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Foxden Hotel (The Dudley Sisters Saga Book 5)

Page 10

by Madalyn Morgan


  The tractor turned off the road onto a narrow lane leading to a farm. Ena glanced in the mirror again. The bus had arrived and Maeve was boarding. With the tractor gone the traffic started to move quickly. Ena put her foot down and was soon out of the village, slowing only when she approached a bend - and there were plenty of bends along the Market Harborough to Lowarth road.

  Ena flew into the hotel by the kitchen door. ‘Look out, here comes a whirlwind,’ someone shouted as she ran through. She dashed into the cloakroom and looked in the mirror. She looked fine, there was no need to delay by combing her hair. She smoothed her skirt over her hips with the palms of her hands and pulled on the hem of her jacket. Then she walked calmly across the marble hall to reception nodding and smiling at guests who she assumed had just come back from one of Frank’s excursions, and were waiting for the keys to their rooms. Ena acknowledged Jack, Maeve’s male counterpart and, unable to wait a second longer to tell Bess that she had seen Maeve with a child, she burst into the office. ‘Claire?’

  ‘Auntie Ena!’ Aimee called, running across the room to Ena who immediately dropped onto one knee to welcome her niece.

  ‘Good gracious, but you’ve grown,’ Ena said, holding Aimee at arm’s length before hugging her. ‘What a lovely surprise it is to see you.’

  ‘Daddy has gone to Canada on an aeroplane,’ Aimee told her solemnly.

  ‘Oh my goodness,’ said Ena, taking hold of her niece’s hand as she led her to the window seat where Claire and Bess were sitting. ‘When was this?’ she asked, directing the question at Claire.

  ‘Yesterday. He’s there for a week this time.’

  ‘Daddy said we might be going to live there.’

  ‘Oh?’ Ena said. ‘Would you like that, do you think?’

  Rocking from side to side the little girl looked under her eyelashes at her mother.

  ‘It’s all a bit up in the air,’ Claire said. ‘Mitch didn’t tell me the military were sending him to Canada this week until we were driving home at Easter, let alone him wanting to live there.’

  ‘You don’t sound keen.’ Then, aware that Aimee was listening to every word, Ena said, ‘I’m sure you won’t be away for long, if you do decide to go. Right, Aimee? How about you and I go and find Uncle Frank and ask him if we can see old Donnie the pony?’

  Aimee clapped her hands. ‘Yes please!’ she shouted, and was at the door before Ena had time to ask Claire if it was okay to take her.

  Thank you, Claire mouthed. ‘See you later?’

  ‘Where do I start?’ Claire said, when she and Bess were on their own. ‘Mitch has changed. He isn’t the husband and father he used to be. It’s as if he’s two people. One minute he’s caring and loving, the next he’s shouting and angry.’

  ‘He hasn’t hurt you, has he?’ Bess asked.

  ‘No.’ Claire shook her head. ‘He would never do anything to hurt us - at least not physically. It’s hard to explain. For much of the time he’s normal and loving - my Mitch - and then he changes and he’s cold and distant. He goes from being elated to being almost morose, in a second.’

  Absentmindedly Claire twisted her wedding ring round and round on her finger. ‘When he has these… mood swings, he changes so much I hardly recognise him. He isn’t the man I fell in love with, Bess, or the man I married.’

  ‘You’ve never spoken about your time in France, when you and Mitch first met and fell in love.’

  ‘We met before we were sent to France.’ A smile spread across Claire’s face and her pale blue eyes sparkled as if she was seeing Mitch for the first time. ‘We clashed at first. I don’t think Mitch liked me very much. And I certainly didn’t like him.’ She laughed despite herself. ‘We were opposites, which was probably part of the attraction, but we respected each other.’ Claire blew out her cheeks. ‘He made me jump through hoops when we were training to go overseas. But I wasn’t going to let him beat me. The harder he drove me the harder I worked. I got it into my head that it was because he didn’t like me that he worked me so hard. But I was wrong. He made me work because he did like me. I think he was a little in love with me even then. But whether he liked me or not was irrelevant. Mitch knew the work we’d be doing in France was dangerous and difficult - and if I was going to survive, I needed to be both physically and mentally strong. And thank God he did push me. I don’t think I’d be here today if he hadn’t.’

