The Beekeeper's War, page 25
‘Is that right? I wanted to be a nurse,’ Janice said. ‘But my parents had this place and insisted I stay and help them out.’ She looked around her to check no one was listening to their conversation then leaned forward, lowering her voice again. ‘I think they were frightened I might fall for one of the patients or doctors and run off with him.’ She chuckled to herself. ‘Chance would have been a fine thing. Ended up marrying her father.’ She puffed out her cheeks as she gestured towards Maisie. ‘Should have ignored my parents.’
She walked back to the kitchen looking amused by her own joke and Emma grinned at Sam. ‘I think I’m going to like it here.’
‘Good, I’m pleased. Right, drink up,’ Sam said. ‘We may as well go and speak to the sisters as soon as we’re finished here.’
Emma wasn’t sure what to expect, but the anticipation of starting a new life in the English countryside was exciting.
They stood across the lane from the slightly tumbledown cottage with its wisteria-covered walls in need of a fresh coat of paint and a lazy ginger cat slowly licking one of its back legs.
‘What do you think?’ Sam asked quietly. ‘We don’t have to go in if you’d rather not. I can help you find somewhere else.’
‘No, it’s fine.’ Emma hadn’t been to the village before but it wasn’t that big and she doubted there would be much choice when it came to finding available lodgings. ‘Let’s go and knock on the door and see if someone’s inside.’
They crossed over to the garden gate, which squeaked loudly when Emma pushed it open. ‘Well, if anyone’s in they’ll have certainly heard that they have visitors.’
Sam opened his mouth to speak when something caught his attention. Emma heard a window being pushed open and followed Sam’s gaze up to see a red-haired woman wearing a silk turban and holding an artist’s palette and paintbrush. She smiled down at Sam and without stepping away from the window shouted over her shoulder at someone, ‘Tiz, open the door, will you? There’s a jolly handsome RAF pilot walking up the garden path.’
She leaned out of the window. ‘My sister will be with you presently.’
Seconds later, a platinum-blonde – looking, Emma thought, like a cross between Jean Harlow and Greta Garbo – opened the door. Unlike her sister, she didn’t seem very happy at all to have been disturbed.
‘Yes?’ she asked, giving Emma a searching look before taking a long drag from her Bakelite cigarette holder.
‘Um, my name is Emma Le Riche and I was told you might have a vacant room.’
Tiz looked from Emma to Sam and didn’t seem to appreciate his looks nearly as much as her sister had done.
The sound of footsteps neared, and the door was opened wider by the redhead. She stepped forward. ‘Please don’t mind my sister,’ she said, her clipped tone friendly. ‘Do come inside so we can discuss this further without the neighbours eavesdropping.’
Emma glanced up at Sam and he tilted his head, motioning for her to follow the artist.
‘I’m Terry,’ she said, indicating that they take a seat in the neat little living room. It was packed full of ornaments and cushions and every spare inch of wall displayed paintings that she presumed must have been done by Terry. ‘You’re looking for accommodation then?’
‘That’s right,’ Emma said. ‘I was offered a job at the Spitfire factory this morning and the lady at the tearoom down the road – um, Janice – suggested I might come here and speak to you about a room.’
‘What do you think, Tiz?’ Terry asked without taking her eyes off Sam. ‘You’re not married, I take it?’
‘No,’ Sam said. ‘Emma’s my cousin. My mother and her father are siblings.’
Emma opened her mouth to put him straight but realised just in time that now was not the time.
‘We only have the one room,’ Tiz said. ‘I’ll show you up now if you want to have a look. There’s no point in wasting time if you decide it’s not for you.’
Emma thought she might as well look at it. At least then, if she didn’t like it, she could ask Sam to go with her to try and find somewhere else.
‘You follow Tiz, Miss Le Riche,’ Terry said. ‘I’ll stay down here and entertain your cousin.’
