by Nicola Slade
‘Not at all, Christabel. Addy is an excellent antidote to having to exchange insincere civilities with my brother-in-law.’
I gave up. Miss Evershed had clearly taken Addy’s measure and needed no protection. In truth I suspected that they were two of a kind and as I watched she glanced round the gloomy room and set off, Addy in tow and camera at the ready to ingratiate herself with the patients. Sure enough, our lodger avoided her own egregious brother-in-law, not that Major Larking minded as Miss Peebles, looking surprisingly cheerful for a jilted bride, had come to rest at his side and was gazing at him in rapt admiration. I looked for her mother and saw that Mrs Peebles, although talking nineteen to the dozen to the portly major who must be her husband the manufacturer, was closely watching her daughter. She summoned me with a beaming smile.
‘Do you know that officer, dear?’
The daughter had clearly inherited her mother’s single-mindedness and I hid a grin as I recounted the little I knew.
‘An Honourable, you say, dear?’
‘The younger son of a baron,’ I told her, remembering Miss Evershed’s remarks. ‘His wife insisted they must live in Winchester to be near their sons who are at school there. I believe they rented a house with the intention of buying somewhere, but of course she died last year.’
‘He has no permanent home in Hampshire? I wonder – Bromsgrove is very select, you know,’ Mrs Peebles murmured. ‘You say he’s a widower in comfortable circumstances?’
She thought it over and thanked me, turning to her husband to ask, no doubt, for his own thoughts on his fellow officer. Could this be a means of escape for the talented schoolmistress? Surely her predicament would vanish if Pamela Peebles were to become the Hon. Mrs Larking the second. Besides, darling Mrs Peebles would be charmed to have two young step-grandsons to fuss over.
I wandered casually over to where Miss Evershed was engaged in a laborious one-sided conversation with the mute Captain Halliday who was leaning on his crutch. She must have noticed that he was alone and was gamely trying to catch his interest and draw him into the company. After addressing the usual topics: the weather, the progress of the war, the difficulties encountered when travelling by train, a brief foray into the history of Groom Hall, she tried geography.
‘I was brought up in Oxford,’ she said brightly. ‘Do you know it? I teach now in High Wycombe, so convenient for long tramps across the Chilterns. So pretty…’
Captain Halliday lit another cigarette and said nothing, of course, and daunted, Miss Evershed looked downcast until, rather desperately, she ventured on a description of her own school days.
‘My parents wished me to become fluent in languages,’ she said. ‘I studied for a year near Nantes; have you ever been to France, Captain Halliday?’
Her victim stared at her, adjusting his tinted spectacles and she pursed her lips. ‘Ah, of course.’ She struggled on, making a valiant effort in the face of his indifference, though perhaps it was incomprehension. ‘I later taught for two years at a school in Cambridge at the beginning of the war but my most treasured memories are of the year I spent in Germany after I left Oxford. Such a pity, don’t you agree, Captain?’ she ventured. ‘The way in which the Germans, who so recently were our friends, are now our enemies. It may be an unpopular viewpoint but I have only the happiest memories of my time at Frau König’s school in Hannoversch Münden.
‘You won’t have heard of it but it was the prettiest little town imaginable, in Lower Saxony. Quite a fairy-tale place, all half-timbered buildings and situated at the confluence of the two rivers that form the River Weser. I remember being invited to a party at the home of the local Graf and Gräfin, a delightful couple.’ She sighed, with a nostalgic shake of her head. ‘Happy days, but I suppose the young army cadets with whom I danced ten years ago, would now be quite senior officers, if indeed, they have not been killed. Such a dreadful waste of young lives, on both sides.’
‘Really, Miss… er…’ Matron thrust herself into the conversation. ‘Did I hear you extolling the virtues of the Hun? I do not tolerate such treasonable sentiments in this hospital. Now, Captain Halliday, I see you are looking quite disturbed and no wonder…’ She spoke loudly and slowly and the poor mute officer shrank away from her. She ignored that and carried on as though he were deaf. ‘You must sit down quietly and I will bring you a nice cup of tea.’
As she gave him a little shove in the right direction she cast a disgusted glance at our startled lodger and said, ‘Tchah!’