  Shocked by what her younger sister was telling her, Bess caught her breath.

  ‘When we parachuted into France we were met by the sons of our friend, Edith Belland. They were part of the Resistance movement.’ Claire looked out of the window, her eyes full of sorrow, as if the memory of that time was too much to endure. ‘Mitch and I saw things that were so terrible, so inhumane, and--’ Falling silent she shook her head as if she was trying to shake the awful memories from her mind. ‘You see, when we were first in France - after the initial meeting with the Resistance - we only had each other. There was danger around every corner. We could have been caught, or killed, at any moment. We lived on our wits, and our emotions. For the most part our emotions had to be stifled, which only intensified the feelings we had for each other.

  ‘Our assignments with the Resistance were dangerous. While we worked with the cell we ate, drank and slept the job. The problem was, after each mission we had no way of letting off steam, no way of getting rid of our excess energy, or of blocking out what we had done and seen. Then, one night, Mitch and I were hiding from a German patrol in a hay loft. We’d seen them earlier, drunk and bragging about the girls they’d brought to the farm, so we stayed hidden in case they came back.

  ‘It was a freezing night. I couldn’t stop shivering. I’m not sure whether it was with fear or from the cold. Anyway, Mitch put his arms around me and we huddled together to keep warm. It was that night that the inevitable happened. Against the rules of the SOE, we gave in to our needs and made love.

  ‘As time went on, more and more Germans flooded into Gisoir, the town where we lived, and life became even more dangerous.’

  Claire could no longer hold back her tears. ‘I’ll never forget the day Mitch was arrested by the Gestapo. I had to stand in the crowd and watch them beat him before they dragged him off to Gestapo Headquarters. I wanted to go to his defence, but Madame Belland’s youngest son stopped me - and thank God he did. If the German’s had arrested me and tortured me, I’m not sure I’d have been brave enough to withstand it. It was only the fear of putting the lives of every Resistance member in Gisoir in danger - and the members of several other cells that I’d worked with - that stopped me.’

  ‘What did you do?’ Bess asked.

  ‘Nothing. There wasn’t anything I could do.’ Claire wiped her tears. ‘No one knew Mitch and I were in love, so I buried my feelings deep inside and got on with the job I’d gone there to do.’

  ‘Good Lord, Claire, I knew you were doing dangerous work, from the letters your friend Eddie forwarded to me, but I knew nothing of this! And you had to endure it on your own.’

  ‘Edith Belland, who I lodged with, knew I loved Mitch. She was like a mother to me. I wouldn’t have got through the following years without her.’

  ‘And all that time, Mitch was in a prisoner of war camp?’

  ‘Yes. And he won’t talk about it.’

  ‘Do you remember, when we were little, Mam used to tell us to be quiet because Dad was having one of his turns? She used to say he’d been ill since he was invalided out of the Great War at the beginning of 1918.’

  ‘And we assumed it was because of the wound in his knee, where he’d been shot, that was making him grumpy.’

  ‘But it wasn’t that at all,’ Bess said. ‘Dad had shellshock.’

  ‘Overly protective one day and almost uncaring the next?’ Bess nodded. ‘For years Dad had awful mood swings,’ Claire said. ‘Like Mitch, normal one minute and angry the next - and for no reason.’

  Bess took hold of Claire’s hand. ‘It sounds to me as if Mitch has shellshock
.’

  CHAPTER NINE.

  Hand in hand, Ena and Aimee left the hotel by the back door. No sooner had they reached the cobbled courtyard, they saw Frank coming out of the stables. Aimee let go of Ena’s hand and ran to him. Putting on a look of surprise, Frank bent down and swept Aimee off her feet, swinging her round as if she was an aeroplane. When he put her down she shouted for more, and Frank picked her up again.

  ‘You are a pushover, Frank Donnelly.’ Ena called to him.

  ‘I know,’ he said, putting Aimee down and pretending to be out of breath.

  Aimee put up her hand and Frank took hold of it. ‘What now?’ he said, as the child began pulling him towards the stables.

  ‘Please can I see Donnie the pony?’

  ‘I’ve just put him to bed,’ Frank said. Ena saw the smile on Aimee’s face disappear and her bottom lip begin to quiver. ‘Of course you can sweetheart. He won’t have settled yet.’ As Aimee skipped off ahead of him, Frank turned to Ena and winked.

