Louis raised his eyes to hers. ‘Once he’s read this you’ll never work as a teacher in this area ever again. You realize that, don’t you?’
She took the letter from him and replaced it in the envelope. ‘Oh, yes. I could have said a lot more – told him what I think of him – but I shall need references and I mustn’t burn all my boats.’
‘But what will you do? Will you be happy giving up teaching? Which you’ll have to do – unless you become a governess. But then you’d have to live with your employers, for you’ll be forced to leave this cottage. Unless of course you go to live with your brother . . .’
She smiled. ‘No, Louis, I have no intention of going to live with my brother – even if he invited me to.’ She paused. ‘Indeed – I don’t intend to live in Flaxdown.’
‘You – you don’t?’
‘No. By the time next Easter comes round I hope to be fixed up with a position in London.’
He gazed at her in surprise. ‘You’re going to live in London?’
‘I intend to start looking for a position there right away.’
‘But – why London? There are places closer at hand where you could find work. You don’t need to travel so far.’
She shrugged. ‘If I’m leaving Flaxdown I might as well go to London as anywhere else.’
‘But you’ll be so far away from – from your brother and your sisters.’
‘I know that, but I don’t play any major part in their lives any more. And I can still get to see them occasionally, I’m sure. Once I leave this post there’ll be nothing to keep me in Flaxdown.’
‘But why is it necessary for you to go to London?’
‘It isn’t exactly the end of the earth.’
‘It’s a very long way.’
‘Yes – but anyway, I’ve got friends there.’
‘Friends?’
‘Well, yes – my friend Jane is there.’
‘Oh, yes.’ He paused. ‘You said friends – plural.’
‘I meant Jane. I shall try to find a place situated near her. It’ll be lovely to see her again. It’ll be like old times.’
‘Is she the only reason?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Is she the only reason for your choosing London?’
‘Well, no – but I’ve been there. And there’s no denying it’s a wonderfully exciting place.’
‘Oh, it is that, most certainly.’ He gave a little smile. ‘Is that what you’re looking for – excitement?’
She laughed. ‘A little excitement certainly wouldn’t come amiss – not after living in such a quiet spot as Flaxdown all my life.’
‘Well, London might be exciting, but it can also be a very lonely place. Wouldn’t you be happier in a smaller town – somewhere nearer to your roots? You could go to somewhere like Trowbridge or Warminster.’
She frowned. ‘Please, Louis – I don’t need pessimism at a time like this. I need optimism and encouragement.’
‘I certainly don’t want to discourage you,’ he said. ‘I just wonder whether you’re doing the right thing.’
‘Oh, Louis – please. Don’t play devil’s advocate. This is difficult enough for me as it is without your depressing comments.’
‘Am I depressing you? I’m sorry.’ He stood there for a moment then took a step towards the door. ‘It’s getting late; I’d better be off.’ He put on his hat. ‘Whatever you do, Abbie, I just hope you’ll be happy, that’s all.’
‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘It’s what we all want, isn’t it?’
‘Yes.’ He gave a little smile. ‘And most of the time it’s too much to expect.’
A moment later he had wished her goodbye and gone from the cottage. She stood there for some moments after his departure and then realized that she was still holding the letter. For a second she considered running after him, but decided against it. She would deliver it herself and without wasting any further time.
She put on her cape then left the schoolhouse and set off to walk the short distance to Hawthorn Lane. Reaching the Grange, the home of Mr Carstairs, she walked up the drive and inserted the letter through the letter box slot. It was done. And now there was no going back.
In the schoolhouse once more she ate a light supper then sat beside the fire, and all the while her thoughts kept going back to the events of the day and to her letter of resignation. She might have expected now to feel some sensation of relief, but she did not. Yet she had done the right thing, the only thing possible in the circumstances. Yes, and as for going to London, that would be all right too. She would find a place without too much difficulty. So why, she asked herself, was she fretting so? Was it due to Louis? Louis, sowing his seeds of doubt? But what did he know?
