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Foxden Hotel (The Dudley Sisters Saga Book 5)

Page 11

by Madalyn Morgan


  Bess kicked off her shoes, picked them up by their heels and ran across the peacock lawn, catching up with Aimee on the north side of the lake. She sat down on the grass and stretched out her legs. Aimee ran to her, sat down next to her and did the same. Looking at Bess’s feet, and then her own, she began to take off her sandals. ‘Where are the ducks?’ the little girl asked, undoing the buckles.

  ‘They must be in the rushes on the other side of the lake,’ Bess said. ‘Don’t take your shoes off, Aimee. The grass is long over there, you might step on a thistle or a stinging nettle.’

  Aimee frowned. She opened her mouth, but before she had time to argue that if Bess was barefoot, why couldn’t she be, Bess slipped her feet back into her shoes. Checking the leather straps across Aimee’s instep to make sure each was safely caught in the pin of the buckle, she stood up. ‘Ready?’

  Strolling round the lake with Aimee reminded Bess of the Land Girls that she had worked with during the war. In the winter, as soon as the lake froze, they would be skating on it. Three of them were accomplished skaters and when the village children came up to Foxden to skate on the lake, they acted as lifeguards. Bess smiled remembering the fun they’d had.

  She had worked and lived with the Land Girls for five years; it was no wonder that they had become like sisters. She looked across at the grazing meadow on the other side of the drive leading down to the River Swift. It had once yielded root vegetables and beyond that there had been fields of wheat and corn.

  Turning Foxden’s fields and meadows into arable land had been hard work. The women were up before dawn to start work as soon as it was light and rarely, if ever, did they finish until dusk - and often in appalling conditions. From potato picking and digging up vegetables in torrential rain, breaking the ice on water troughs for the livestock in the outer meadows in winter, to getting burned in the mid-day sun and being stung by all manner of flying creatures at harvest time - they never complained.

  Bess, suddenly aware that Aimee was calling her, looked to where the child was standing. Riveted to the spot, her back as straight as a poker, with an expression on her face that was somewhere between excitement and terror, Aimee stood in the middle of a family of ducks. Bess approached slowly so she didn’t frighten the two adult ducks who were protectively leading their family of downy ducklings around the little girl to the lake.

  When they were in the water Bess saw Aimee gasp for breath. ‘Did you see them, Auntie Bess?’ she said, panting. ‘Did you see the baby ducks? They came right up to me. I shall tell Uncle Frank when I get back to the hotel. I bet he won’t believe they came that close.’

  Bess crouched down to Aimee’s height and together they watched the raft of ducks gliding effortlessly across the water. ‘Come on, let’s see if we can get to the other side of the lake before they do.’ Aimee skipped on ahead, turning every now and again to make sure her aunt was keeping up.

  When Bess passed the spot where David Sutherland had drowned she looked away. She was determined not to let one bad memory spoil the many good ones she’d had over the last ten years, first at Foxden Hall and now at the Foxden Hotel. Despite the tragedy of a man losing his life, Bess smiled remembering how she used to walk her horse Sable round the lake and trot her through the woods before riding her at a gallop down to the River Swift.

  Before the war, Lord and Lady Foxden who lived at the Hall, bred horses. In 1939, when the grooms and boys were called up and the horses were taken to Lord Foxden’s estate in Suffolk, the Foxden Estate was farmed. Since then, some of Foxden’s land had been leased to the tenant farmers, but most had been sold off to finance the Hall’s transformation from stately home to hotel. Only the private grounds remained: The lawns around the lake, the small wood that bordered Shaft Hill, the parkland and the old walled garden which, during the war had been a kitchen garden, but had been restored to a picturesque flower garden with rose arbours and benches, where the hotel’s guests could sit and relax.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Dressed for her party in a pink dress with a darker pink ribbon tied in a bow at the back, smocking on the bodice and a Peter Pan collar, Aimee sat in the old nursery waiting for her guests.

  There was a small room off the nursery which had once served as a temporary bedroom where the nanny of the children who lived at Foxden Hall slept when they were ill. The rocking chair and single cot which Nanny slept in had been replaced by a table and two chairs, but apart from a lick of paint, toys and games for older children, as well as young ones, the room looked the same.