  Waving, Ena watched her brother-in-law and niece make their way to the stables.

  ‘Aimee has her uncle wrapped around her little finger, doesn’t she?’ Maeve said, suddenly at Ena’s elbow.

  ‘She certainly does. The poor chap was coming in after bedding down the pony, but Aimee wanted to see it, so he’s gone back with her.’

  ‘At Aimee’s age children are lovely,’ Maeve sighed.

  ‘Especially little girls, don’t you think?’ Ena hoped her response would lead Maeve to talk about the child she saw her with in Kirby Marlow. It didn’t.

  They walked into the hotel together. Ena said, ‘Do you have any children, Maeve?’

  ‘No. When I was young I hoped that one day, if I found Mr Right, I would marry and have a family, but it wasn’t to be. Do you want children, Mrs Green?’

  ‘Yes, one day. Henry’s older than me, so I expect it ought to be sooner rather than later.’ Ena caught Maeve glancing at her sideways. ‘I know the man’s age doesn’t make a lot of difference - to a woman conceiving, I mean, but Henry said he wants to be young enough to kick a football about on Sunday mornings.’

  ‘It’s going to be a boy then?’

  Leaning back, Ena feigned a look of surprise. ‘Of course, Henry has a plan. What about you? Girl or boy when you find Mr Right?’

  ‘Boy. The world is too cruel to girls.’

  This was the opportunity Ena had been waiting for. She would ask Maeve why she thought the world was cruel to girls, which would lead her into asking about the little girl she saw her with in Kirby Marlow. But when she turned, Ena saw such a depth of sadness in Maeve’s eyes that her voice faltered, and she could only think to say, ‘I’d like a girl.’

  ‘One of you will be happy then.’ Maeve opened the door of the staff cloakroom. ‘If you’ll excuse me, Mrs Green, I must hang up my coat and tidy my hair before I start work.’

  ‘Yes, of course. I’ll see you later.’ Feeling guilty that she had awoken some deep rooted sadness in Maeve, Ena blurted out, ‘I’m sorry.’ The receptionist looked back at her. She had tears in her eyes. ‘If I said something that upset you.’

  ‘You didn’t Mrs Green. I’m just a little tired. My niece hasn’t been well.’

  ‘Your niece?’ Ena repeated, as she felt the heat of embarrassment develop in her cheeks.

  ‘Yes. The child you saw me with earlier. Today was her first day back at school after being off with a summer cold. I thought she looked pale and was worried that I may have sent her back too soon. Was there anything else?’

  ‘No. Except, if you ever want to talk, you know where I am.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Maeve turned and went into the cloakroom, closing the door firmly behind her. Ena’s smile changed to a worried frown. There was something not right. She could feel it, sense that Maeve was deeply unhappy. But there was nothing she could do to help unless Maeve opened up to her - and Ena didn’t think she would do that.

  ‘Henry?’ Ena called, as her husband entered the hotel. They walked towards each other, meeting in the middle of the marble hall. ‘How did you get on at the Vicarage?’

  Henry looked around. ‘Come into the office, I’ll tell Bess and Frank at the same time.’

  ‘Claire’s in there with Bess. She was near to tears earlier, so I expect Bess is giving her sisterly advice - and Frank’s showing Aimee the animals.’

  ‘Oh well, what I found out can wait. It isn’t that important.’

  ‘What I found out is,’ Ena said. At that moment, Maeve appeared from the direction of the cloakroom. ‘I know you’re a married man,’ Ena whispered, ‘but would you like to come up to my room?’

  Henry laughed. ‘Are you inviting me to your room for a secret assignation?’

  ‘Perhaps,’ Ena teased. She caught her husband by the hand and led him upstairs.

  There were two single beds in Ena’s room, Henry sat on one and Ena on the other, facing him. ‘Right,’ she said, ‘what did you find out at the vicarage?’

  ‘That Maeve O’Leary is staying there. The vicar’s wife told me that Maeve was billeted at the Vicarage during the war and they had become good friends.’

  ‘What did she do in the war?’

  ‘Communications.’ Ena knew from experience how all-embracing that word had been during the war. ‘The vicar’s wife said the facility where Maeve worked was just outside the village, and she had visited them regularly since the war ended.’

  ‘Do you think she worked for one of the subsidiaries of Bletchley Park?’