Emma noticed Tiz give her sister an unimpressed glare before leading the way back into the hall and up the stairs. ‘There’s only three bedrooms here and at the moment Terry’s taken one over as her studio, but she can move her easel and paints back into her own bedroom easy enough.’ She stopped at the top of the stairs for a breather. ‘It’s this way,’ she said, leading Emma to a door at the front of the house, to the room where Terry had been painting when they arrived.
Emma stood just inside the door and gazed at the sun-filled room.
‘What do you think?’
The faded wallpaper was covered in flowers that seemed to be pink and blue hydrangeas. A worn rug lay over most of the polished floorboards and had splatters of paint covering one corner where the newspaper she guessed Terry had placed under her easel to protect the flooring had folded back. There was an old washstand with porcelain ewer and bowl, and, unlike the room downstairs, the only ornaments in the room were two wooden-framed photographs, one on either side of a pair of brown and white dogs, their backs to each other like a pair of bookends.
‘It’s very nice,’ Emma said, thinking that with a good clean the room could certainly be comfortable. Unable to help herself, she went and sat on the bed to test it. ‘If I can afford to stay here, I would like to.’
‘Oh, right?’ Tiz looked a little taken aback to hear she liked it. ‘Well, I’ll have to check with my sister about how much rent we’ll need to charge you, but you’ll be given a cooked breakfast and an evening meal. We eat at six-thirty every night. And no gentlemen callers will be allowed upstairs.’
Emma could feel her face reddening. ‘That won’t be an issue, I can assure you.’
‘I think we should go back downstairs and consult my sister. I don’t think I should make decisions without her agreement.’
They rejoined Terry, who, Emma noticed, was sitting closer to Sam than she had been when they’d left the room. Sam seemed amused by something Terry had just whispered to him.
Terry mentioned the amount that she and her sister would expect Emma to pay for the room and board.
‘That’s fine with me. Thank you.’ She smiled at Sam, happy to have sorted everything out before returning to the manor. ‘How soon would I be able to move in?’
‘Give us a day or two to clean the room and then you can move in to Oak Cottage.’
‘Oak?’ Sam asked.
Emma hadn’t noticed any oaks of any kind near the place.
‘Yes, centuries ago there was a beautiful wood behind here but it was cut down to build the rest of the village. Such a shame,’ Terry said, shrugging one shoulder.
It was, Emma agreed. They said their goodbyes and Emma arranged to return in a few days’ time.
‘Happy?’ Sam asked as they walked back to his MG.
‘Very, and it’s all down to you.’ He smiled at Emma and her stomach did a little flip, taking her by surprise. Oh no, she thought, horrified. She couldn’t fall for Sam now, even if the truth of her parentage meant they had never been related by blood. It would be far too awkward.
‘What’s the matter?’ he asked as they crossed the road to his parked car.
Emma felt her face redden. Why did her cheeks have to let her down right now? She had to think quickly. ‘I was thinking how little I have to pack to take to the cottage.’
Sam frowned. ‘I’m sure you’ll accumulate bits and bobs in time. Although,’ he added, ‘when the war is over, you’ll most likely want to return to Jersey and won’t want to be encumbered with boxes of stuff.’
He had a point but Emma liked the idea of adding a touch of her personality to her new room. She would have to wait and see what came her way. For some reason she thought of the beekeeper.
‘Did you know that your mother always brought Mum and me a jar of honey whenever she came to visit us?’
Sam laughed. ‘What a strange thing to think about now.’
It probably was, Emma agreed. ‘I never thought about where the honey had come from. Now I’ve met the beekeeper I feel a touch honoured that all his hard work produced something so delicious and special to Mum and me. We always loved eating it on our toast each morning.’ Her voice quavered.
Sam stopped and held her by her upper arms lightly. ‘I suppose it was Mum’s way of bringing some of Ashbury Manor to your mum.’
Emma liked the idea. ‘I’ve never thought of it like that. What a sweet thing to do.’ She recalled telling the beekeeper how much they had enjoyed it and wished she could have seen his face to see his reaction. She hoped he was pleased. She told Sam what had happened when she met him.
