‘I want to go outside and play,’ Aimee said, ‘I want to see the pony.’
‘And the pigs?’ Nancy said. ‘Can we play outside, please?’
‘Er… Yes, of course we can.’ The pony was one thing. Bess loved horses and was more than happy to lead old Donnie round the paddock, but she would do anything to avoid the pigs. ‘The pony it is then!’
‘And the pigs,’ Nancy reminded.
‘And the pigs.’ Bess grimaced. ‘I know,’ she said, as if a sudden thought had just popped into her mind. ‘We’ll get Uncle Frank to come out with us.’ The girls cheered and ran to Frank. ‘How about it, Uncle?’ Bess put her hands together, as if in prayer.
‘But my paperwork,’ Frank said, raising his eyebrows.
‘Touché!’ Bess said, laughing. ‘Tell you what, I’ll help you with your work later, if you’ll help me with mine, now.’ She looked from Aimee to Nancy. ‘Besides, you’re much better than I am with the pigs.’
‘You mean I don’t mind getting my boots mucky.’
‘What a cheek! How many years was I a Land Girl?’
Bess and Frank followed the two chattering children outside. It was a lovely afternoon. An Indian Summer the BBC’s newsreader had called it. It hadn’t rained for several weeks so the ground was dry. Frank forked hay into the pony’s manger and filled the water trough in the small stable. ‘We’d better leave Donnie to eat in peace.’ There was a moment of complaint until Frank said they would go back to the pony. ‘Now,’ he said, ‘we need to give the pigs some water.’
‘Do the hens need water?’ Aimee asked.
‘Yes. All animals need water. Same as us humans.’
Aimee wrinkled her nose and Nancy copied her. ‘By the time we’ve fed and watered the other animals, Donnie will have finished eating and be ready for a walk round the paddock.’ Both girls shouted their approval.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Hand in hand, Bess and Frank followed Aimee and Nancy across the peacock lawn. Rounding the north side of the lake and strolling down the east side, the children disappeared every now and then to collect leaves. In contrast to the neatly mown lawn, which had been tailored since the days of the present Lord Foxden’s great-grandfather, the grass on the east side of the lake was left to grow to encourage wild flowers.
‘Don’t go near the water, girls,’ Bess called to the children. ‘Come on, let’s catch them up.’ Still holding Frank’s hand, Bess started to run. Frank pulled her back, put his arms around her and kissed her. Bess looked up at him, ‘What was that?’
‘Has it been so long you’ve forgotten?’
‘No!’ Bess laid her head on her husband’s chest. ‘We’ve been so busy lately we haven’t had time for us.’
‘Then we’ll have to make time,’ Frank said, kissing her again.
Bess giggled. ‘Stop it, the girls will see us.’ She looked over her shoulder. The children were engrossed in making patterns with different coloured leaves. ‘We are going to have to organise our time better.’ Frank pulled her close. ‘I mean it, Frank. Because it’s half-term this week the hotel is full, and with Maeve taking the week off we’re going be busier than ever.’
‘Do you think Maeve would change her week?’
‘No. She specifically asked for next week off because it is half-term. The Reverend and Mrs Sykes are somewhere up north visiting a sick relative and Nancy will be at home every day. Maeve doesn’t have anyone to look after her.’ Bess looked up at Frank and kissed him on the cheek. ‘We’ll be all right. Claire has to go home and sort things out with Mitch, but Ena will be here. I’ll work on reception and Ena can oversee the kitchen and dining room.’
‘Chef will love that,’ Frank said sarcastically.
‘He will actually. He has a soft spot for Ena. His cheeks go pink like a china doll’s when she’s around. And Ena likes it because he does as she asks, instead of debating every issue, which is what he does with me. Chef is putty in our Ena’s hands.’
Bess turned at the sound of someone calling her name. Maeve was running across the peacock lawn. They walked back to meet her. ‘What on earth’s the matter, Maeve?’
‘My holiday, Mrs Donnelly. I booked the week off starting on Monday, because it’s half-term and the Reverend and Mrs Sykes are away. However, I have just taken a phone call from my brother in Ireland. My mother is seriously ill. She had a stroke yesterday and has been rushed to hospital. Would it be possible for me to start my holiday today? The doctor told my brother it’s touch and go. He said she only has a fifty-fifty chance of recovering. I need to go to Ireland urgently.’
