Holding On (24 page)

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Authors: Marcia Willett

BOOK: Holding On
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‘'Tisn't mine, if you take my meaning, sir. Sixty years I've been in the gatehouse cottage and it's my home. It's all I've got that's mine. I know where to lay my hand to any little thing, you see. This, well, it's right smart and cosy, but it isn't
mine
.'
This last had come out in a kind of wail, and Theo had felt Caroline's distress emanating from the doorway behind him. He'd emptied his mind and waited for assistance. It came swiftly.
‘I quite understand, my dear fellow,' he'd said compassionately but firmly, ‘but we must do what is best for you and for others, too. We care about you, you see. You must allow us to look after you as best we can. Poor Caroline can't be expected to do that properly if you stay in the gatehouse. Remember when we moved Ellen down from the nursery wing to the first floor? It was exactly the same thing. She was getting too old to be toiling up and down two flights of stairs and three small children were simply too much for her. Poor Ellen felt not only displaced by Caroline but also as if she were intruding into the family's private quarters. To begin with she was very upset by it all but she was sensible enough to know that it was best for her and for the rest of the family. Sometimes one person must give way before the needs of the whole community. Remember how quickly she adapted? She soon felt quite at home. I am quite certain that you will feel just the same if you will only give it a try. Will you do that for me? Give it a try? If it doesn't work you shall go back to the gatehouse cottage. You have my word. What do you say?'
Whilst he was talking he'd felt a stiffening of Fox's spine, a strengthening of will, and he'd turned to smile reassuringly at Caroline.
‘Whatever would she be thinking of me?' exclaimed Fox remorsefully. ‘Making a fuss like I was no bigger than they twinnies. And this room got up so nice and Caroline ready to give it up. Proper ungrateful I be . . .'
‘She'd've said, “Stay in that damp old cottage when you can be in this warm room? Whatever next, I wonder.” ' Caroline had come forward and was standing beside him, pretending not to see the tears on his cheeks. ‘Mind you, we haven't got all your bits and pieces over yet. I thought you'd want to arrange those yourself. We could hang that nice framed photograph Mole gave you of his submarine on the wall. I hope you'll let me spend the evenings here with you as usual. Think what fun it'll be watching television by the fire and not having to go out in the cold and dark afterwards. And you can make yourself a cup of tea in the kitchen when you can't sleep, and chat to Perks.'
‘You do have a point there, maid,' Fox had agreed, rather struck by the thought of such riotous and luxurious living. ‘And my mum's old chest'd fit a treat at the bottom of the bed . . .'
Theo had gone quietly away, leaving them discussing the final domestic details together.
Now, as he prepared to go down to breakfast, he wondered what they would have done without Caroline's good sense and capacity for hard work, her loyalty and love. As he passed his desk, on his way out, a piece of paper drifted to the floor and he bent to pick it up. Looking at his small clear writing he remembered that he'd copied the prayer out for Fox but had not yet given it to him, although he could not now recall why he'd thought it might be of benefit to him. It was part of one of the Sayings of St John of the Cross: a prayer of a soul in love.
Who can free himself from his meanness and limitations,
If
you
do not lift him to yourself, my God, in purity of love?
How will a person
brought to birth and nurtured in a world of small horizons,
rise up to you Lord,
if
you
do not raise him by your hand which made him? . . .
so I shall rejoice:
you will not delay, if I do not fail to hope.
Theo read it, moved as he always was by the yearning and the promise. Why had he decided to write it out for Fox? He shook his head; it was not important. If it were meant for him then the appropriate moment would arise. Tucking the paper into his Bible, Theo left his rooms and went downstairs to breakfast, still thinking about Fox.
 
‘He's happy as a sandboy,' Caroline told Fliss a week or so later. ‘Luckily, he hasn't much in the way of belongings – quite spartan he is – so we were able to fit in all his treasures. We've left the cottage looking neat and tidy, though, so it doesn't depress him when he pops over. He still uses his workshop although he can do so little now. His poor old hands . . .'
She shook her head sadly. Fliss, sitting opposite at the kitchen table, was remembering all the toys which Fox had mended and made in the past; the bicycles oiled and polished.