‘Jack will have appreciated that, I’m sure. He’s always been a solitary man and I’ve always sensed there was something sad about him. My father confided in me once that he had lost the woman he loved and never got over it.’
Emma was saddened to hear such a thing. ‘The poor man.’
‘I think it’s his love of his bees, and latterly Buddy, that have kept him going.’
Emma hated to think of someone suffering in such a way and decided she would make a point of going to visit him again to try to get to know him a little.
Sam’s hands fell away from her arms. ‘Don’t look so sad, little cous. Jack has survived this long and I know he loves living at Ashbury because he told me so when I asked him years ago why he never left.’ The clock in the church tower chimed the hour and Sam frowned. ‘We’d better get a move on. Mother will never forgive me if I dash back to base without spending a little time with her first.’
Emma realised how she had taken up yet more of the time he should have spent at home with his parents and smiled guiltily. ‘I feel very selfish taking you from your parents so much yesterday and today. You’re supposed to be relaxing and having fun with your family, not running around the countryside trying to sort out my problems.’
‘You are my family and I’m happy to do whatever you need me to.’ They reached the car and he opened the passenger door for her.
Emma went to climb into the car and tilted her head up to kiss his cheek just as he turned to check she was inside. Her lips grazed his and for a second neither moved. Then Emma gave a sharp intake of breath and sat down.
‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do that.’
Sam stared at her, a bemused expression on his handsome face. ‘Don’t apologise.’
‘No, really, that was a clumsy thing to do.’
He stared at her for a few seconds before shaking his head. ‘It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.’ Rushing to the other side of the car he leapt over the door and into his seat. ‘Right, unless you want to kiss me again, I think we should hurry up and get home.’
Emma laughed, more in shock than embarrassment, and slapped his arm. ‘Stop teasing me.’
‘I’m not teasing you.’ Sam laughed, mimicking her voice.
Relieved that once again Sam had saved the moment, Emma relaxed. She had found a job and a place to live that she instinctively knew she was going to like and also spent a fun time with her cousin. Today was turning out to be much better than she had expected.
Thirty-Two
Emma
June 1940
Saying goodbye to Sam that afternoon was far harder than Emma had ever imagined it might be. How had he gone from being her childhood tormentor to such a fun-loving, supportive friend?
‘I’ve asked my father to see that you are taken to and from the village until you’ve moved into the cottage, isn’t that right, Father?’ Sam said as he bid farewell to everyone.
Monty nodded. ‘Yes.’
Emma watched as Sam kissed his mother’s cheek and then shook his father’s hand. He then took her by the shoulders and pulled a face.
She watched him step into his car and close the door. ‘Well, I’ll be off then. I’ll see you all again on my next leave. TTFN.’
Emma forced a smile. Sam had been the best fun and she longed for him to return to the manor and for the opportunity to be able to spend time with him again. For now, though, she decided as she stood next to her aunt and uncle waving at his retreating car, she would focus on making the best of things and settling down in her new room and learning her new job so that when Sam did next come home she would be able to make him proud to see how much she had achieved.
‘Come along inside, dear,’ her aunt said. ‘We have guests coming for dinner this evening – two very good friends – and you’re to join us. I gather from Sam that you’ve found a room to stay in so that you’re closer to your new job and you should know as many people as possible in the area, don’t you think?’
‘Yes, I suppose so.’ Emma would have rather eaten a light supper and gone to bed with her thoughts. It had been a long and exciting day, but one that also filled her with mixed emotions. Was she ready to leave the manor? She wasn’t sure. She shrugged off the conflicting thoughts. ‘I don’t know if I have anything suitable to wear.’
‘I’ll find something for you in my wardrobe,’ her aunt said. ‘I’ll have it taken to your room. We’re about the same size so I’m sure I won’t have a problem finding something to suit you.’
Later, after Emma had taken a bath, she returned to her room to find that her aunt had kindly left a pretty green satin dress on her bed.
Having done her best with her unruly hair, she arrived in the drawing room a little later and saw a beautifully ethereal woman with the palest hair and bright, mesmerising blue eyes standing with an unattractive man who by the sounds of things had a jolly good sense of humour.