  ‘I don’t know. Thousands of people all over the country worked in communications. It was the standard job description for any secret work. And there wasn’t only Bletchley, there were other facilities. I’ll try and find out more.’

  ‘Why? I mean, why does it matter if Maeve worked in communications during the war?’ Ena took a sharp breath. ‘You don’t think she’s a spy, do you?’

  ‘No…’

  ‘What then?’

  ‘I told you I had to cover David Sutherland’s funeral.’

  ‘Yes, and you saw Bess there. So?’

  ‘I saw Miss O’Leary there too.’

  ‘What? Maeve was at Sutherland’s funeral? Have you told Bess?’

  Henry shook his head. ‘No. And I’d rather you didn’t. I mentioned the funeral to the vicar’s wife. I said it was a sad affair when someone dies and there were so few mourners in the church. She said, if it hadn’t been for herself, Miss O’Leary and old Dolly Hinson, two women who worshiped at St. Peter’s, Mr Sutherland wouldn’t have had anyone at all to bear witness to his passing.’

  ‘He had Sir Gerald and Katherine Hawksley.’

  ‘Did you talk to Katherine Hawksley today?’

  ‘No. Her father was there. They left almost immediately I arrived, so I didn’t get the chance. I do have something to tell you. Though it isn’t as surprising as Maeve going to David Sutherland’s funeral.’

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘Maeve has a niece.’

  Ena waited for her husband to react, but he only said, ‘Nothing unusual in that.’

  ‘I suppose not, except all the time she’s worked here she has never mentioned a niece. Who’s to say the child isn’t hers. If she’d had her in the war and there wasn’t a father in the picture, the vicar and his wife could be bringing her up. That would be a good reason for Maeve to visit Kirby Marlow regularly, don’t you think?’

  ‘It would.’ Henry got up and sat next to his wife. ‘And if that is the case, it is none of our business. Leave the poor woman to get on with her life,’ Henry said, kissing Ena.

  ‘Shall we go down and tell Bess, or…?’ Giggling, Ena laid back on the bed and stretched.

  Henry checked his watch. ‘There’s plenty of time,’ he said, laying down next to her.

  Maeve wasn’t on reception when Ena and Henry went down for tea. The office door stood open so Ena called, ‘Coo-ee?’ and they entered.

  Maeve was bending down talking to Aimee, or rather listening w
hile Aimee told her and Bess about the pony and the pigs - and how she had looked for eggs with Uncle Frank. ‘Tea time is the wrong time of the day,’ Aimee explained, with the authority of a seven-year-old going on forty. ‘I shall have to get up early in the morning if I want to collect the eggs.’

  Maeve stood up and acknowledged Ena and Henry with a smile. ‘I had better get back to my post,’ she said, and left the room.

  ‘Maeve has a niece,’ Bess said, with surprise in her voice. ‘Her name is Nancy and she’s going to bring her over to play with Aimee. So, because Aimee won’t be here on her actual birthday, she’s going to be like a fairy queen and have two birthdays, aren’t you darling?’ Aimee nodded. ‘I thought, as there are a couple of children in the hotel this week, we’d have a tea party. We’ve decided on Thursday afternoon, after school, so Nancy can come. What do you think?’ Bess looked from Ena to Henry.

  ‘I think it’s a lovely idea,’ Ena said, ‘don’t you, Henry?’ Aimee squealed and clapped her hands before Henry had time to answer.

  ‘That’s settled then. I think you should send out some invitations, Aimee,’ Bess said. ‘Why not write to Nancy first, then her aunt can take it home with her when she finishes work today.’

  Aimee ran over to the seat beneath the window to where she had left her paper and pencils. ‘I shall draw Nancy a birthday cake,’ she announced.

  Bess savoured every minute of the hour she had off on Saturdays. When the hotel’s guests who were leaving had vacated their rooms, which was any time between breakfast and eleven, the cleaners and chamber maids went in to prepare the rooms for new guests who were booked in from twelve.

  Bess strolled around what was left of the old Foxden Estate: the park, the walled garden, and the lake. This morning because Aimee was with her it was, as always, the lake first to see the ducks.

  The sun’s reflection on the still water looked like silver silk. ‘Don’t go near the edge, Aimee,’ Bess called to the excited child.

 

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