Winter Solstice (45 page)

She couldn’t think of anything else to tell him, and was painfully aware that it all sounded very dull.

After a bit he asked, “Are you homesick?”

She looked at him in astonishment.

“Homesick?”

“Well, you know … missing your mother. Your things. Everything. Clodagh’s hopeless. She won’t even go away for a night, bawls like a baby.”

“No,” Lucy heard her own voice, all at once surprisingly sharp and strong.

“No, I’m not homesick. I’m not even thinking about going back to London. I’m simply putting it out of my mind.”

“But…”

“You don’t understand. It’s not like here. It’s not like this house. Like your house. Full of people and friends your own age coming and going. It’s my grandmother’s flat, and she doesn’t want my friends around the place. She gets headaches, she says. Sometimes Emma comes, but Gran doesn’t really like her much, and so it’s always a bit tense, and we spend most of the time in my room. Once she came, and both Mummy and Gran were out, so we spent the whole afternoon in the bath, washing our hair and putting on scent and painting our toenails with silver polish. When I’m in Emma’s house, it doesn’t seem to matter what we do. Her mother’s out most of the time, working. She edits a magazine. And the au pair is usually quite fun and lets us cook and make disgusting puddings.”

She stopped, giving Rory an opportunity to comment in some way on this flood of confidence, but he said nothing. After a bit, Lucy went on.

“It’s so different here. You can do anything, and if there’s nothing to do, you can go out and shop and walk about, or go to the beach, or exploring, or out at night and nobody stops you. And here, they all call me duck, or darling, but at the same time they treat me like a grownup. As though I were a person, not a child. Gran and Mummy call me Lucy. Just that. But I never feel I’m a proper person. I’m fourteen now, and sometimes I feel I’ve done nothing except go to school. It wouldn’t be so bad if I had a brother or a sister.

“Specially a brother. Because just being with women all the time can be dreadfully lowering. They talk about such unimportant things. Like clothes, or restaurants, or other people….”

“Where do you go to school?”

“It’s called Stanbrook. Quite near where we live. I get the tube, two stops. I really like it, and the teachers, the head; and I met Emma there. We do things like go to concerts and art exhibitions, and we go swimming and do games in the park. But it’s all-girls, and sometimes I think it would be really fun to go to a comprehensive. You’d meet so many different people.”

Rory said, “How about your father?”

“I don’t see him much, because Mummy doesn’t like me seeing him; and anyway he’s got a new wife, and she doesn’t want me around much either. I’ve got a grandfather, called Jeffrey Sutton. He’s Carrie’s father. But he lives in Cornwall with a new young wife and two little new children.”

“Can’t you go and stay there?”

“Yes, I could, but Gran’s bitter about him, and unforgiving, and his name is scarcely ever mentioned. One day I’ll really be brave and strong and say I want to go and stay. But I suppose I’ll have to wait until I’m a bit older to do that.”

“You don’t have to wait. You have to do it now”

“I think,” said Lucy sadly, “I haven’t the nerve. I simply hate rows and asserting myself. I did have one row with Mummy and Gran about having my ears pierced. Everyone at school has got pierced ears, but they wouldn’t let me. It’s such a little thing, but the row went on for days, and I couldn’t bear it, so I just caved in. I’m dreadfully feeble about things like that.”

Rory said, “I think you’d look good with pierced ears. You could have gold rings.” He grinned.

“Like me.”

“I wouldn’t just have one. I’d have two.”

“Get them done here. There’s a jeweller in Kingsferry.”

“My mother would die.”

“Your mother’s in America?”

“How did you know that?”

“Elfrida told Ma and she told me.”

“She’s got a boyfriend, Randall Fischer. She’s in Florida with him. She went for Christmas. That’s why I came here with Carrie. I was asked, too, but I didn’t want to go. I’d just have been in the way. Besides,” she added, “I don’t really like him much.”

He said nothing to this, and it occurred to Lucy that he was very good at listening. She wondered if this gift came naturally to him, or whether his father had taught him the importance of silence at the appropriate time. And she remembered that day in London when Carrie had suddenly appeared, just when Lucy was yearning for a confidante. She had thought that she could talk to Carrie, could open her heart to her, but Carrie, returning from Austria, was obscurely different, and clearly in no mood for confidences. Withdrawn, perhaps, was the word, as though some part of her had stayed in another place. But Rory Kennedy was different. Rory had time to listen, and was clearly sympathetic. Lucy found herself filled with grateful affection.