‘Ahh, Emma, there you are,’ her uncle said, motioning for her to join them. ‘These are our dearest friends, Lord and Lady Rivers. They don’t live far from here and I believe your mother—’
‘Thank you, Monty,’ Jean cut in rudely.
It wasn’t like her aunt to be anything other than charming, especially in company, and her reaction shocked Emma.
The pretty woman stepped forward and held out her hand. ‘Please, we’re Hugo and Verity,’ she said. ‘And it’s a delight to meet you.’
A footman Emma didn’t recognise entered the room. ‘Lord Ashbury, there’s a call for you in your study.’
‘For pity’s sake, Monty,’ her aunt said. ‘Surely you don’t need to take every phone call that comes in? We have guests.’
Hugo stepped forward. ‘He’s a busy man, Jean. Verity and I understand. Please, Monty, don’t worry about us.’
Emma saw her uncle give Lord Rivers a grateful smile but by the set look on his face she suspected that he had no intention of not taking the telephone call.
‘I shan’t be long. Carry on without me for now, please.’
Emma took the glass of sherry from the tray that Stephens was holding out for her. ‘Thank you,’ she said, noticing that he didn’t look as cheerful as he had when Sam was around. She didn’t blame him. Some of the joy had vanished from the manor since his departure.
‘Your aunt and uncle tell me that you’re Pru’s daughter,’ Verity said. ‘I don’t think I’ve seen your mother since, what was it, do you think, Hugo? Twenty years now?’
‘Must have been 1917,’ Jean said.
‘Ahh, of course it must,’ Verity said, her bright blue eyes sparkling with amusement. ‘I never was the best with figures. How is the darling girl?’
‘I’m not sure,’ Emma said, trying to control her emotions. She explained why her mother was staying behind in Jersey.
‘You poor, sweet child,’ Verity said. ‘How frightening for you.’
‘Thank you, but I’m fine. It’s my mum I’m worried about.’
‘I remember Pru well enough to know she’s resilient. I’m sure she’ll be fine.’
Emma wasn’t sure how anyone could know anything of the sort but didn’t like to be bad-mannered enough to share her thoughts so she listened politely as Verity and Hugo chattered about the deteriorating situation in France and what might happen to the Channel Islands, relieved when Monty rejoined them in the drawing room. His face was very pale and she hoped his call hadn’t been bad news. She prayed he might change the subject to lighter matters so that she could at least try to imagine that her mother was safe somewhere.
‘What’s the matter, Monty?’ Hugo asked, walking over to his friend. ‘Bad news?’
Monty didn’t reply but slowly walked over to Emma. Her mind raced and her breath became shallow as it dawned on her that he had news specifically for her.
‘What is it?’ She took a deep breath, trying to keep control of her rising panic. ‘Please tell me it’s not bad news about Mum.’
‘No, dear girl,’ he said.
‘Emma, you’re looking very pale,’ her aunt said.
‘Sit down, dear,’ Verity suggested as she and Jean came to stand either side of Emma and the three of them sat on the sofa.
‘I’m so sorry,’ Emma said. ‘I thought for a moment then that you had bad news about Mum. I must be more frightened for her than I had thought.’
‘Here,’ her aunt said, taking her glass from her hand and holding it to her lips. ‘Drink this. Stephens, please send for some hot sweet tea.’ When he didn’t move, she shouted, ‘Immediately!’
‘Maybe we ought to go,’ Verity said.
Emma didn’t like the idea of her aunt and uncle sitting with her for hours trying to calm her. More than anything she needed to be alone, and she assumed that she was more likely to have that chance sooner if Lord and Lady Rivers remained at the manor for dinner.
‘Please don’t go,’ Emma said. ‘Not on my account. I’ll be fine.’ She took another sip of the sweet liquid that she disliked so much. ‘I’d rather everyone carry on as normal.’ She breathed in deeply and exhaled as slowly as she could manage. ‘It’s not as if I can do anything to change things, is it?’