  Brothers Matthew and Archie, who were staying in the hotel, were first to arrive. They gave Aimee a birthday present, which Claire suggested Aimee open when they had had their tea. Maeve and Nancy came later, after school. They went through to the small room off the nursery, where Nancy took off her school clothes - a burgundy blazer and grey dress - and put on a blue cotton shift with a white sailor collar. Replacing her school sandals with black patent ballerina shoes that had a bow on the front. Maeve combed Nancy’s hair, adding a blue bow held in place by a Kirby grip.

  Nancy gave Aimee a gift, which Aimee put with the others she’d received, and then took Nancy by the hand as if she had known her all her life. Bess and Maeve watched as the girls circled the boys. ‘Safety in numbers,’ Bess whispered to Maeve, when Aimee introduced Nancy to Matthew and Archie.

  Watching the children playing with dolls and toy soldiers, trains and motorcars, Maeve commented on how Aimee and Nancy had hit it off. ‘I was worried that Nancy would sit on the sidelines and watch the other children having fun,’ Maeve said. ‘She has spent most of her life with grown-ups. First my mother, and then Reverend and Mrs Sykes. Don’t get me wrong, my mother worships Nancy, and the Reverend and his wife are lovely people. I don’t know what Nancy and I would have done without them, but they are quiet folk. Kind, and generous to a fault, but they’re of the older generation. And because they haven’t had children of their own, Mrs Sykes is over-protective and the Reverend is very strict. Between them they don’t allow Nancy much freedom to express herself.’

  ‘Not like Aimee, you mean, who can be loud when she’s excited?’

  Maeve laughed. ‘That wasn’t what I meant, but yes, I would love to see Nancy jump about and get excited - and shout occasionally like Aimee. Nancy’s shy and not usually comfortable around children she doesn’t know, but she has really taken to Aimee.’

  ‘For better or worse, Aimee is a Dudley. And we Dudley girls have never been shy.’

  ‘Perhaps some of Aimee’s confidence will rub off on Nancy.’

  ‘She has plenty of confidence, does our Aimee,’ Frank said, suddenly standing behind the two women.

  ‘Now Mr Donnelly is here, I’ll go down,’ Maeve said.

  ‘You don’t have to leave because I’ve turned up,’ Frank joked. ‘I’ll go on reception. It’s time I did some work today.’ He winked at Bess.

  ‘Thank you, but I’d rather keep to my hours. Be a good girl, Nancy,’ Maeve called, but her niece was watching the boys dismantle a wooden-block railway engine and didn’t hear her.

  ‘She’ll be fine. I’ll be down shortly. I’ll leave Frank up here with the children while I get the birthday tea sorted. There’s cake and sugar mice. Tempted?’

  ‘Yummy,’ Maeve said, and left the old nursery laughing.

  Bess watched Maeve walk along the landing to the staff stairs. Strange, she thought, but she had never seen Maeve laugh before. Bess liked Maeve. She felt lucky that when she was looking for a receptionist, someone as experienced in the hotel business as Maeve was looking for a job. Not only did she work hard, she was good with people. She was always polite and patient, even with the most demanding guests - and she used her initiative.

  Bess’s attention returned to the nursery when she heard the words, ‘Have you got a poorly eye?’ Frank was sitting between the two girls trying to mend a doll whose arm had come out of its socket. He was used to being asked about his eye. Because it was glass it didn’t mov
e like his own eye, which was often a source of curiosity when he met a child for the first time.

  ‘It was poorly,’ Aimee informed Nancy, ‘but it’s better now, isn’t it Uncle Frank?’ Aimee scrabbled to her feet, put her hands on Frank’s shoulders and kissed him on the cheek.

  ‘Thank you, Aimee,’ Frank said. When his niece sat down again and had finished wriggling to make herself comfortable, Frank turned to Nancy. She was still looking at his eye. ‘It’s a special eye,’ Frank explained. ‘It was made for me by a clever doctor. I’m very lucky,’ he said.

  ‘Why?’ Nancy asked.

  ‘Because no one in Foxden, Lowarth, or even Kirby Marlow, has an eye like mine.’

  Nancy got to her feet, bent down, and kissed Frank on the cheek as Aimee had done. Then she stroked the fading scar that was still visible on his left temple. ‘Better now, Uncle Frank?’

  ‘Yes, thank you, Nancy. Now,’ he said, tears threatening to fall from his good eye, ‘let’s make this doll’s arm better.’

  Leaving the two girls dominating Frank’s time and the boys, Archie and Matthew or was it Matthew and Archie - they looked so alike she couldn’t tell - playing with the train, Bess went down to the kitchen to finish Aimee’s birthday fare.

