Dorothy Eden (29 page)

“But he’s amenable after a few glasses of Scotch?”

Hetty grinned.

“And he’s not averse to a good brandy, either.”

“I’ll remember that after dinner. You’re too clever by half, you know. Come here and kiss me.”

She liked his autocratic voice, and allowed herself to be folded in his arms, relaxing gratefully. She believed the worst was over.

Clemency, you won’t spring any more horrid surprises on me, will you. That money is of no use to you any more, nor your mother’s diamond brooches and necklaces.

“Are you talking to yourself, darling?”

“I’m only saying that I’m going to flout the Bible and build up treasures on earth. We’re going to have the most beautiful house in England.”

“You always did steer yourself against fate, didn’t you?”

She was startled.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, thinking you can be happy with a one-eyed monster for a husband.”

“But I am! I am happy, Hugo!”

“Don’t be so intense. You’re not trying to convince a jury.”

A jury! Why did Hugo use such a terrible comparison?

Dinner was going to be a further test, when everyone was there, Lady Flora observing with her acute intelligence, Julia longing for Hetty to make a mistake and give herself away.

It began well enough. Uncle Jonas looked pompous, indeed, distinguished, in his dinner jacket, and was obviously charmed by Lady Flora. He addressed her frequently as “dear lady” and launched into long monologues about life in New York, sometimes adding, “Clemency will remember that, of course,” or “Clemency’s mother could tell that story better than I can.”

“It’s strange hearing you called Clemency, Hetty,” Lady Flora remarked. “But I do think Hetty suits you better. Or are we just familiar with it?”

“And that other girl,” Julia interjected, sharply and clearly. She looked slightly drunk, her eyes too bright, her colour unusually high.

“What girl, miss?” Uncle Jonas asked. He fixed his small stony eyes on Julia with no particular interest. He wanted to continue his conversation with Lady Flora.

“Why, Hetty’s maid. Didn’t Hetty tell you she had to go to London recently to try to identify a girl, a survivor from the
Lusitania.
She was very upset about it.”

“You didn’t tell me this, Clemency.”

“There was no point, Uncle Jonas. The girl turned out to be a complete stranger.” Hetty paused, then said calmly, “They had thought she might be my missing maid. You remember Brown? Harriet Brown.”

“Oh, yes, that young woman. I can’t say I remember what she looked like. Sad thing though. She never was heard of again, was she?”

“No,” said Hetty.

“Well, fortunes of war. This is a splendid claret, Lord Hazzard. And you’ve an excellent cook, too.” Uncle Jonas was getting comfortably fuddled. “I can thoroughly sympathise with my niece.”

“How, Uncle Jonas?” Hetty asked tentatively.

“Why, in wanting to restore this fine historic mansion. Well worth while. Damned worth while. You’re doing a service to the nation, and I have nothing but admiration for this country. I’ll have your stocks converted into cash as soon as I get back, Clemency. Better still, I’ll send a cable to my broker from here. In case the U-boats get me, eh? Eh?”

H
ETTY COULD SCARCELY BELIEVE
that fortune favoured her again. Uncle Jonas’s visit was an unqualified success. The day he left for London, and a brief stay in the Ritz Hotel, Hugo accompanied him, Pimm driving them in the Rolls. Hugo was going to have a last fitting of his artificial leg and, if all was well, he would come home wearing it. He was in good spirits at the prospect, so the goodbyes were jolly, and full of friendship and goodwill.

Lionel and Kitty, Freddie, Lady Flora and Hetty stood waving from the steps.

“Nice old boy,” said Lionel. “I wouldn’t have thought an American could have so much sympathy for the fate of an English house.”

“I’m glad,” said Kitty. “Because if Hetty has six daughters it will be Freddie’s one day.” She gave Hetty a friendly glance. “You ought to take your first baby to New York and show it to Uncle Jonas. He’s rather lonely, you know.”

“Yes, I ought to. When the war’s over, of course.” Hetty was utterly astonished that she was shedding tears at Uncle Jonas’s departure. And not tears of relief, but of real sorrow.

“Everybody’s packing bags today,” Freddie remarked.

“Everybody?” Hetty asked.

“Well, Uncle Jonas and Julia. That’s two people.”

“Julia!”

Lady Flora moved.

“Yes. Julia has decided to leave us. She misses the horses too much and I can’t keep her fully occupied. She’s bored.”

“But where’s she going?” Kitty asked. “You always said Loburn was to be her home.”