‘Of course. You must go straight away. Is there anything Frank and I can do? One of us will drive you to the station, or wherever you need to go, won’t we, Frank?’
‘Yes, I’ll take you,’ Frank said.
Maeve nodded her thanks, and then turned to Bess but didn’t speak. She closed her eyes as if she searching for the right words. ‘What is it, Maeve?’
‘I have no one to look after Nancy. I was hoping, praying, that she could stay here with you and Mr Donnelly for the week. Mrs Sykes is in Yorkshire and there isn’t anyone--’ Maeve caught her breath and began to cry.
‘They’re away until the weekend,’ she said, taking a handkerchief from her pocket and wiping her tears. ‘I should be back by then. If I’m not, Mrs Sykes will look after Nancy - take her to school and pick her up. They’re getting old and taking care of a child twenty-four hours a day is a bit too much for them. Well, maybe not for Mrs Sykes, but it is for the Reverend. Oh dear,’ Maeve said, ‘Mother taking ill couldn’t have come at a worse time.’
‘Frank?’ Bess looked at her husband, willing him to say yes. She would love to have Nancy stay with them for a week, but their marriage was one of equality. To have a child living with them, when they were going to be busy, had to be a joint decision.
‘Yes. As long as it won’t be too much for you, Bess?’
‘It won’t. You go and see your mother, Maeve. Nancy will be fine here with Frank and me.’
‘Thank you, Mrs Donnelly, Mr Donnelly.’ Maeve shook their hands in turn. ‘I’ll go and tell her,’ she said, running to where the children were playing.
‘You are sure about this, Frank?’
‘If it’s what you want?’
Bess thought about making light of it by saying if it will help Maeve or it’s only for a week... The truth was, looking after Nancy was what she wanted more than anything. Bess had never lied to Frank and she wasn’t about to start now. ‘Yes, it is what I want. She’s a lovely little girl.’
Frank put his arms around her, kissed the top of her head, and rocked her gently. ‘Just promise me you won’t get too attached to her, Bess. She is lovely, but she will be going back to live with Maeve when she returns from Ireland.’
‘I know,’ Bess said, looking at Nancy as her Aunt explained the following week’s arrangements. Bess watched Maeve and the two little girls as they walked towards her.
Aimee broke away from the trio and ran ahead, arriving at Bess’s side before the others. ‘Can I stay with you and Uncle Frank next week, too?’
‘You have to go home to your daddy, sweetheart.’ Aimee’s face crumbled and her big blue eyes brimmed with tears. Usually when she cried, Bess gave in to her, but not this time. That Claire went home and sorted things out with Mitch was of the utmost importance. ‘We’ll talk about it later, darling.’
Maeve looked at Bess, and then at Frank. ‘I’ll drop off Nancy’s clothes and some of her toys on the way to the station.’ Bending down so she was Nancy’s height, Maeve said, ‘Be a good girl for Mr and Mrs Donnelly.’ Nancy nodded and wrapped her arms around her aunt’s neck. Maeve eased the little girl from her and kissed her goodbye. ‘I’ll be back soon.’ She thanked Bess and Frank, and ran back to the hotel.
‘I’ll take Maeve to Kirby Marlow to pick up Nancy’s clothes, then I’ll drop her off at the station,’ Frank said, and followed Maeve to the hotel.
Bess thought
it would take Nancy’s mind off her aunt leaving if, instead of going back to the hotel, they carried on with their walk. She took each child by the hand and as they strolled along by the lake, she talked about the ducks and drakes, waterlilies and bulrushes. When they came to the south side of the lake, by the small wood that backed onto Shaft Hill, Bess had progressed to talking about her childhood. Reminiscing, she told them how she and her sisters used to visit the Foxden Estate with her father when they were Aimee and Nancy’s age. She told them about the time she worked on the land with her friends in the Land Army - and she told them about Sable, the horse she’d loved, which from a young age she had exercised every day.
Eventually the girls lost interest and ran off to collect more leaves and watch the ducks on the lake.