She said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say all this. It’s just that it’s all been so much fun. Being with Elfrida and Oscar, and learning to do reels, and all the other people of my own age. And thinking that Christmas this year is going to be a real one, and not just eating roast pheasant with Mummy and Gran, or even going out to some boring restaurant because they can’t be bothered to cook. And the snow and everything. And the church. And the fairy lights going up….”

Her voice trailed away. She was finished. There was nothing more to say. She thought of the flat and London, and then stuffed the image away at the back of her mind and slammed down an imaginary lid. There was no point remembering. No point thinking about having to return. No point in spoiling this moment, this hour, this day. Now.

He was watching her. She met his eyes, and smiled. He said, “Do you want to come sledging this afternoon?”

“Are you going?”

“Why not? I’ll ring up some of the others. We’ll go to the golf course… there are some really good slopes.” He glanced at his watch.

“It’s nearly twelve. We’ll need to get off early, before it gets dark. How about you come back home with me now and we’ll get my ma to give us some food, and get hold of the others?”

Lucy said, “I haven’t got a sledge.”

“We’ve got three or four in the garage. You can borrow one of those.” He pulled himself to his feet.

“Come on.”

“But won’t your mother… ?”

“We, she won’t mind. She won’t complain, and there’ll be enough food to feed an army. There always is.” He reached down and took her arm and hauled Lucy to her feet.

“Stop being so worried,” he told her.

“Stop putting difficulties in your own way.”

“Is that what I’m doing?”

“Not any more.”

The Kingsferry shopping expedition had been highly successful. Not only had Sam and Came brought back with them a load of cardboard boxes stuffed with food, vegetables, cereals, fruit, and Christmas goodies, but boxes of wine, crates of beer, mixers, Coke, and six bottles of Grouse whisky. Moreover, they had managed to run down the whereabouts of the Gent’s Outfitters, where Sam had kit ted himself out with a wardrobe of country clothes-corduroy trousers, warm shirts, a thick ribbed sweater, a pair of Timberland boots, and a Barbour jacket.

Sam put his new clothes on for lunch, and they all admired his suave and casual appearance. After lunch, he shrugged himself into his Barbour, and he and Oscar set off to walk to the Golf Club, where Sam had made an appointment with the secretary, because he wished to talk about the possibility of becoming a member. Elfrida, watching them go as they strode side by side down the snowy pavement, thought that they looked companionable. It was good for Oscar to have a bit of masculine company.

So she and Carrie were left to prepare for the arrival, at four o’clock, of Sir James Erskine-Earle. The first thing to decide was where they should give him his tea. Elfrida thought the kitchen … no point in standing on ceremony. But Carrie said that was all right for someone you knew, but perhaps Sir James would be a bit put out if asked to put his knees under the kitchen table and drink his tea from a mug.

Elfrida saw her point.

“Then we’ll have it in the sitting-room.”

“What, all perched around the fireside?”

“Why not?”

“Men hate perching. Unless they’re trained to it, like vicars. They can’t manage cups, saucers, and fairy cakes all at the same time.

Let’s have it on the table in the bay window … all laid out and proper, like Mother used to do.”

“I shall have to find a dainty tea cloth “Bet there’s one lurking in Mrs. Snead’s cupboard. Shall I make some scones?”

Elfrida was impressed.

“Can you?”

“Of course. And you can go and buy iced fancies from the baker.”

Elfrida put on her blanket coat and went. The baker didn’t sell iced fancies, but had ginger breads instead, so she bought one, and a jar of home-made bramble jelly.

“Are you having a party, Mrs. Phipps?” asked the girl, giving Elfrida her change. And Elfrida said, no, not exactly, just somebody coming for afternoon tea.

Back at the Estate House, Carrie’s scones were already in the oven and smelling delicious. Elfrida produced the gingerbread and the jam, found a tray, and stacked it with the best, if mismatched, plates, cups, and saucers. She found a sugar-bowl and a butter dish, and even a butter-knife.

“We are going to be very genteel,” she said. She found teaspoons, and gave the inside of the teapot a good scour.