“That was a long time ago. Now she’s able to take care of herself. I’ve advised her to take a secretarial course. She’s excellent at writing letters.”

Hetty’s eyes were drawn unwillingly to meet Lady Flora’s enigmatic gaze.

“You know, Hetty, your Uncle Jonas was under the impression that you employed a secretary, but of course you don’t, do you?”

“What are you getting at, Mother?” Lionel asked.

“Nothing of importance. Are you and Kitty rushing off house-hunting again? Then perhaps Hetty will come and take hot chocolate with me. I warn you, Hetty, I shall be needing more of your company now that Julia has gone.”

“Of course, Lady Flora,” Hetty said numbly. “Shall I come up now?”

“If you would.” Lady Flora shivered. “It’s chilly. Departures. They’re sad, whatever their reason.”

There was no alternative but to come out in the open at last. Hetty sat facing Lady Flora in her charming green and white sitting room, and said bluntly, “How did you know that Julia wrote that letter to Uncle Jonas? And the earlier one to Lord and Taylor for the dress? I guessed, because I knew her motive, but how could you guess?”

“There.” Lady Flora sat by the fire warming her hands. “Now we’re cosy. How did I guess? Well, I simply insisted that she confess. I admit it wasn’t a pleasant experience. I had once hoped Julia would be my daughter-in-law. I was very fond of her. We shared our dislike of your coming to Loburn, Hetty. I apologise for that. You must have noticed.”

“I noticed you were always suspicious of me. You asked a lot of questions.”

“Exactly. I thought they needed asking. But where I gradually accepted your answers, Julia refused to. Oh dear, this is all very distressing. I can only tell you that she became more and more jealous of you until she was determined to destroy your marriage. At the beginning I had sympathy for her, but not since I’ve seen how clever you have been with Hugo in his worst moods, so quiet and compassionate and tenacious.”

“I’m a tenacious person, Lady Flora.”

“Indeed you are. You put up with Hugo’s horrible behaviour where another woman, even Julia, would have given up. So I came round to your side, and when I discovered what Julia was doing I couldn’t approve at all.”

“What was she doing?”

“Look! I’ll show you. She had made a list of the reasons she had or suspecting you were not Clemency Jervis. She meant to show it to Hugo when she had final proof.”

“Uncle Jonas’s visit was to provide that?”

“Precisely. Will you read this?”

“Must I?”

“Of course you must. Unless you’re afraid.”

“I’m not afraid,” Hetty lied.

Distastefully she scanned the neatly written page of assumptions, accusations and supposed evidence, all insubstantial, but all undoubtedly adding up to a disturbing picture.

(a) This young woman arrived in a nervous jumpy state, said her engagement ring had come off in the sea but not her gold bracelet initialled with the letters C.M.V. Hugo didn’t seem to think this unlikely, but Lady Flora and I did.

(b) She was always in a panic over any letters that arrived for her, as if she was afraid of what they might contain.

(c) She refused to be called Clemency, as if the name held horrors for her.

(d) She had unexplained frights, such as in the church one day when she came out looking as if she had seen a ghost. Her conscience must have been troubling her.

(e) Katharine Eversleigh told the story about Clemency Jervis on board ship, flirting and showing off her clothes which had all been made for her by Lord and Taylor. If she was so extrovert then why did she become so quiet and nervous? Because she wasn’t the same girl.

(f) Hetty’s consternation when the green dress arrived from New York and it didn’t exactly fit. It really didn’t. Only I saw that. But I had written for it, and its unexpected arrival shocked and surprised Hetty.

(g) She kept having nightmares about the shipwreck, and there was Kitty’s story about the badly wounded Canadian airman who had seemed to know her, but not as Clemency Jervis.

(h) Once she cried out the name Clemency in her sleep. Kitty told me Lionel had heard that and it had puzzled him. In view of all these things I thought it only right to clear up our suspicions for good and all by sending for Clemency’s nearest relative, her Uncle Jonas. He was the only one who could identify her positively. I felt absolutely justified in doing this.

Hetty lifted her head.

“Well?” said Lady Flora.

“I don’t think any of this would stand up in a court of law.”

“Of course it wouldn’t. But is it true?”

“Some of it. I did have nightmares. I still do. I get sudden attacks of terror. Of course I’m haunted by seeing all those people drowning, being nearly drowned myself.” Suddenly she pressed her hands to her cheeks in her old defensive gesture. “What are you going to do?” she whispered.