‘He says he's making a bird table for Susanna,' she said doubtfully.
‘Oh, he is,' Caroline assured her. ‘Very, very slowly and with rather a lot of assistance from Josh.' She grimaced. ‘And that's another story.'
‘Why? What's the matter with Josh?' Fliss settled herself more comfortably, glancing at her watch. The twinnies were in with Fox, watching
Play School
, whilst she and Caroline had some coffee and a gossip. She enjoyed these moments, catching up with the life of The Keep, shedding the odd sense of isolation that she felt when she was away from it.
‘You remember he married a local girl a year or two ago?' Caroline frowned, racking her memory. ‘He always calls her “the missis” and I never can recall her name. Anyway, he's been making noises lately along the lines that he needs more money. I let it go for a bit, trying to decide what might be best before worrying Mrs Chadwick, but when we cleared out the gatehouse cottage that day I had a brainwave and asked Josh what he'd say to living there rent free in return for full-time employment.' She paused, anxious lest Fliss thought that she'd taken rather too much on herself. ‘I was just testing the water,' she explained. ‘Just getting an idea of what he might be prepared to do.'
‘What did he say?' asked Fliss curiously. ‘I can't imagine Josh in the gatehouse cottage somehow.'
‘Neither could Josh,' said Caroline drily. ‘He laughed and laughed. “I can just see my missis giving up her nice council house to live in this damp old place,” he said. And went on to tell me that he was definitely putting his rates up. There's a baby on the way, I gather.'
‘So what now?'
Caroline shrugged. ‘He'll give us two days a week for the same pay as four,' she said. ‘“That's some increase!” I told him, but he doesn't care. He's got lots of people after him and I have the feeling that Mrs Josh rides him a bit hard.'
‘But how will you manage?' asked Fliss, concerned. ‘You do far too much as it is. Can't we afford to have him more often?'
Caroline shrugged. ‘I haven't spoken to Mrs Chadwick yet. Of course there's a terrific difference in having someone who lives in. Fox never stuck to an eight-hour day. He was always about, carrying out some work or other from the moment he got up until he went to bed. Not just gardening but all the maintenance as well. Josh won't do all the things that Fox did. Look, I'm not saying that Fox was exploited. He loved it. This was his home. He took pride in its upkeep and you were his family. But I'm afraid things aren't like that any more.'
‘You must speak to Grandmother,' insisted Fliss. ‘You simply mustn't take on any more yourself. You do far too much as it is.'
Caroline smiled at her. ‘I'm like Fox,' she said. ‘This is my home, too, and you're my family. And speaking of family, have you spoken to Kit lately?'
Fliss was distracted from the worries of running The Keep by the mention of her cousin. ‘Not for any length. Not since she came to stay with me for a few days,' she said. ‘She talked about coming down . . .?'
Caroline nodded, rightly interpreting Fliss's hesitation. ‘Yes, she came for the weekend. I'm glad you warned us about Jake. She's lost weight and there was something different about her. She was so quiet, really subdued. Poor Kit. She didn't get in the dog basket once.'
Neither of them smiled at this statement; both were silent, thinking about Kit.
‘Why did I take so long to grow up?' she'd asked Fliss miserably. ‘God, I've been such a fool . . .'
‘Is there no chance he might change his mind?' Caroline was asking. ‘He's loved her for so long.'
‘The girl, Madeleine, is having his child,' explained Fliss. ‘He feels he can't simply abandon her. The family is very keen on the match, you know, so he's under a lot of pressure. She's quite a lot younger than he is and he feels terribly guilty about it all. Of course they're both Roman Catholics so there's no question of an abortion.'
‘Of course not,' said Caroline quickly. ‘No, I was simply thinking that there might be some other relative who would bring up the child. He's taking such a risk, marrying a young girl when he's in love with someone else. Does she know about Kit?'
‘She's met her.' Fliss's sympathies disloyally reached out to the little French girl who'd loved her big cousin for so long, who'd given him comfort and was now carrying his child. ‘The French aren't so strait-laced about cousins marrying,' Kit had told her. ‘Pity you and Hal weren't French, little coz . . .' Fliss swallowed the last of her coffee and pushed back her chair.