After school the following day she wrote to Jane, briefly relating what had happened and telling of her intentions to seek work as a governess in London. She would start searching the columns of the newspapers immediately, she said. In addition, if Jane should hear of any suitable position that was due to become vacant she should let her know at once.
After Abbie had put aside her pen she sat for some minutes deep in thought then got up and went to her bureau. From a drawer she took a letter in an envelope. It was the one she had received from Arthur after she had broken off their engagement. She sat down at the table, unfolded the sheet of notepaper and read again the last words that he had written:
. . . If your situation alters and you change your mind you know well enough where to find me. At present you may believe that it is all finished between us but I know that it is not. One day we shall be together; and I will wait for that day . . .
She sat for a long time with the open letter before her.
Chapter Twenty-Five
All but one of Abbie’s pupils had gone – wishing her their last goodbyes before hurrying out into the spring sunshine and the start of the Easter holidays. Only Tom Gilpin was left. He came to her where she stood going through the contents of her desk, stopped and looked up at her. He did not know but it was he who had been the catalyst in the situation that had led to her going.
‘Yes, Tom . . .’ She smiled at him as he stood silently before her.
‘Miss,’ he said, ‘d’you know who we’ll be having for our teacher next term?’
‘No, I don’t – but I expect she’ll be very nice. And I’m sure you’ll work hard for her, won’t you?’
‘Yes, miss.’ He paused. ‘I wish you wusn’t going, miss.’
She did not know what to say. It was at moments like these that she wondered whether she was doing the right thing. But it was too late now – and in any case she could not have remained, with the situation as Carstairs would have it.
‘They say you’re goin’ up to London, miss. Is that right?’
‘That’s right, Tom. I leave tomorrow.’
‘Will you be glad to go, miss?’
‘In some ways. In some ways perhaps not.’
‘London’s a big place, so they say.’
‘Oh, it is indeed.’
‘Are you going to be a schoolteacher in London, miss?’
‘Well – not in a school, Tom. Not right away, at any rate. I’m going to be a governess.’
‘To a rich family, miss?’
‘Well, I don’t know how rich they are.’
‘D’you think you’ll ever come back – to Flaxdown?’
‘Oh, yes, no doubt of that. One day.’
He gave her a grave smile. ‘Maybe I’ll see you again, then.’
‘I hope so, Tom.’
A little silence, then, ‘Well – goodbye, miss.’
‘Goodbye, Tom.’
They stood facing one another for a moment without moving, then she put out her hand. Solemnly he took it. ‘You look after yourself, Tom.’
‘Yes, miss. And you, miss.’
‘I will.’
When he had gone Abbie continued clearing her things from inside her desk. Afterwards she stood looking around her. It was for the last time; she would never come to this classroom again. Gazing about her at the maps, diagrams and pictures on the walls, she thought of the happy times she had known here. After some moments she moved to the door, opened it and went outside into the yard. The March sun was bright, though there was a sharp east wind that caught at her hair and moved her skirt. The yard was quiet now, but this was not how she would think of it. She would remember it echoing with the voices of the children.
In the cottage she set down her things. The kitchen, like the other rooms, had a bare look about it. Over the past week she had packed her box and her trunk. She would be taking to London only those things she regarded as essential – the rest of her belongings she had given to Violet to share between herself and Lizzie and Iris. When she left tomorrow this part of her life would be at an end.
She made tea and sat drinking it at the kitchen table. Eddie would be coming for her in the morning, driving Mr White’s pony and trap to take her to the station at Frome, where she would board the train for London. Everything was set now for her departure. At times over the past weeks it had seemed as if the end of term would never come. Yet at other times the days had seemed to pass too swiftly. She had had much to do – not least in the business of finding employment in the capital. She had achieved it without too much difficulty, however. Following correspondence with prospective employers and the submission of her references – Mr Carstairs had not been able to prevent the School Board giving her work a positive endorsement – she had travelled to the south-London suburb of Balham in mid-February to meet a barrister and his wife and two small daughters. It had been a satisfactory meeting and she had been engaged to begin her work there at Easter.