  She took four trays from the kitchen cupboard. One for the birthday cake, one for plates of egg and cress, corned beef, and cheese sandwiches. One was needed for the sponge fancies and fairy cakes, and the last for the pink and white sugar mice, nibbling pineapple flavoured boiled sweets that pretended to be chunks of cheese. ‘That’s it!’ she said aloud. She was miles away when she heard someone say, ‘Need a hand?’

  ‘Margot? You made it.’

  Margot helped herself to a quarter-square of cheese sandwich. ‘What can I do to help?’

  ‘Stop eating the food,’ Bess said.

  ‘You’ve made so much, no one’s going to miss a couple of…’ Margot leant forward to pick up another square and Bess tapped her on the hand with a spoon.

  ‘Blimey, you are tight, our Bess. Cruel too. How could you deny your little nephew or niece a teeny-weenie piece of bread?’

  Bess laughed. ‘Put your bottom lip away, sister, and let me check we have everything.’ Holding up her fingers, Bess said, ‘Six adults and four and a half children.’ Giggling, she went over to her younger sister and gave her a hug. ‘You can eat as much as you like when the food’s upstairs.’ She backed away from Margot and placed the flat of her hand a few inches from her tummy. ‘May I?’ Margot nodded. ‘Goodness, you’re getting big.’ Bess beamed, ‘I can’t wait until this little one is born. What a party we’ll have then.’

  Margot blew out her cheeks. ‘I can’t wait either. I’m counting the days. I feel like an elephant, a tired one. I haven’t slept for a month.’

  Bess laughed at her sister who was clearly exaggerating. ‘Go and get Claire and Maeve.’

  ‘Maeve?’

  ‘Yes, Aimee invited Maeve’s niece to her party.’

  ‘I didn’t know Maeve had a niece.’

  ‘I didn’t either. But then, why would I? Anyway, Maeve and Nancy are lodging with the Vicar and his wife at St. Peter’s in Kirby Marlow. You’ll like Nancy, she’s lovely.’

  Margot, miles away and deep in thought, said wistfully, ‘One of the children who comes to dance classes is called Nancy. When she first came, I couldn’t say her name without thinking of my beautiful mentor at the Prince Albert Theatre, Nancy Jewel.’

  ‘It’s hard, isn’t it? I don’t think we ever get over losing someone we love. Accept it eventually, but there’ll always be names, people, places, to remind us of those who have died, especially in the war. Come on,’ Bess said, ‘think of how lucky you were to have survived the Blitz, and go up and meet her.

  ‘Aimee also invited little two boys who are staying here. Nice lads. Their parents have gone into Coventry for the afternoon. Their mother was born there, lived close to the city centre until she married. They’ve gone in to see the damage the Luftwaffe did to the Cathedral.’

  ‘So you’re babysitting,’ Margot said.

  ‘Not really. They’ll only be away for a couple of hours. Besides, it wouldn’t be much fun for Aimee if the only guests at her birthday party were her aunts and uncles.’ Bess gave Margot a selection of cutlery in a tea towel. ‘Put these on the table, will you? Oh, and Margot?’ Bess called after her, ‘Smile!’ Margot pulled a comical face and left Bess arranging plates of food on the trays.

  A breeze wafted into the hot kitchen. Bess turned and saw her brother-in-law Bill. Welcoming him with a kiss, she gave him a shopping bag containing bottles of lemon and barley, Vimto, lemonade and a dozen small tumblers.

  ‘Margot’s gone up to the old nursery. Will you take the drinks, and ask Frank to come down to help me carry the food? Oh, hang on.’ Bess took a clean table cloth and a dozen napkins from the linen cupboard. ‘Can you manage these?’ she asked, pushing them under Bill’s arm.

  No sooner had Bill left than Frank arrived. He staggered across the kitchen and fell into Bess’s arms. ‘I’m puffed out from blowing up balloons.’

  She kissed him, then playfully shooed him away. ‘You have quite a fan club, Uncle Frank,’ she teased.

  ‘Is that what you call them? I thought Aimee was a handful, but with Nancy as well…’

  ‘Go on with you, you love the attention. Oh, we’ll need music to play musical chairs.’

  Frank looked horrified at the suggestion. ‘There isn’t room for musical chairs!’

  ‘Oh, all right then, scrap the idea.’ And putting a tray of food in each of his hands, she sent him back upstairs.

