The Courtyard (38 page)

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Authors: Marcia Willett

BOOK: The Courtyard
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‘I don't understand,' she whispered at last. ‘How can it be … ? Do you mean … ? I don't understand!' she cried almost angrily and her lips trembled.
‘Elizabeth bought the cottage from Mr Jackson,' explained Richard, still gently, understanding her conflict of emotions. ‘She knew how much the Courtyard feared the wrong people moving in,
so she decided to protect them as far as she could and meanwhile intended to leave it to you. Although she had no idea, then, that it would be so soon. I acted for her. She was delighted when you decided to move in. Her one fear was that it would be too claustrophobic for you, after the Lodge.'
‘But why?' Nell's brain was reeling as she tried to understand. ‘Why should she leave it to me?'
Richard looked away from her. He'd been rather surprised himself at the measure of Elizabeth's generosity to this woman whom she'd met so recently. The sum she'd left for the running of the business was almost ludicrously large … He realised that he was feeling jealous and controlled himself.
‘She had become very fond of you,' he said, ‘and she was so happy to know that you would continue with the business. That meant an enormous amount to her. She wanted to feel that you were as secure as you could be so that you could forge ahead without too many distractions. You've got an awful lot on your plate.'
‘But to leave me a whole house …' Nell was stunned.
‘Absolutely and entirely yours to do with as you please,' said Richard as cheerfully as he could. ‘She had no family, you know. No relatives. The residue of her estate goes to Gillian so she's not going to complain.' He raised his eyebrows at her. ‘You had no idea she owned this cottage?'
‘None!' cried Nell. ‘We all thought it was someone from upcountry and, for some reason, we all imagined it was a man. We were surprised at how many rules and regulations he made, though. I felt tremendously lucky to get in.'
‘That was her way of keeping it empty for as long as possible. She rather looked on your attack as a blessing in disguise. Once she knew you had recovered, that is.' He remembered her anxiety and felt again the worm of jealousy gnawing at his entrails. ‘As I said, she was very fond of you,' he said again, with an effort.
Nell looked at him. ‘I loved Elizabeth,' she said firmly. ‘I really
loved her. And not just because she'd given me nearly everything I have that I most cherish. She was strong and … and truthful. With herself as well as others. I shall never forget her. Or what I owe her and I shall try to repay it by making the business succeed.'
Richard stared back at her and his eyes filled with tears. He remembered how he had accused and reproached Elizabeth during this last year and his mouth twisted. Nell saw his emotion and sprang to her feet.
‘Thank you for coming,' she said in a high clear voice. ‘I'd like to be alone if you don't mind, to take it all in. We'll meet soon, won't we?'
He nodded, not trusting himself to speak, recognising in her Elizabeth's dislike of public displays of emotion and feeling a last bitter twist of resentment.
‘Very soon,' he said. ‘I'll let myself out.'
Nell stood perfectly still until she heard the front door slam. Her eyes fell on the Deeds to the cottage and, sitting down at the table, she laid her head upon her arms and broke into a violent storm of tears.
 
 
THE NEWS OF ELIZABETH'S death touched everyone at Nethercombe. Each of them had known her to a greater or lesser degree and they all felt the loss. Gillian, who alone knew how very, very much she owed to her godmother, especially since her return from France, was quite simply stunned with shock. She wasn't hurt that Elizabeth hadn't warned her, she knew her too well to expect that, but she felt an almost unbearable regret when she thought of all the things she longed to say to her which, now, would never be said. She remembered how she had taken her generosity and repaid it with contempt and how she had wondered, avariciously, whether Elizabeth would leave her the house in her will, and her tears were bitter. Well, she had left her the house, as well as everything in it, and money, too, and they were as heaped coals on Gillian's repentant head.
Amongst the papers and documents was a letter. It was addressed to her in Elizabeth's elegant hand and Gillian opened it, her eyes eagerly scanning the lines. ‘ … and I can imagine exactly how you're feeling.' Gillian could almost hear Elizabeth's cool amused voice. ‘Please don't tear yourself apart with useless remorse. I've always been extremely fond of you, my dear Gillian, despite – occasionally – apparent evidence to the contrary and I was always very pleased to be able to help you out of your difficulties.' Gillian's eyes filled with tears.
I want to say how impressed I've been with your behaviour since your return from France, both as a wife and mother and
also as a friend to Nell, and you will see that I've carried out your instructions and Nell now owns the cottage in the Courtyard, although only you and I know that this suggestion came from you when I took you into my confidence and admitted that I was the owner. It hasn't been easy for you, I know that. You'll carry the guilt with you always but that need not necessarily be a negative thing. It's usually the bad experiences which happen to us that – used wisely – can strengthen us and help us to grow. You're doing just that and I'm very proud of you …
Gillian dropped the sheet, covered her face with her hands and wept in earnest.
Lydia, on the other hand, was very hurt indeed that Elizabeth hadn't forewarned her of her death.
‘I was her oldest friend,' she sobbed to the distressed Charles. ‘I've known her since we were at school together. How could she let me hear it like that from Richard? She told him! And he was only her accountant!'
‘It can't be an easy thing,' said the reasonable Charles. ‘Maybe she loved you too much to be able to bear your grief.'
At this, Lydia's sobs burst out afresh and he held her close and passed her his handkerchief.
‘She couldn't bear scenes,' she admitted tearfully. ‘But I would have liked to say goodbye to her …' The mere thought of the emotional luxury that had been denied her set her off again until the realisation that never again would she see that elegant figure standing at her door made her really weep with such sincere grief that Charles began to be seriously worried and she tried, for his sake, to pull herself together. ‘Gillian will be here soon,' she began, struggling to her feet but, even as she spoke, there was a tap at the door and Gillian came in.
They took one look at each other and flew into the other's arms
and Charles, retreating thankfully into the kitchen, put the kettle on for some coffee and gazed out into the garden, whistling through his teeth and waiting for the storm to pass.
In the end it was decided that the truth should be told about Nell's cottage. She couldn't go on pretending to be renting it from some mythical landlord and she and Gillian agreed that it should be explained that it was a part of the business. Everyone was far too delighted at Nell's good fortune to be particularly interested in the details and Nell, for the first time, felt that she could take her place in the Courtyard on equal terms with the other residents. Richard had put his bitterness to one side and was giving her all the support he could and she was beginning, once again, to have the confidence to believe that she could make the business work.
By midsummer everyone's emotions were still raw but much more under control and it was agreed that the Midsummer's Eve party should go forward as usual, and, slowly, grief was put aside and they began to look forward to it.
 