“Me? Nothing. Except tear this regrettable confession up and throw it on the fire. I think a judge would rule that the witness’s evidence was distorted by emotion.” She sighed. “Poor Julia.”

“She—made me lose my baby.”

“I know.” Lady Flora was brisk and calm. “So we couldn’t risk anything like that happening again.”

“But, Lady Flora,” Hetty seized the frail hands imploringly. “What do you yourself think?”

“Does it matter to you?”

“Oh, yes.”

“Although I made you feel an alien for so long?”

“It does matter to me what you think. It does!”

“Well, then, I think you’re a splendid wife for my son, and you’ll be a charming mother for my grandchild. Not to mention your being a very nice human being. Now we don’t need to say anything more. Not now, or ever.”

“But—”

“I’m a very incurious old lady with a great desire to preserve the status quo.”

“Like Uncle Jonas,” Hetty said involuntarily.

Lady Flora gave a small burst of delighted laughter.

“Like Uncle Jonas. How nice to be compared to that worthy man.”

Hetty didn’t see Julia leave. She only knew that Hugo was relieved to have her gone.

“She’ll be better in a place with horses,” he said.

“A secretarial course, your mother said.”

“Rubbish. She can’t spell.”

Two devious women, Hugo, and you’re left with one of them. But she promises to be faithful and loving and kind …

In the early spring, and exactly to the day Hetty’s labour began. She dreamed that she was Jacobina giving painful birth to a much-wanted but embarrassingly illegitimate child. What punishment would her husband have in store for her?

She heard the baby crying and opened her eyes.

“It’s a girl,” said Doctor Bailey. “Fine child. I hope you aren’t disappointed about her sex.”

Hetty roused herself. “Disappointed! Doctor! As long as she’s alive and healthy. That’s all Hugo and I ask for. Give her to me.”

She was very tired. That seemed to have been a long speech she had made. She fell asleep cuddling the newly-washed damp-haired creature who was her daughter. When she awoke there was a familiar face at her bedside. It had been there once before on a much less happy occasion.

“Freddie! How did you get in here? Did the nurse say you could come?”

“No. I sneaked. They say your baby’s a girl, Hetty. Can I see her?”

Hetty unfolded the shawl, and Freddie’s earnest gaze was bent for a long time on the small crumpled face. Then he nodded vigorously, as if he had come to some decision.

“What will you call her, Hetty?”

“You name her, Freddie. That will be my gift to you.”

Freddie’s face lighted with pleasure.

“Truly, Hetty? Do you mean that? Then I’d like her called Jessy, and when she’s grown up I’ll marry her.”

I
T WAS EARLY SPRING
in New York, the daffodils blowing in Central Park, the trees spiky with buds. The air was sharp and clear, the whole scene so invigorating that Jessy jumped with excitement.

“Oh, I belong here.”

“No, you don’t, you belong in England,” Freddie answered.

“But this city pulls me. I seem to have memories. Freddie, supposing I wanted to do what Mother did in reverse, and live in an American house, a New York house.”

“I wouldn’t allow you to. But let’s not get bewitched by the house until we see it. It may be cold and dusty and neglected and horrible.”

“There’s always been a caretaker, hasn’t there?”

“Supposed to have been. The bank said there would be someone here.”

“Oh, Freddie!” Jessy was almost dancing on the hard clean pavement bordering the park. “This is where Mother must have played with her hoop and taken her dolls out for an airing.”

“Can’t see your mother with dolls.”

“No. She wasn’t sentimental, was she? Very cool and practical and honest.” Jessy’s fingers tightened round her husband’s. “I loved her very much.”

“I know. So did I. She was always my favourite person at Loburn. Until you were born, of course.”

“And you instantly said you would marry me, even though I was bright pink and hideous. How horribly faithful you are.” Jessy’s gaze lingered on his face lovingly. “We’re so lucky, it almost scares me. Having each other, having Loburn, and now a famous old mansion on Fifth Avenue as well.”

“And I think we’re almost there. Halfway up the next block. No, it’s nearer. Look!” Now Freddie’s voice was excited, too. “This must be it.”

“It isn’t quite derelict,” Jessy said, after a while, looking at the tall narrow house squeezed between a towering block of apartments on one side, and something in heavy grey concrete with an ostentatious forecourt and fountain on the other. “But it does need painting and tidying up. No wonder property developers have wanted to get their hands on it. Look at the company it’s in. That’s surely a Rockefeller next door. This looks like millionaires’ row.”