As she walked along, Bess reflected on her decision. Looking after a child during one of the busiest times in the hotel’s calendar was not going to be easy. It was what she wanted, and dare she think it was what Frank needed. She had wondered how Frank would feel about adopting a child. A lot of children were left without parents after the war, which she and Frank had talked about and which Bess had hoped would lead to a discussion about adoption. Then a disaster in the kitchen happened, or she was called away because of a double booking. But if looking after Nancy for a week was a success - and she felt sure it would be - she would broach the subject of adoption at the end of the summer, when the hotel was less busy.
Bess watched Aimee and Nancy skip round the bend of the lake by the small wood and quickened her step. ‘Aimee, where’s Nancy?’ Aimee pointed to the edge of the lake and the large clump of reeds that had hidden David Sutherland’s body from New Year until the middle of March. ‘Come away from there Aimee.’ Bess took her niece by the hand, and led her away from the bank to higher ground. ‘Stay there,’ she said - and to Nancy she shouted, ‘Don’t go any nearer the water, darling.’ Nancy, seeming to ignore Bess, pointed to the reeds at the water’s edge.
Bess’s stomach knotted as she slid down the short, steep incline the way Frank had done on the day Sutherland’s body was found. Forcing herself to look, she saw the webbed foot of a duckling ensnared in the roots of the reeds. She slithered down further until she was able to reach the flapping creature. With one hand she managed to grab the frightened duckling without it attacking her, and with the other hand she picked the tangled roots from around its leg. She let go of the duckling as far from the reeds as she could safely reach and the little creature fluttered and splashed its way to freedom across the glassy lake.
Digging her heels into the soft earth at the lake’s edge, and pushing down with the palms of her hands, Bess inched her way up the slope. Once she was in no fear of slipping into the lake and taking Nancy with her, she reached out to the child. ‘Take my hand, Nancy.’ The little girl turned her head to look back at Bess and slid nearer to the water.
‘Don’t turn round, darling. Keep looking forward. Just put your arm out to the side.’ Nancy did as she was told and Bess clasped her hand around the child’s wrist. ‘That’s it. I’ve got you. Now I’m going to pull you up the bank to me, but before I do that I want you to press the heels of your shoes into the ground.’ Nancy nodded without turning. ‘Good girl. Here we go, then.’ As soon as Bess saw Nancy was digging her heels into the grassy bank, she pulled her arm. The slightly-built eight-year old weighed so little that it only took a few seconds for Bess to haul her to safety.
Trembling, Nancy flung her arms around Bess’s neck and held onto her tightly. Bess was startled by her strength. ‘There you are,’ Bess said, ‘you’re safe now.’ Bess felt Nancy’s cheek brush her hair as she nodded, but she didn’t lift her head, or take her arms from Bess’s neck. When she did eventually relax her grip, she slowly turned and looked back to where the duckling had been trapped.
Icy fingers gripped Bess’s heart and she gave a convulsive shiver. Nancy was looking directly at the spot where David Sutherland’s body was found six months earlier.
‘You saved the life of that little duck, didn’t you, darling?’ Bess said, trying to attract the child’s attention. Transfixed on the water, Nancy only nodded. It struck Bess that there might be times during the coming week when she wouldn’t be able to watch Nancy every moment of the day, so she must make it clear to her that if she went outside on her own, she must not go down to the lake.
‘Nancy? Look at me, sweetheart.’ The child’s gaze slowly drifted from the reed’s twisted roots, lying just below the water’s surface, to Bess’s face. Bess didn’t want to frighten the child, but if she had fallen into the lake and become caught up in them… Bess’s stomach churned. The consequences didn’t bear thinking about.
‘You must promise me that you will never go near the edge of the lake again,’ Bess said, sternly. Nancy glanced over her shoulder at the water. ‘Nancy!’ The child’s head jerked and she looked back at Bess, her eyes moist from the harsh tone of Bess’s voice. ‘I didn’t mean to shout, but the water is deep and it is dangerous. Do you understand?’ Nancy nodded. ‘Good girl.’ Bess hugged Nancy to her.
Scrambling to their feet, Bess and Nancy joined Aimee. Together the three of them watched the lone duckling, its feathers still ruffled, paddling for all it was worth across the lake to join a family of a dozen or more ducks by a large cluster of bulrushes on the far side.
Nancy looked up at Bess and slipped her hand into Bess’s hand. Bess offered her other hand to Aimee and together they walked alongside the lake, but at a safe distance, up to the peacock lawn. As they neared the drive, Frank’s car came round the corner of the hotel with Maeve in the passenger seat. Frank beeped the horn and Maeve waved out of the window.
