Going Home (10 page)

‘Then ask them,’ her mother agreed. ‘They might prefer the spring, not everyone enjoys our harsh winters in the Holderness plain!’

As they sat down for supper, Amelia’s father asked, ‘Have you told Amelia the news?’

‘No, not yet.’ Her mother smiled, her eyes sparkling. ‘I wanted to get our greetings over first.’

‘Oh, what news?’ Amelia looked around the table. Her brothers and sisters were obviously waiting in anticipation too. ‘I know!’ She gazed at the twins. ‘Father Christmas is coming early!’

‘I hope not,’ said her mother solemnly, ‘for we’re not yet ready for him. No,’ she said. ‘Something even better than that. I’ve had a letter from Aunt Meg. Your cousin Ralph is setting sail from Sydney just after Christmas. He will be here to visit us in the spring.’

ELIZABETH FIELDING HAD
put the finishing touches to the Christmas goose ready for cooking the next morning. It was a poor specimen, so she had filled its cavities with chestnut stuffing and pieces of pork and a whole onion, in an attempt to plump it out. She washed her hands to remove the grease and took off her apron and was about to put another log on the parlour fire when there was a knock on the door.

‘Now who’s this?’ she murmured. Harriet was out doing last-minute shopping, but she had her key. ‘Christmas revellers perhaps?’ The knock came again. Harder this time and somehow more determined. She gave a sudden shudder. Surely not? Not on Christmas Eve?

She turned the iron key in the lock and slowly opened the door. Her heart sank as she saw who was standing there.

‘Well, Lizzie! Aren’t you going to let your dear papa in? Are you going to keep us standing on the doorstep?’

Reluctantly she opened the door wider to admit a tall grey-haired thickset man, and then stood back to let the woman behind him enter also.

‘Well come along. Let’s go in by the fire. We’re frozen, aren’t we, Dolly? You have got a fire I suppose?’

She led them through the small hall and opened the door into the parlour, glad that the fire was burning low and that she hadn’t built it up. Perhaps if they were cold they wouldn’t stay long.

‘We were doing some Christmas shopping,’ the man said. ‘Thought we’d drop by to see how you were. Where’s Harriet?’

‘We are quite well, thank you. Harriet is out.’ She didn’t ask them to sit down, nor did she ask how they were. She could see for herself that they were healthy and prosperous. He wore a warm wool cape and hat which he didn’t remove and Dolly had a fur cape around her shoulders, a fur hat on her straw-coloured hair and a very pronounced bustle beneath her winter dress.

‘Haven’t you got a kiss for me then Lizzie?’ Dolly’s voice was high-pitched and without inflection. Elizabeth’s lips brushed her proffered powdered cheek and she smelt the aroma of stale perfume.

‘How’s the school business then?’ The visitor lowered himself into a chair. ‘Making money, are you?’

‘A living, thank you. We manage.’

‘Mmm.’ He glanced around the small room. ‘Looks the same. Nothing new.’ He leaned back in the chair and smiled complacently at Lizzie. ‘If you need anything you only have to ask.’

And there are always conditions, she reflected bitterly. A leopard doesn’t change its spots. But she simply inclined her head and repeated, ‘We manage, thank you.’

She heard Harriet’s key in the door and her sister’s voice calling from the hall. ‘Elizabeth! The carollers are coming, do we have a mince pie for them?’

She burst through the door, her cheeks red from the cold air. She stopped short when she saw the visitors. ‘Oh. Hello – ! This is a surprise.’

‘Well, yes it has been some time since we called, but I’m always busy you know.’ He sighed. ‘And then there was the tragedy, which meant I couldn’t socialize.’

‘Tragedy?’ Harriet asked. ‘What tragedy?’

‘My poor dear wife – you didn’t hear?’

Elizabeth felt a sinking despair come over her. ‘We live very quiet lives,’ she began.

He shook his head. ‘I don’t know how I survive; so much to happen to one man.’ He gave another, deeper sigh. ‘My wife – so little time together. She died. Drowned. Found her body in the Ouse!’

Elizabeth sat down abruptly and Harriet clutched the arm of the chair.

‘A dreadful accident,’ said Dolly.

‘How?’ Elizabeth asked in a low voice. ‘How did it happen?’

‘I don’t know,’ he answered, shaking his head again. ‘I had turned my back for only a moment to admire the sunset when I heard her cry out. She must have slipped. I rushed to get help, but too late.’ He took out his handkerchief and blew his nose.

‘We’re so sorry,’ Harriet murmured. ‘Aren’t we, Elizabeth?’