  Claire and Maeve arrived at the same time. Bess gave Claire the birthday cake. ‘Don’t take it up yet,’ she said. ‘Oh, we need matches to light the candles.’ She ran over to the chef’s store cupboard and helped herself to a box of Swan Vestas. ‘Right!’ Bess said, and giving Maeve the tray of individual cakes she led the way to the nursery. Outside Bess and Claire held back. Bess lit the candles on the cake and Claire carried it in to a rousing round of “Happy Birthday To You”. When they had finished singing there were calls for Aimee to blow out the candles. She did, in one breath, to more cheers.

  Bill and Margot had put the tablecloth on the table and laid out the food. Because so much was still rationed the party food was no different to what they would have eaten for tea any other day, but with a little rearranging it looked appetising enough. Bess realised there weren’t any small plates and set off downstairs to get some while Frank poured everyone a soft drink. When she returned she put the plates on the end of the table and told the adults to help themselves.

  ‘Children?’ she called to Aimee, Nancy, Archie and Matthew. ‘Would you like egg sandwiches, corned beef, or cheese?’ It seemed they all wanted one of each, which suited Bess. ‘If you want more, come and tell me. And when you’ve eaten your sandwiches we’ll cut the cake.’

  The party was in full swing. Margot was telling Maeve about her pregnancy, how she had tried to eat sensibly, to keep her figure in some sort of shape, but had failed miserably. ‘Eating for two,’ Bess heard her say.

  Frank was telling Bill about the hotel’s bookings, and how the summer differed from the winter. ‘In the winter the guests seem to be older. And there are more city folk wanting to get away from the hustle and bustle of trains and trams and spend a relaxing time in the country. In the summer the hotel attracts families. The children love the animals,’ he said smiling. ‘In the winter, it’s brisk country walks over the Rye Hills and visiting the farms. In the summer, it’s days out to Warwick Castle, or trips to Coventry, to see what’s left of the Cathedral. Some people, couples mostly, drive as far as Stratford-upon-Avon.’

  Bess noticed Aimee picking at the corner of a box gift-wrapped in pink paper. She caught Claire’s eye and was about to suggest Aimee open her birthday presents when she realised Claire wasn’t looking at her, she was gazing past her at the door.

  Bess turned to see who Claire was looking
at. ‘Mitch?’

  ‘Hi, Bess. Hi, honey,’ he called to Aimee.

  ‘Dadd-ee!’ Aimee ran to her father. He picked her up and hugged her. ‘I’m having a birthday party like the Queen of Hearts,’ she said, wriggling to get down. ‘This is my friend.’ Nancy smiled up at Mitch, but stayed close to Frank. ‘And these are my friends Archie and Matthew.’ In turn the boys approached Mitch, shook his hand and said, ‘Pleased to meet you.’

  Mitch was welcomed warmly by his brothers-in-law and joined in with their conversation.

  By the time Aimee had opened her presents - a doll dressed as a ballerina from Margot and Bill - a pad of drawing paper and a set of paints and brushes from Bess and Frank - a dress from her mummy - a colouring book and crayons from Nancy - and a box of liquorice allsorts from Matthew and Archie - the party had come to a natural end.

  The boys’ parents, back from their afternoon out in Coventry, thanked Bess for letting their sons join the party and took them off to get ready for bed. Maeve said she had better make tracks too, as the Reverend and Mrs Sykes would be expecting them anytime. She thanked Aimee for inviting Nancy to the party and Aimee, who had been laughing all afternoon, suddenly frowned. She ran to Nancy and put her arms around her. ‘Can she come and play again tomorrow?’ Aimee asked, looking up at Maeve.

  ‘Not tomorrow, honey,’ Mitch cut in, ‘We’re going home tonight. It’s school tomorrow, right?’ Aimee’s bottom lip began to quiver. ‘We’ll let Maeve know when we’re next coming up to see Grandma and Aunt Bess, and she’ll bring Nancy over to play then,’ Mitch said, looking at Maeve for conformation.

  Maeve looked shocked, as everyone in the room did, by the sudden change of plan that Mitch had made for Claire and Aimee, and said, ‘Of course.’

  That’s it then, Bess thought, her sister and niece are going back to Oxford tonight. Bess didn’t say anything, nor did she allow her face to show surprise, as Maeve’s had done. She didn’t want to cause trouble between her sister and her husband. Though she had a feeling trouble was brewing.

 

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