GUY, WHO WAS PROBABLY the one least affected by Elizabeth's death, was looking forward, even more, to having Gemma home again. He had thrown all his native caution to the winds and could see no reason why he and Gemma should not get married as soon as possible. If there were to be parental opposition because of Gemma's tender years, he was prepared to overcome it. After all, both their mothers had been married practically from school and it wasn't as though he intended to prevent Gemma from pursuing a career. Now that she had qualified, he could see no point in their continuing to be apart. He had no fears that there would be any other grounds for anxiety. Their mothers had been close friends all their lives and he knew that they were delighted at the idea of the union between the two families. He longed to have Gemma with him in the Courtyard and, between them, they were tentatively planning a Christmas wedding.
Everyone at Nethercombe was prepared to egg them on and when the summer term was over and Gemma came over, driving as usual in her little car, they were almost as pleased to see her as Guy was and he had to drag her away for a walk in the woods so as to have her to himself.
 
THE BERESFORDS HAD ALREADY arrived and the usual preparations started to go forward. It was really a very special year; Nell settled and Thomas approaching his first birthday. Mrs Ridley and Joan were closeted as usual in the kitchen and Mr Ridley and Bill were organising the coloured lights. Gillian gave the summerhouse a good cleaning whilst Thomas, sitting safely in a playpen at the side of the pool, chuckled good-naturedly at their antics.
‘It's such a pity that Jack can't be here,' said Nell, tying her balloons to the rhododendron branches.
‘Oh, it is,' sympathised Gemma, who was setting out the chairs. ‘Couldn't he get time off or something? He's the only one missing.'
‘No, no,' said Nell. ‘They're terribly strict. Never mind. He comes to the Christmas party and that's probably more his style. He can't wait to see Thomas again. He grows so fast.'
Gillian glanced anxiously at her, on the lookout for any signs of grief, but Nell looked contented and at peace and Gillian sighed with relief.
They drifted away on their various paths and the swimming pool lay placidly beneath the clear skies, waiting to come into its own when the dusk deepened.
 
GUSSIE, STARING OUT OF her window, was looking forward to dusk falling, the first faint stars twinkling in a darker sky and Mr Ridley pulling the switch that would make the fairy lights around the pool glow like fireflies in the bushes.
‘ … and we are so very, very blessed, Lord,' she continued aloud for, increasingly these days, she spent her time in communication with the Almighty, ‘that it is almost too much to bear. Even while
I talk to You and look out on all this beauty, someone is being murdered and people are killing each other and others are dying of terrible diseases. Yet how are we to know, Lord, what might be in store for us? We must accept the good things that are given to us gladly and without fear and go forward in hope and faith …'
There was a knock at the door and Henry put his head round.
‘Thought I heard voices,' he said. ‘All well?'
‘Perfectly well, Henry dear,' she said serenely, successfully hiding her reaction to the sight of the shorts which he'd donned with his ancient Aertex shirt. ‘And I haven't forgotten that I'm showing some people round Number Five at seven o'clock. I do hope they're nice. Mr Ellison was very optimistic that they'd fit in with our little group. Is it time I was going?'
‘I think so.' He thought that she looked rather tired suddenly, almost distressed, and he held out his arm to her in a courtly, old-fashioned gesture. ‘Shall we do this one together?'
 