‘Did he look disturbed?’ Henry Makepeace was at my side, holding out a plate of heavy-looking slabs of fruit cake, not a patch on what we make, I might add. ‘I see he’s escaped to safety in the group around Major Larking. Rather him than me.’
‘He was fidgeting a bit,’ I murmured. ‘That’s not surprising, he’s probably like Matron and won’t listen to anything good about the Germans.’ I bit my lip and wondered whether I had upset Henry, who also had no reason to love the enemy.
‘Don’t be silly, Christy,’ he said, showing that he had understood. ‘I quite like Miss Evershed from what little I’ve seen of her, but it’s clear that she can’t help but go into lecturing mode and even Addy has wandered off to take some more photographs. I expect the poor fellow was simply bored, but it was nice of her to make an effort at conversation. He must be lonely. We do our best to include him but it’s hard to tell how much he understands and he spends most of his time smoking by himself.’
I suspected that Matron’s criticism had nettled Miss Evershed because she turned aside and walked over to stare balefully out of the window. Meanwhile I wandered round the hall and tried to look as though I found the paintings fascinating. It was impossible to avoid hearing the horrid Major Larking as he addressed a trio of his fellow patients, with the silent Captain Halliday hovering on the periphery of the group. There was an ugly marble pillar nearby so I hid behind it, dithering how to escape. Now and then his loud voice would sink to a half-growl at which point he would pat Miss Peebles on the hand while he looked round to make sure Matron was nowhere in sight.
Mrs Peebles, however, was suddenly beside her daughter.
‘Come, Pamela, we should have a kind word for all the other gallant gentlemen at Groom Hall,’ she said firmly. ‘And your Papa wishes to talk to you.’ She nodded to the officers and whisked her daughter to the other side of the room.
Major Larking watched them thoughtfully, paying close attention to the large diamonds that sparkled on Mrs Peebles’s plump fingers, before he turned back to his fellows who had by now moved on to discussing their experiences in France. After a few minutes he broke into their conversation.
His black brows drew together as he shook his head. ‘Here’s a thing… my late wife’s uncle had a place in Leicestershire, y’know. The old fellow was a tartar, and I was only there the once, back in November ’14, when his daughter’s engagement was announced. Jessie, m’wife, had stayed there a lot but we were just back from India so it was my first and last visit.
‘Good God, the to-do there was!’ He lowered his voice and his audience leaned in to hear. ‘Of all things, the poor girl’s fiancé, a major in the Grenadiers, was caught in flagrante delicto with a young senior subaltern! We were staying from Saturday to Monday so of course we heard all about it the next morning, though they tried to hush it up. A bloody mess; the boy was not long out of Sandhurst and from a prominent local family – thick as thieves with m’wife and her sister, and the rest of them. The major shot himself before dawn the next day.’
‘By Jove, I believe I heard about that at the time,’ said one of the other officers. ‘Bad business, don’t you know. What happened to the sub?’
‘What you’d expect.’ Major Larking’s voice was dismissive. ‘Rich as Croesus, well-known family, so it was all hushed up but when the chance came the feller was sent up against the guns all right. I never heard the details but it was dealt with. Dirty business altogether...’
I was shocked by what I heard and
was just thinking how horrible he was and how sorry I felt for Miss Evershed when the Major spotted her as she abandoned the view and tried to slink past unnoticed.
‘Whoa there, Judy,’ he hailed her with a loud bray, baring his large teeth as Miss Peebles, who had escaped her mother, made her way back to his side. ‘This charming young lady has never been to Winchester, I find. What do you say to playing chaperone if I hire some sort of conveyance and we go on a sight-seeing trip? The cathedral is fine and so is the ruined palace and I daresay we could find a bite of luncheon somewhere. What do you say, old girl, hey?’
As he spoke the Peebleses, mother and father – presumably refreshed by a hasty cup of tea – sauntered casually towards the window and paused beside the gentlemen at the sound of their daughter’s name.
Miss Pamela simpered. Her mother beamed in approval. Her father nodded politely and moved on to another group, taking his wife with him. Addy, who had finished up the film in Henry’s camera, wandered out of the library on a hunt for something to eat, and scowled. I continued to lurk nosily behind the fat-bellied marble pillar, and Judith Evershed looked appalled.