‘Poor child.' Caroline remained sitting at the table whilst Fliss washed out her mug and set it on the draining board. ‘And poor Kit. Oh, why must life be so complicated?'
Before Fliss could answer, however, the door opened and the twinnies came in, followed more slowly by Fox, and Caroline's question remained unanswered.
Chapter Twenty-two
‘Oh, what shall we do?' cried Prue, tucking her feet under her and settling into the corner of the sofa. ‘She's so thin and she looks so . . . oh, I don't know, gaunt and hollow-eyed. How can life be so cruel?'
‘Terribly easily,' answered Sin, pouring drinks. ‘It's had so much practice, hasn't it?'
Prue accepted her glass gratefully but she still frowned. ‘It's her own fault, that's the problem. Whatever we do or say she's going to kick herself for the rest of her life. After all, he waited long enough for her. Oh, I can't believe it.'
‘The timing is horrendous,' agreed Sin. ‘Poor Kit is trying to put a brave face on it but she's devastated. It's not just that she's realised that she's in love with him. He's also been her best friend for twelve years. She's losing that, too.'
‘What can we do?' asked Prue for tenth time. ‘I can't bear to see her so unhappy. She says she won't come to The Keep for Christmas. Do you think she'd like to come to me in Bristol?'
Sin sat down at the other end of the sofa. ‘Look,' she said. ‘I hope you won't be upset but I think it's best if she gets right away. It'll be hell for her with everyone feeling sorry for her and being tactful and things. So I'm taking her to Spain, just over the French border in the foothills of the Pyrenees. I've got friends there who will be delighted to have us and I think it'll be better for Kit. It's quite a big house party, lots of jolly people. It'll be snowy and cold and fun. Do you mind?'
‘Dear Sin,' said Prue, tears threatening. ‘How on earth could I mind? You've been such a chum. Talk about Jake being her best friend . . .'
‘Well,' Sin shrugged away her thanks, ‘it'll be a change for me, too. I'm not sure that The Keep would be quite right for either of us at the moment. How's Hal?'
‘Funny you should mention Hal,' said Prue, distracted just as Sin had intended. ‘There was the oddest atmosphere when I was there last. The boys are simply heaven, of course, but Maria was in a very strange mood. Almost snappy, even to me.'
‘Pregnant again?' enquired Sin.
Prue looked thoughtful, wrinkled her nose, pursed her lips and finally shook her head. ‘Could be. But she wasn't like that either time before. They didn't say anything to me about it, of course, but I could see that Hal was edgy. Such a pity. I did hope that their holiday would do them good but all I can say is that Maria seemed terribly pleased to be home again.'
‘Perhaps she missed the boys?' hazarded Sin.
‘Perhaps.' Prue reached for her bag and pulled out her cigarettes. ‘I must say that she was most unsympathetic about Kit. She said that she'd asked for it and that it was time she grew up a bit and thought about the future.' Prue blew smoke in the air and balanced an ashtray on the arm of the chair. ‘Hal said something about Kit always living in the present and Maria snapped that she should take a lesson from the story about the wise and foolish virgins with their oil and so on.'
‘How extraordinarily smug,' remarked Sin. ‘And what then?'
Prue began to chuckle. ‘Hal was a bit cross at her attitude and said that any man in his right mind would much prefer to be out in the dark with the ten foolish virgins, and Maria flounced off in a temper.'
Sin laughed. ‘So they won't be going to The Keep either for Christmas?'
Prue shook her head. ‘Hal's Captain lives in Kent and he's going home, which means that the First Lieutenant has to stay within half an hour of the ship in case there's an emergency. So they'll be spending Christmas at home, which is no bad thing. I think that small children should be in their own homes for Christmas. It was only as the twins grew older and needed company of their own age that I started to go to The Keep. Although we always went each summer.'
‘So where shall you spend the festive season? With Hal and Maria?'
Prue sipped at her gin thoughtfully. ‘Apparently not.'

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