Authors: Barbara Cartland
K
atie had laughed again.
“
That picture brought me in a lot of shiny golden sovereigns, and that’s what mattered!”
I
t was then, looking at Katie’s photograph, that Davita had an idea.
W
hat was the point of being looked down on and perhaps despised in Edinburgh?
I
f she had to work, she was much more likely to find it in London than anywhere else.
S
he would go to Violet, who had been very friendly all the time she was staying with her, and in fact at times she had seemed almost like the sister Davita had never had.
S
he remembered too that Violet had said to her: “You’re very pretty, Davita, and in a year or two you’ll be stunning! If you take my advice, you’ll not waste yourself in this dead-or-alive place.”
“
But this is my home!” Davita had said.
“
Home or not, the moors aren’t going to pay you compliments, and the only kisses you’ll get will be from the wind, which anyway will ruin your skin!”
D
avita had laughed, but when Violet had gone she had missed her.
I
t had been fun to have another girl of almost the same age to talk to, while she knew that her father, when he was with Katie, found her rather an encumbrance.
A
fterwards, when he was sober enough he clung to her because there was no-one else.
“
If you think I want that woman back, you are mistaken!” he would say angrily. “I’ll show her I can do without her! This is my home, and if it is not good enough for her, she can go and jump in the sea for all I care!”
H
is violent mood would then give way to self-pity and a little while later he would cry:
“
I miss her, Davita! You are a good child and I am fond of you, but a man wants a woman in his life, and she was so pretty! I liked to hear her laugh. I wish you had seen her on the stage; I could not look at anybody else when she was there.”
H
e would go on and on for hours, until once, without thinking, Davita had said:
“
Why do you not go to London, Papa? It would cheer you up.”
H
er father had turned on her angrily.
“
Do you suppose I have not thought of that? Do you suppose I wish to be stuck in this benighted place? Dammit all, London would help me to forget—of course it would—but I have not the money. Do you understand, Davita? I have not a penny to my name!”
Davita could almost hear him now, shouting the words at her, and they seemed to be still echoing round the room.
T
hen as Hector put a neatly folded suit over Katie Kingston’s photograph, she made up her mind.
“
I am going to London, Hector!” she said quietly. “If Miss Violet cannot help me to find work, then I will come back.”
T
he train in which Davita was travelling from Edinburgh was uncomfortably crowded for the first part of the journey.
Then gradually, as passengers got out at every stop, Davita found herself alone, with the exception of one other woman, in the carriage marked:
“
Ladies Only
.”
I
t was Hector who had insisted she should travel Second-Class.
“
I think it is too extravagant,” Davita had said, thinking how long her money had to last.
“
I
’
m not having ye, Miss Davita, going off on yer own in a Third-Class carriage with th’ type of scum that’s sometimes in ’em!” Hector replied.
A
lthough Davita knew he was talking good sense, she parted reluctantly with what seemed to her a lot of money, and left Hector to find her a corner seat and make sure her trunk was placed in the Guard’s-Van.
A
s she waved him good-bye she felt as if she was leaving behind her in Scotland not only everything she loved but also her childhood.
N
ow she was on her own, grown up, a woman who should take care of herself, but somehow she had not the least idea how to set about it.
T
hen she thought that if things got too frightening, she could go back to Hector and stay with him in his tiny croft until she could start again.
I
t consisted of only two rooms, one up and one down, but she knew it would not worry Hector to sleep in the lower room while she occupied the only bedroom.
H
e would look after her as he had looked after her father from the time he was a boy, and her mother when they were married.
But Hector was growing old, and she had to be sensible and start to find her own way in the world, as many other young women had done before her.
B
ut deep down inside she was frightened, and she
found herself wishing, as she had so often before in her life, that she had been the boy her mother had expected, who was to have been called “David,” which was a family name, instead of being a girl and an only child at that.
S
he had brought with her the only possessions she owned, and they filled exactly two trunks.
A
fter her mother’s death she had fortunately kept her clothes and altered them to fit herself.
B
ut she was quite sure, even though they were made of good materials and some of them came from the best shops in Edinburgh, that by now they would be out of fashion.
K
atie’s clothes had of course been very different.
A
t the same time, while she had been living with them Davita had taken the opportunity of altering some of her mother’s gowns to make them more fashionable.
K
atie had also occasionally thrown a gown at Davita and said:
“
Here, you take this! I’ll never wear it again, and although it’s too big for you, the stuffs good—the Guv’nor saw to that!”
D
avita had managed to make herself two gowns out of Katie’s cast-offs, but the third was of crimson taffeta, which was a hopeless contrast to her hair.