‘I think not, Reginald,’ she answered with a brusque shake of her head. ‘I am quite sure Miss Peebles will find a much more congenial chaperone in her own mother.’
‘Damn it, Judy,’ the major snapped. ‘Can’t you for once in your life do as you’re told?’
As she opened her mouth to reply, he went on,. ‘When you come to keep house for me you’ll mind your Ps and Qs, by God, or I’ll know the reason why.’
‘Such language, Reginald.’ Miss Evershed looked down her nose at him and his face reddened in anger. ‘I’ll leave you to recover your temper. Good day, gentlemen. Miss Peebles.’
Miss Evershed turned on her heel and did not see the Major clench his fist and glare furiously at her retreating figure, but I did, and what is more, so did Pamela Peebles. She looked away when she caught me watching the scene but I saw her calculate the odds. It was most surprising but I clearly watched her weigh a tetchy husband in the balance against no husband at all. I saw her plump for a respectable match with a close connection to a title that should wipe out her earlier humiliation, then she edged closer to her wounded hero and fluttered girlishly at him to bring him out of his sulks.
Well, good luck to her, I thought philosophically. She’s as strong-minded as her mother though with little of her charm, so I expect she’ll bring him under her thumb in no time. Mind you, I believe I would rather be a spinster than sacrifice myself like that. More to the point, however, surely Pamela’s interest must alter Miss Evershed’s prospects? Major Larking was now treating Miss Peebles to a fine display of large white teeth, a handsome, bristling black moustache, and a glimpse of his tonsils as he laughed uproariously at his own utterances. Who could blame him if he saw more future in the sole heiress of a rich manufacturer as a wife, than in a clever and resentful schoolmarm as an angry and reluctant housekeeper.
I remembered, with a slight qualm, that Major Larking had been awake and out of bed at around the time Lt Trevelyan stopped screaming. As had the bleakly silent Capt Halliday. Alix was the other side of the room now, but even if she had been beside me, we could hardly have discussed my uneasy feelings about Monday’s sad death.
I caught up with Miss Evershed who had regained some of her composure and I was about to suggest another cup of tea when Matron pushed in between us.
‘Miss Christabel?’ Her nose was in the air as she ignored Miss Evershed but I received an approving smile. This puzzled me until she said, relishing the title, ‘I believe Lady Elspeth is ready to leave and is looking for you. Such an honour to meet the Earl and Countess of Inverboyne’s daughter. She spoke so graciously as she admired our arrangements here. Perhaps I might venture to take tea with her ladyship in the near future?’
Her simper outdid that of Pamela Peebles and I gulped at the prospect of Granny having to entertain such a fervent devotee. I smiled weakly and she took this for assent, sniffing loudly as she pushed past Miss Evershed once more.
‘Oh dear,’ said that lady, who had regained control over her temper. ‘I seem to have made an enemy. You know, I’m sure I’ve encountered Matron before, but I can’t remember where. Never mind.’ She made a face, laughing. ‘She and Major Larking can discuss my failings at length.’
I was aware of eyes boring into us and looked up to see Miss Peebles glaring jealously.
‘Yet another, I see. Oh well, she can join them,’ said the object of their dislike. ‘Sticks and stones may break my bones but words can never hurt me.’
The next day her remark came back to me with a vengeance and how I wished that she had not said such a thing. Words didn’t harm her directly, it is true, but there are plenty of other ways to hurt someone. Potentially fatal ways…
Chapter Eight
After an hour we were dying to go home, or at least Granny, Addy and I were. Mother was deep in a magazine that carried a detailed description of Edinburgh Society during the time of the Young Pretender. I guessed the next heroine of romance from Mabel de Rochforde would be a noble Jacobite lady who would fall hopelessly in love with Bonnie Prince Charlie. A Highland laird would eventually, of course, replace the Prince in her affections so I made a mental note to fish out the volumes of Scott that we had tucked away somewhere. They would come in useful for topographical descriptions and anything else Mother could glean. I also guessed that the magazine she was poring over would find its way back to Sandringham Lodge. Mother is quite ruthless about stealing research material for her novels.