Upstairs, she unearthed a tea-cloth from Mrs. Snead’s linen cupboard. Starched and ironed, it looked quite festive spread upon the old table. She laid out five plates and small knives, the cups and saucers, the butter dish, and the jam jar. There weren’t any flowers, but perhaps Sir James Erskine Earle wouldn’t mind too much about that.

She turned from the table with the empty tray in her hand and looked across the room at her little picture, which, perhaps, after today, would be gone forever. It was hanging very slightly crooked, so she went over to set it straight, giving it a loving pat, as though it were a child encouraged to be on its best behaviour.

“If I may not have time to say goodbye,” she told it, “I will now. It’s been lovely having you.”

Oscar and Sam returned from the Golf Club in good time, and good heart. The interview with the club secretary had been satisfactory. Sam had been told that there was a waiting list for members, but as he was going to be a resident of Buddy, it would probably be possible to jump the queue. They had been introduced to the captain and a few other members, admired portraits and trophies, and then walked home.

Oscar had, clearly, enjoyed his small outing. Recalling his only other visit to the Golf Club, which had ended so disastrously with a panic-stricken escape, Elfrida gave silent thanks and wanted to hug him. But instead she went upstairs to comb her flaming hair and put on another layer of lipstick.

When he came, on the dot of four o’clock, Sir James Erskine-Earle was something of a surprise. The front-door bell shrilled and Elfrida ran down to let him in, and was a little taken aback to be faced by a man so young. And although he had come straight from some meeting about the War Memorial, he was attired as though for gardening, in elderly tweed knickerbockers and a jacket that seemed to have lost most of its buttons. His shirt collar was frayed and his V-necked pullover had a small hole in it. When she opened the door he removed his tweed cap, and she saw his mousy hair, cut like a schoolboy’s.

“Mrs. Phipps?”

“Yes. Sir James …” They shook hands.

“Please come in.” Leading him upstairs, “It is so good of you to come at such short notice,” she said.

“Not at all.” He had a charming voice and an ingenuous smile.

“I always enjoy such occasions, when I am asked to cast my eye over something special.”

She led him into the sitting-room and introduced him to the others, who were all standing about looking a bit ill at ease, as though it were they whom Sir James Erskine Earle had come to appraise.

“Oscar Blundell. And Carrie, my niece. And Sam Howard, who is coming to run the old woollen mill in Buddy.”

“We spoke on the phone, I think. How splendid to meet you. You’re with Sturrock and Swinfield? I was at Eton with one of the Swinfields, but I think not your chairman.” He looked about him.

“This is a most surprising house. From the outside one has no idea of its splendour. It was part of Corrydale, I understand.”

“Yes, but hasn’t been for some years,” Oscar told him.

“Perhaps you knew my uncle, Hector McLennan?”

“No, not well. I was working in London for some years. I didn’t come north until my father died and we all came to live at Kingsferry. Bit of a culture shock for my family, but they seem to have taken it in their stride.” He moved, inevitably, over to the window, as newcomers always did. It was dark, but Elfrida had not drawn the curtains, and across the street the twinkling Christmas fairy lights shone like jewels against the old stone face of the church.

“What an outlook. And so close to the church. You must be able to hear the organ from here. Marvellous instrument. We’re so fortunate….” He turned back to face them all.

“But I mustn’t waste your time rubber-necking. Where is this picture you want me to see?”

“It’s …” Elfrida cleared her throat.

“It’s here.”

“I see. In solitary state.”

“We have no other pictures.”

“May I take it down?”

“But of course.”

He crossed the room, gently took the frame in his hands and lifted it down, holding it as delicately as if it were a piece of the finest porcelain.

“What a lovely thing.” He tilted it beneath the light of the lamp that stood on Oscar’s table.

“Sir David Wilkie.”

“Yes. I’ve always believed so.”

“A portrait of his parents. Did you know that? Painted, I suppose, about 1835.”

“I didn’t know it was his parents. I thought just a sweet elderly couple.”

A silence fell. All faintly unnerved, they waited for his verdict. Sir James Erskine-Earle took his time, first reaching into the pocket of his reprehensible jacket to bring out a pair of rimless spectacles. Putting these on, he now resembled a young and penniless student. Perhaps a medical student, for his hands were as sensitive as a surgeon’s. Peering, he examined. Touched with his fingertips, turned the painting over, and closely inspected the back.