‘Very sorry.’ Elizabeth licked her suddenly dry lips. ‘We never met your wife of course, but yes, very sorry. When did this happen?’

‘Oh, must be seven – eight months ago,’ he said. ‘I’m only just getting over it.’

‘You didn’t think to tell us before?’ Elizabeth asked.

‘Well, as you say, you had never met my wife,’ he replied testily.

‘He has so many commitments,’ Dolly cut in. ‘He’s always in demand, aren’t you, Eddy? This committee or that.’ She sniffed and put her gloved hand to her nose. ‘I don’t suppose there’s a cup o’ tea is there?’

Elizabeth hesitated, but Harriet interrupted. ‘Oh, dear. No, so sorry! We must be off. Elizabeth are you not ready? The service at the Minster starts in half an hour and there’s sure to be a crowd. Perhaps you would like to join us?’ she asked the visitors.

‘No, no.’ He pulled himself out of the chair. ‘Can’t be doing with all that religious rubbish.’

‘It is Christmas,’ Elizabeth said quietly. ‘Or had you forgotten?’

‘Forgotten! Can hardly forget with Dolly here to remind me.’ He gave his companion a pinch on her cheek. ‘Wanting this and that! Can we give you a ride to the Minster?’ he added. ‘There’s a cabby waiting in the square.’

‘No thank you.’ They chorused a refusal of his offer. ‘We like to walk,’ said Harriet. ‘We’re used to walking,’ added a grim-faced Elizabeth.

‘We’ll be off then.’ He looked down on them both. His joviality seemed to have disappeared and distaste appeared on his face. ‘You get more like your mother every time I see you, Lizzie. Hope you haven’t inherited her wicked temper?’

She took a deep breath. ‘Only when I am provoked,’ she answered quietly. ‘When I am ill-used.’

His eyes narrowed. ‘Glad to hear the school is prospering. You’ll be building up a good reputation. Take care that you don’t lose it.’

As she closed the door after them, Elizabeth leant her head against it and tried to quell her angry tears.

‘Come and sit down, Elizabeth. I’ll make you a cup of tea.’ Harriet led her to the fire and sat her down, then put a dry log and a few pieces of coal on the fire. Soon the flames were dancing high.

‘Why do you think he came?’ she asked as she poured the tea. ‘It must be eighteen months
since he was last here. He came then to tell us that he was marrying again.’

Elizabeth rubbed her forehead. A dull headache was hovering over her eyes. ‘A wicked whim,’ she said. ‘And also to remind us – as if we needed reminding. His wife,’ she added. ‘Poor woman. They were not married for very long. Do you think she slipped or – ?’

‘Don’t think about it,’ Harriet said hastily. ‘It was most unfortunate, as it was with Bella.’ But she shivered and drew nearer to the fire.

‘Dolly is still with him,’ she said after a moment or two. ‘At least she is constant.’

‘Yes, she’s always there. Always has been.’ Elizabeth sipped her tea. ‘Are we missing the service?’ she asked.

Harriet shook her head. ‘I told a fib. It starts in an hour. Do you feel like going now?’

‘Oh, yes.’ Elizabeth pulled herself together. ‘I need to go now more than ever. I need to get rid of this hatred that’s gnawing away at me.’

‘Listen!’ Harriet put her head up. ‘There are the carol-singers. Let’s invite them in and then we’ll get ready.’

At the Minster, Elizabeth folded her hands together and bent her head. The majesty of the great cathedral always calmed her. We are nothing in the whole scheme of things, she pondered. We have so little time on this earth, so why is it that there are some people who go out of their way to make others unhappy, and who do their best to exert power over them?
Such a one is Edward Scott. I should pray for his enlightenment that he might see the error of his ways. But I can’t. I hate him with such intensity that it threatens to ruin me.

She bent her head lower in contrition, yet still she couldn’t forgive him for ruining her life and that of her sister, her mother and his other wives who had suffered at his hands. Dear God, she prayed. Forgive me for my anger and give me peace. Bless the soul of my dear departed father and bless my mother, wherever she is, in this life or the next.

On Christmas Day, Thomas Thacker and his father arrived for luncheon. Thomas had brought a bunch of violets for Elizabeth and a pretty scarf for Harriet. Mr Thacker, who leaned heavily on two sticks with his twisted and gnarled hands, had brought a bottle of sherry. ‘To toast your health, dear ladies, and your good fortune.’

They each drank a glass of sherry before luncheon and afterwards, as Harriet and Thomas, who had offered his help, cleared away and washed the dishes, Elizabeth and Mr Thacker sat by the fire and drank another.