‘I’m taking Mother and Granny home,’ I murmured to Henry. ‘Addy will come with us but Alix says she’ll walk down with Miss Evershed when the party is over. The other ladies will leave then too. I’ll just say thank you to Matron. How did you find your cousins? Is it all agreed?’
‘I have to go through my paces with Dr Pemberton after breakfast tomorrow and then I’ve been invited to a working lunch with Cousin Edgar at the County Club, near the Priory. He wants to show me the office and talk to me about the work I’ll be doing if I join him. He hasn’t said anything definite yet but I liked him very much so, if he gives me a chance I’ll accept with gratitude,’ Henry explained. ‘I’m excused my afternoon rest tomorrow so I’ll call in on the way back to the Hall later on, if you don’t mind?’
‘What’s that?’ Addy’s sharp ears had overheard and she stared at him, bright-eyed. ‘Does that mean we can keep you, Henry?’
‘Like a stray dog, do you mean?’ He held out his hand for the Kodak. ‘I’ll get the film developed for you at the chemist’s in the Square – Seymour’s, isn’t it?’ he said with a nod to her.
Addy and I ran down the hill leaving Granny to steer Mother in the right direction at a statelier pace. Today’s dinner was a fricassée of the chicken that Bobs had liberated from its anonymous owner. Eked out with onions and mushrooms it would be a simple meal to prepare. While Addy weighed out the rice I put the finishing touches to a couple of bread-and-butter puddings and slipped them into the oven.
There was a ring at the front door.
‘I’ll go,’ Addy said and I heard her exclaim as she opened, then shut the door.
‘Nobody there,’ she said. ‘This was on the doorstep.’ She held out an official-looking letter addressed to Mother. We stared at it, then at each other, and I reached for a knife to slit it open. Better to keep our (hopefully) sole remaining parent in the dark for as long as possible.
‘Damn Papa!’
‘Such language from a young lady,’ Addy smirked and I smiled reluctantly, looking over my shoulder to see if Granny was back. She is very strict about bad language.
‘It’s from a London lawyer, requiring us to hand over the stolen property of Mr Mervyn G Welter. A representative of the firm will call next week and we must comply with this order – or face prosecution!’
Addy looked over my shoulder. ‘What shall we do?’
‘It’s sabre rattling,’
I declared stoutly, taking a deep breath. ‘The man is trying to frighten us.’ I ignored the fact that he was doing a very good job. ‘We’ll take no notice and see what happens. If we have any more visitations we’ll have to go to the police.’
‘How exciting,’ exclaimed my sister. ‘I’ll come too and ask whether they’ll let me examine any corpses they have in the morgue.’
‘Of course,’ I said solemnly, not laughing until she disappeared into the kitchen. The smile was wiped from my face because I felt more and more anxious about this business of Papa.
‘Alix.’ I caught her on the bottom stair when she came home and was on her way to her attic to change. ‘Does it ever occur to you that Addy might be slightly odd?’
‘Really? You mean odder than Grandpapa who spent every waking hour among the
Cathars of mediaeval France and hadn’t the slightest idea who we were?’
I had to smile and she continued with a giggle. ‘Or Mother, whose personality leaps with dizzying speed and precious little warning between a humourless bluestocking and a poor man’s Elinor Glyn? Mercifully without the accompanying scandal.’
She warmed to the subject. ‘What about Papa who played so many parts he was quite unable to discern truth from fiction?’ She bit her lip and our eyes met anxiously. ‘And may still be doing so? It must be distinctly odd to tread the tightrope between right and wrong, particularly when he didn’t so much fall, as leap, so many times.’
Her eyes danced. ‘And don’t forget when Addy turned outlaw.’
‘I had forgotten!’ I laughed with her. ‘Mother’s face when Addy turned up with half-a-dozen local boys and announced that she was Maid Marion and they were her Merry Men.’
That episode had ended in tears, with Granny knocking on doors to explain to aggrieved householders that the outlaw band had only stolen apples to feed the poor. Sadly, the poor didn’t want them. They were particularly sour cooking apples so we ended up eating apple pies for a week.