On her return to Flaxdown she had at once written to Jane telling of her new employment. Very soon, she had added, they would be meeting again. After finishing her letter to Jane she had taken up her pen once more and written to Arthur.
In her letter she told him that her mother had died the previous summer and that since that time her own situation had become intolerable – to the extent, she said, that she had been forced to leave her teaching post and seek employment elsewhere. As a result, she would be arriving in London at Easter to take up duties as resident governess to two children in Balham. She ended her letter saying:
I’m sure you must be surprised at hearing this voice from the past! Though I do hope that it is not a voice you have forgotten. I remind myself, however, that little more than a year has gone by since last we met – though it is a year which for me has seen many changes.
Perhaps, once I am in London and settled to some little degree, we might meet for a chat – if you would like that. I know I shall be glad to see a familiar, friendly face.
Arthur had written back saying that he had been surprised to hear from her – though nevertheless pleased. He was very sorry to hear about her mother, he said, and yes, of course, once Abbie was settled in London they must find an opportunity to meet.
With her packing more or less finished, Abbie left the cottage to pay a visit to Eddie and Violet and the babies. After remaining with them for a while she set off for Tomkins Row to call on Mrs Carroll and wish her goodbye. On leaving she promised to give her love to Jane at the first opportunity.
She had crossed the green and was just about to turn into School Lane when she heard behind her the sound of a horse and carriage, then the sound of her name. Turning, she saw that the driver was Louis.
She stopped, smiling at him, at the same time feeling a slight sensation of guilt; she had not been in touch with him since her trip to London when he had called on her and she had told him the result of her interview. When they had parted at that time she had promised to write to him so that they could meet again before her departure for the capital. She had not done so.
Now Louis brought the cob to a halt beside her, gave a theatrical sigh and said with an ironic smile, ‘I’ve concluded that if Mohammed won’t come to the mountain, the mountain must go to Mohammed.’ With a sad shake of his head he added, ‘You were going to write to me to arrange a meeting.’
‘Oh, Louis,’ she said, ‘you’re reproving me.’
He nodded. ‘Am I wrong to do so?’
‘No, you’re quite justified. It’s simply that I’ve been so busy with all my preparations.’
He glanced up at the sky. ‘It’s a lovely evening. Would you care to go for a drive?’
‘But – oh, I’ve got so much to do.’
‘Just for half an hour or so.’
‘Well, all right – just for half an hour. Then I must get back.’
‘I guarantee it.’
He helped her up into the carriage and they set off. As they drove he turned to her and said, ‘So would you have gone off to London without even saying goodbye? Shame on you.’
‘No, of course not,’ she protested, though as she spoke she could not look him in the eye. ‘Oh, Louis,’ she added, smoothing her hair, ‘you can’t imagine how the time has flown.’
‘Ah, Abbie . . .’ He shook his head. ‘Excuses, excuses.’ He turned, took in her expression and said, ‘Oh, come on, there’s no need to look like that.’
‘Like what? How do I look?’
‘Forget it. Let’s not pursue it.’
Abbie could think of nothing to say, and in a rather awkward silence they skirted the western border of the green and headed towards the edge of the village. As they left the dwellings behind them Louis said without looking at her, ‘I shall miss you, Abbie. And I still can’t think for the life of me why you have to go and live in London.’
‘Well, I have a job there,’ she said.
‘You do now, yes. But I’m sure you could easily have found employment nearer at hand. It isn’t as if work for governesses can only be had in London.’
‘Perhaps so, but what is there to keep me here?’
‘That’s a question only you can answer. And if you can ask it in the first place then I suppose the answer is clear.’
‘I – I’ve got to make something of my life,’ she said after a moment. ‘I must.’
‘And you think you’ll do that by becoming a governess in London?’ Then he added quickly, ‘I know I shouldn’t be talking like this. It’s just that I can’t understand why you have to go running off this way.’