity of her feeling and laughed angrily. ‘Nothing on earth would make me refuse now.’

  ‘Other opportunities will come your way, Felicity,’ Mary said. ‘You’re a unique teacher. Does it have to be Tarkmans?’

  ‘Of course it has to be Tarkmans!’ Felicity spoke almost fiercely. ‘It’s the sort of appointment I wouldn’t have even dreamed of on my own. And now Stephen Tarkman himself has offered me the chance. Nothing would make me give it up. Certainly not the hysterical threats of a woman I despise. Why, I love the very idea of teaching there.’

  ‘Only the idea of teaching there?’ Mary’s eyebrows lifted rather humorously.

  ‘Don’t be silly.’ Felicity looked taken aback. ‘That’s the second time you’ve said something of the sort. You think I’m dazzled by Stephen Tarkman, don’t you? That I’m fascinated by him rather than the job.’

  ‘Not exactly — no.’ Mary obviously chose her words with care. ‘I think you’re attracted by him. Who wouldn’t be in the circumstances? He’s handed you your heart’s desire on a silver plate, accompanied no doubt by his most engaging smile. You’d have wanted to accept even if he had been bald and boring. But he’s neither. He’s forceful and attractive. Someone I suppose one would either like or loathe.’

  ‘All right, I like him. I expect to go on liking him. But I’m not proposing to make a fool of myself about him. Is there any special disadvantage in working for a man you both like and admire?’

  ‘There’s this dangerous idiot of a woman — ’

  ‘Oh, her? Felicity laughed angrily. ‘I’m not taking her seriously, and you needn’t either. I’m sorry I even told you about this absurd incident.’

  ‘I’m not. It’s given me a chance to say my little piece, even if it annoys you,’ Mary insisted obstinately. ‘Unlike you I am inclined to take her seriously. She obviously sees you as someone in her path — ’

  ‘She can’t. I’m not in her path,’ Felicity objected impatiently.

  ‘In her view you are. Else why does she want to get rid of you, even to the extent of being rather ridiculous in the way she handles the situation?’

  ‘She resents my support of Janet.’

  ‘Oh, no, Felicity! She may dislike her niece, but she wouldn’t make a major issue of her. She’s afraid Stephen Tarkman thinks too highly of you.’

  ‘Thinks — too highly of me?’ Mingled with the extraordinary stab of pleasure which that gave her came swift recollection of what Anthea Warrender had said. The few words between Stephen Tarkman and her husband, which she had so willingly handed on. ‘Wei — yes, he does think highly of me as a teacher. He told Oscar Warrender so, I understand. But he has to think highly of his staff. Otherwise why should he select them?’

  ‘I doubt if many of them are exceptionally attractive young women,’ Mary retorted with a laugh. ‘But I’m not going to labour the point. I only want to point out that a jealous, utterly self-absorbed woman who thinks you’re in her way wouldn’t stop at much to discredit you. Ordinarily, you would have your own good sense and integrity to protect you. But by your own admission Stephen Tarkman — your employer, whom you like — would unhesitatingly take her word against yours. Very tricky, if you ask me.’

  There was a slight pause. Then Felicity said, ‘You’re dead right, of course. And thanks for the warning. I’ll tread carefully, I promise.’

  ‘You’ll need to,’ Mary told her drily. ‘You’ll need to.’

  *

  And yet during the first few weeks at Tarkmans everything went with unbelievable smoothness. Felicity was nervous at that first afternoon class, naturally. But the children were so very much like her own pupils at Carmalton — only perhaps more alert and inquiring — that she found herself handling them with the same easy warmth and enthusiasm.

  When she took her first evening class with the older students Stephen Tarkman himself came to introduce her. She was impressed by the way he combined an authoritative manner with a relationship of unforced friendliness towards young people. And she was a good deal touched and pleased by the way he spoke of herself. Without being fulsome, he somehow indicated that they were fortunate to have Miss Grainger among them, and in the informal discussion which followed, he gave her several opportunities to show herself in her most likeable and informative light.

  ‘He doesn’t make you feel he could do anything,’ she told Mary afterwards. ‘He makes you feel you could.’

  ‘Perhaps that’s how he’s given Julia Morton the wrong ideas,’ retorted Mary mischievously. But Felicity shook her head and smiled.

  ‘She doesn’t seem to be around much, I’m glad to say.’

  ‘As a matter of interest, exactly where does she live?’ Mary inquired.

  ‘I’m not sure,’ Felicity frowned consideringly. ‘She has a flat in London, I know. I suppose that’s her actual home. But the once or twice I’ve seen her since I went to Tarkmans she’s tended to speak and behave as though she also is an integral part of the place.’

  ‘Does anyone speak about her being engaged to Stephen Tarkman?’

  ‘No. No one has mentioned it,’ Felicity conceded. ‘But perhaps there’s been no formal announcement. And Tarkmans isn’t what you’d call a gossipy sort of place.’

  ‘I wouldn’t call an engagement to Julia Morton a matter of gossip,’ replied Mary with a laugh. I’d call it a disastrous fact.’ But there the discussion ended.

  Preoccupied though Felicity was with her new and exciting assignment, she lost none of her affection for and interest in her Carmalton pupils. And chief among these of course remained Janet. The child seemed to have recovered completely from the setback over the school concert, and once more she both astonished and delighted Felicity by her progress.

  She was, Felicity knew, as good material as any at Tarkmans and better than all but the most advanced. It was maddening to think that the way had been virtually open fo
r her, only to be barred by her aunt’s dislike and spite. With any other child she would already have reopened the subject with Stephen Tarkman. But with Julia Morton’s niece there were such very special difficulties in the way. Each time she felt an opening was about to present itself the recollection of their previous sharp disagreement laid an inhibiting restraint upon her, and she found herself unable to take just the right, impersonal line.

  She reproached herself for cowardice, but could not bring herself to do anything that might cloud her happy relationship with Stephen Tarkman. It was strictly an employer-teacher relationship but, within those limits, an extraordinarily pleasant, even rich, one. He was not given to over-emphasis, but she knew that she was fulfilling all his high hopes of her, and never in her life had she been happier.

  Janet’s interests must wait for just the propitious moment, she told herself. If only there could be some informal, easy opportunity, some occasion when she could bring up the subject quite unemotionally, almost lightly.

  And then, against all expectation or hope, the occasion presented itself. Anthea wrote from London to say that she would be singing towards the end of that month at Covent Garden. The unusual ‘Adriana Lecouvreur’ was being staged more or less for her.

  I’ve always wanted to do it,’ she wrote. ‘It’s musically fine and dramatically a honey — including a gorgeous death scene when I’m poisoned by a jealous rival. Would you like to come? I suppose a Saturday performance would be best for you. There is one on the thirty-first. Oscar tells me that Stephen Tarkman will be coming, so he could give you a lift. I take it you no longer have objections to driving in his car! Anyway, let me know if you would like to come and I’ll see you have a ticket.’

  ‘You’ll go, of course?’ said Mary when Felicity breathlessly read out the letter to her.

  ‘Go? I’d like to see anyone try to stop me! And if Stephen Tarkman really is going too — ‘ She paused, looked more excited than she realized, and then went on more soberly, ‘I’ll have to leave it to him to suggest any question of a lift.’