Bess and Aimee returned the gesture. Aimee shouted, ‘Bye, bye,’ while Bess called, ‘Safe journey.’ Nancy stood motionless and said nothing. She watched the car until it had disappeared around the bend to Mysterton Lane. Then, gripping Bess’s hand tightly she said, ‘Will Aunt Maeve come back for me?’
Bess knelt down on one knee and looked into the little girl’s troubled face. ‘Of course she’ll come back for you, darling.’ Nancy didn’t look convinced, so Bess said, ‘When we get back to the hotel, we’ll mark the days that she’ll be away on the calendar in my office. Then you can colour them in one day at a time until your aunt is back. All right?’
‘All right,’ Nancy said.
That problem solved, the two friends ran ahead of Bess, waiting for her to catch up with them on top of the hotel’s steps.
‘Any calls?’ Bess asked Jack, as she and the children arrived at reception.
‘One for Mrs Mitchell, from her husband. He said he’ll ring again later.’
‘Thanks Jack, I’ll tell her when she gets back from Coventry.’
Bess suggested to her two small temporary wards that they all go upstairs, change out of their muddy shoes and socks, put on clean ones, and wash their hands and faces because it was almost time for tea. The reply from both girls was can we tick the calendar first? So into the office they traipsed, muddy shoes and all.
They followed Bess across the room like two shadows. She took the calendar from the wall and laid it on her desk. ‘Who knows what day it is?’
‘Saturday!’ they both shouted, pointing to the square beneath the word.
‘That was much too easy, wasn’t it?’ Bess said, laughing, and marked the square with an X. ‘Your aunt Maeve has only just left for Ireland, so it isn’t really the first day that she’s away, is it?’ Nancy shook her head. ‘And next Saturday she’ll be back.’ Bess marked the day with an X ‘So because tomorrow is the first day, write the number one in Sunday’s square Nancy, and Aimee write number two in Monday’s square.’
Bess watched the girls take it in turn to write the numbers in the squares, arriving at six the following Friday. ‘There,’ she said, lifting the calendar and admiring the neat numbers. ‘Now every time you colour in a square you’ll be one day nearer to seeing your aunt again, Nancy.’
Bess hung the calenda
r back on the wall and went to check on the kitchen leaving the girls with sheets of paper and crayons to make the important decision of which colour would be best for which day of the week. By the time she returned to the office, it wasn’t only tea time, but Claire and Ena were back from visiting Margot and the baby.
‘Jack said Mitch telephoned. Is it all right if I use your phone to call him back, Bess?’
‘Of course. Ena and I will take the girls up to get changed. Can Nancy borrow a pair of Aimee’s socks?’
‘In the top drawer of the tallboy. Help yourself to anything.’
‘Thanks. Come on you two, leave your colouring. You can finish it after tea.’
Upstairs, Ena and Bess took the children into Claire’s room. Bess took off Nancy’s shoes and scraped the mud from them into a wastepaper basket, while Ena took off both girls’ socks, giving them clean ones to put on. Aimee elected to keep her dress on as it was clean. Nancy’s was soiled from where she had been sitting on the edge of the lake and although she didn’t want to take her dress off, Bess persuaded her to wear one of Aimee’s dresses until her own clothes arrived. Although Nancy was two years older than Aimee, she was small for her age. Aimee’s dress was a little big round Nancy’s waist, but with her cardigan on top she looked fine.
Bess and Ena returned to the office. Claire was waiting for them. ‘We’re going home tomorrow,’ she said to her sisters. Aimee’s face changed from happy to almost tearful, until Claire said, ‘Daddy is taking us to France on Monday to see Grandma Edith.’
Bess and Ena looked at each other. They had discussed Claire’s unhappy marriage and Mitch’s shellshock. And they had agreed that if Mitch wasn’t going to seek professional help through the Canadian Air Force, the best person for him to talk to was Edith Belland, but so soon--
‘Close your mouths, you two,’ Claire said. ‘After all my agonising, Mitch agreed to see Edith the second I mentioned her name.’
‘But I haven’t seen Grandma Dudley,’ Aimee whined, her bottom lip sticking out further than her top lip.
Foxden Hotel (The Dudley Sisters Saga Book 5) Page 17