‘You are looking a little peaky, my dear. You could do with a brisk walk to bring some roses to your cheeks. I would offer,’ he said with a fleeting smile, ‘but I fear I cannot walk far.’

‘Harriet and I have said we will take a walk by the river tomorrow. We like to do that on Boxing Day. But for the moment I am quite content to sit by the fire and enjoy your company.’

She paused. He was a good friend to her and Harriet, they had known him a long time. ‘We had a visitor on Christmas Eve,’ she told him. ‘Edward Scott. He brought bad news, as he so often does when he visits.’

Mr Thacker looked across at her and his eyes were suddenly wary. ‘What news?’

‘Of his wife, the last Mrs Scott. It seems she drowned in the River Ouse.’

‘He is very careless with his wives,’ he murmured. ‘That makes three who have not lived to a ripe old age.’

A look of anguish crossed Elizabeth’s face and he added quickly, ‘You will not find peace, Elizabeth, if you do not accept that your mother is dead.’

‘I can’t,’ she whispered. ‘Not until there is proof.’

‘She would have contacted you, or me, or someone she could trust if she were still alive. She would not have deliberately left you not knowing.’ He sighed. ‘I blame myself constantly, even after all these years. I was the one who introduced her to Scott.’

‘You were not to know.’ She reached out and touched his hand. ‘It’s Christmas,’ she said, trying to smile. ‘We must not be unhappy, Mama would not want that. We must look forward to another, better year.’

In the tiny kitchen as Harriet and Thomas washed and dried the dishes, she told him of Edward Scott’s visit. ‘He has upset Elizabeth,’
she said. ‘I think sometimes that he comes purposely to remind us of what happened, so that we can never forget or put it behind us.’

Thomas, who was very tall and thin, bent low and kissed her cheek. ‘If only we could marry, Harriet, I would help you forget. But then you hardly remember, do you?’

She put down her drying cloth. ‘I remember nothing of what happened, only what Elizabeth has told me,’ she said quietly. ‘But I remember the scent of my mother and the softness of her face when she bent over my cot.’

‘Father says she was the kindest, sweetest woman he has ever met, after my own mother. He also said that he would have asked her to marry him except that he was penniless, and she had a legacy left to her from your father. My father was too proud to ask her because of that,’ he said. ‘But Scott wasn’t and he got it all in the end.’

‘Poor Mama,’ she said softly. ‘Poor, poor Mama.’

‘
BRR, IT’S SO
cold!’ Jack turned up his coat collar against the rain and shivered. He and Ralph were watching the progress of their ship into Portsmouth harbour. On the quayside they could see knots of people, seamen, porters and others waiting to greet the passengers as the ship eased its way in.

Ralph agreed. ‘It’s supposed to be spring,’ he said. ‘But it’s so grey. Where’s the sun?’

‘Mr Hawkins. Mr Hawkins! Oh, isn’t it so exciting?’ Mrs Boyle joined them. ‘We’re all packed. Phoebe is just fastening up our trunks.’

‘It’s so cold, Mrs Boyle,’ Ralph complained. ‘I hope you won’t catch a chill.’

Mrs Boyle was dressed in a plain grey fitted gown with long sleeves and short train, and over it a matching wool jacket. ‘Indeed I won’t,’ she smiled. ‘I have my old mantle which I took out with me to Australia. I never wore it there, but I shall wear it now. My daughter laughs at me because it is so old-fashioned, but I shall
be glad of it on the journey to Southampton.’

She gave a deep satisfied sigh. ‘It is so good to be almost home.’

‘Will your brother be there to meet you, Mrs Boyle?’ Ralph began. ‘If not we shall be glad – ’

‘Oh, I’m sure he will be. I wrote to tell him of the ship and when we would be likely to arrive.’ She was in a dither of excitement. ‘Will I know him, I wonder? Will he recognize me after so many years? And my mother, I expect she will have aged considerably! My poor father.’ She had a catch in her voice. ‘He died not long after I left England.’

Ralph and Jack said nothing, but let her talk on, of how she was looking forward to seeing her old home again. Of her brother who had taken over the estate after their father’s death, and of their mother who still lived with him and his wife.

‘Now, Mama. I’m sure that Ralph and Jack don’t want to be bored with our family history.’ Phoebe appeared behind her.

‘On the contrary,’ Ralph replied, thinking that Phoebe had often been sharp with her mother over the last few days, ‘I am intrigued by it. I am very pleased for you, Mrs Boyle, that you are seeing your family again.’

She smiled at him. ‘I hope that you too will find whom you are seeking, Mr Hawkins.’

He raised his eyebrows. So Ma had told her why he was here.