GRADUALLY THE AREA ROUND the pool filled up with guests, all talking and laughing whilst some of them swam in the soft warm water. Gemma waved across the pool to Sophie as she arrived and Lydia and Charles moved forward to welcome Abby and William. Joan was asking Nell's advice on some redecoration to their cottage whilst Bill assisted Henry at the barbecue.
‘So's how's life with you?' asked Guy, fetching up beside Phoebe as Gemma ran off to talk to Sophie.
‘My dear, now I've seen Henry's shorts I know that I can cope with anything that life might chance to throw in my path,' said Phoebe solemnly.
Guy gave a brief explosive snort. ‘Empire-builders,' he said.
‘His great-grandfather wore them when he was with General Gordon at Khartoum,' explained Phoebe. ‘To be honest, I can't decide whether they're long shorts or short longs.'
‘I hope you're not mocking my dear old Henry's shorts,' said
Gillian, strolling up. ‘It was such a relief to get him out of his moleskins I was only too delighted to see him putting them on, though I'm not certain where he found them. He'd wear the same thing every day of his life, winter and summer alike, if I let him. Wouldn't you, darling?'
She raised her voice a little and he beamed at her. Unknown to Gillian, Elizabeth had written a letter to Henry, too, telling him in absolute confidence of Gillian's extraordinarily generous gesture with her inheritance, and his love for her and pride in her were very great. He glanced down at his shorts rather proudly.
‘I thought they were more partyish,' he said simply and Guy smiled to himself.
The two women exchanged glances.
‘And so they are. Phoebe likes them. Don't you, Phoebe?' said Gillian encouragingly.
‘I'm quite overwhelmed by them,' admitted Phoebe and Guy snorted again and moved away. ‘Have you got the pith helmet to match?'
‘It's in the attic somewhere,' said Henry casually, doing clever things with some sausages, and Phoebe was silenced.
The evening advanced and a sickle moon swung clear above the trees. Bats swooped above their heads and the owl was calling down in the woods. Nell found herself beside Gussie and they smiled at each other.
‘Oh, Gussie.' Nell shook her head. ‘It seems such a long time ago since that tea shop in Bristol. Who would have believed that all this could come out of you buying a dress for Henry's wedding?'
‘Oh, my dear. And you offered to lend me your hat. Such a kind gesture.'
‘It was very odd.' Nell frowned a little. ‘It was so unlike me. Talking to a complete stranger and offering hats. I don't know what came over me.'
‘Do you sometimes wonder where we'd be now if you hadn't?' asked Gussie.
‘Sometimes,' said Nell reflectively.
‘And?' probed Gussie.
‘And,' said Nell after a long pause, ‘I'm ashamed to say that I wouldn't change a single thing. Not now.' She looked at Gussie anxiously. ‘Is that very sinful of me?'
‘Why sinful, Nell dear?' Gussie looked surprised.
‘Well …' Nell paused. ‘Honestly, Gussie. What I'm saying is that I don't mind John dying or losing the baby or, on a different level, the cottage at Porlock Weir. It sounds so callous and selfish. But, to be perfectly truthful, I'm happier now than I've ever been. Apart from Elizabeth, of course. Oh dear!' She shook her head. ‘I feel very ashamed.'
‘But you weren't responsible for any of those things,' said Gussie. ‘It wasn't your choice who should live or who should die. Those things happened to you and they are in the past and they have helped to make you what you are. One cannot live in the past. We must do the best with what we have. I think it's far more sinful to live your life with your chin on your shoulder, staring back. It's now we must live for.'
‘What a comfort you are, Gussie,' murmured Nell. ‘Whatever should I have done without you?'
‘Or I without you?' countered Gussie.
They smiled at each other, conscious of the deep love between them, and instinctively and simultaneously backed away from further displays of emotion.
‘What d'you think of Henry's shorts?' asked Gussie surprisingly.
Nell, who had already noticed them, glanced at him and smiled affectionately.
‘I think they're very Henry,' she replied. ‘Not everyone could carry them off but I think he looks perfectly splendid.'
‘They belonged to his father,' said Gussie and her eyes were full of memories. ‘I remember them very well indeed. He was wearing them the day he proposed to me in the rose garden.'
‘Gussie!' gasped Nell. ‘Did he … ? Did you … ? But why … ?'
‘I havered. I was afraid to commit myself,' said Gussie. ‘I loved
him very much and, to my shame, I loved Nethercombe even more, but I was afraid of such a great emotional commitment. And then war broke out and he joined his regiment and I went away, too. When I came back he was engaged to my cousin Louisa. When I look at Henry, and now Thomas, I sometimes wonder how it would have been if I hadn't been so cautious and I had been the mistress of Nethercombe.'

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