S
he did not dare spend one penny of her precious inheritance on clothes, so she merely wore a travelling-gown and cape which had belonged to her mother, and changed the ribbons and feathers from one bonnet to another to make what she hoped was a suitable ensemble in which to appear in London.
A
s the train drew nearer and nearer to the Metropolis, Davita became more and more frightened.
S
he had never been to London before, but from all she had heard about it, she suddenly felt that she had made a mistake and would much better have stayed in the world to which she belonged, however lonely it might have been.
H
er father had extolled London as if it were a
Paradise of gaiety and excitement, with dashing, handsome men and beautiful, alluring women.
B
ut he was a man, and from some of the things Katie had told her, Davita had been well aware that for a woman without money life could be a struggle with a lot of danger about it that she did not completely understand.
“
I had a hard time on me own with Violet to look after, and no job until I got back my health and strength, and my figure too, when it came to that.”
“Surely your husband ...?” Davita began.
“
He’d gone—scuttled!” Katie said. “He was the sort who never ought to have got married. I was a fool to listen to him, but when you’re in love ...”
S
he had spoken derisively, then with one of her lilting little laughs she had added:
“
I never learn, do I? Here I am at thirty-six, letting me heart rule me head once again, and where’s it got me? To bonnie Scotland, and not so bonnie from what I’ve seen of it!”
D
avita had laughed, but she had thought then that there was a little note of desperation in Katie’s voice, which had worried her.
K
atie had left for America with not only her experience of the stage to help her but also Harry.
A
fterwards, Davita thought she might have expected that Katie was infatuated with the handsome actor, from the way she looked at him all the time he had been staying with them.
S
he had thought innocently that it was because he was a great actor and, as Violet had described him, a “star.” But after Katie was gone she supposed that the expression in her blue eyes had been one of love, and she thought the way Harry had looked at her had explained why the women at the matinees had watched him breathlessly and found their hearts beating quicker.
K
atie would be all right, Davita thought, and wondered how she could let her know she was now a widow. Then she remembered that she was going to see
Violet, who would undoubtedly know where her mother was to be found.
A
gain Davita felt a little quiver of fear.
S
uppose Violet did not want her? Suppose she was angry with her for coming South without waiting for a reply to her letters?
Davita had written to her ten days ago, but she had not actually expected Violet to answer, because she remembered her saying several times when she had been staying with them:
“
I can’t bear writing letters or anything else for that matter! I learnt enough at School to read, but writing’s hard work, and besides, I can’t spell!”
“
Better not let the Guv’nor hear you talking like that!” Katie had exclaimed. “You know he likes his girls to be ladylike, and ladies always say ‘thank you’ properly.”
“
I don’t know what you mean by ‘properly,’ ” Violet had replied. “I’d rather say ‘thank you’ with a kiss than write.”
K
atie had laughed.
“
That’s a different thing! But if a Duke asks you out to supper, you can hardly send him a kiss to say ‘yes.’ ”
“
I manage!” Violet answered, and they both had laughed.
D
avita thought now that if Violet refused to have her, she would have to try to find a Domestic Bureau.
S
he remembered her mother talking about them once and saying that servants in the South and in Edinburgh could be obtained from Bureaus which brought employers and employees together.
“
What a strange idea!” Davita had exclaimed. She had been very young at the time.
“
Not really,” her mother had answered. “If you want a Cook, for instance, you can hardly put a notice-board outside your house saying
‘
Cook Wanted
.
’ ”
“
If you did, you might get hundreds and hundreds of applicants for the position!” Davita had laughed.
“
And that would certainly be a nuisance,” Lady
Kilcraig had replied with a smile. “So, grand ladies go to a Bureau when they want a Cook, a house-maid, a Governess, or a footman, and the servants sit on hard benches hoping someone will require their services and pay them well and be kind masters.”
D
avita remembered at the time thinking it was a strange way of doing things, but now she told herself that that was what she would have to do—sit on a hard bench until somebody came in who said:
“
I want a young, inexperienced girl with no particular talents, but I will pay her and be kind to her if she will come into my employment.”
“
That would certainly have to be a very eccentric and very exceptional sort of person,” she told herself.
S
he felt panic rising within her as they passed through the suburbs and she realised they would soon be steaming into St. Pancras Station.
I
t was Hector, who had travelled a great deal in his life, who had made the journey far more comfortable than it would have been otherwise.
H
e had packed her a small picnic-basket with enough food to ensure that she would not be hungry before she reached London.
H
e had even provided her with a bottle of cold tea, saying it was nicer than water, and if she tried to buy food in the Stations she might get involved with rowdy or unpleasant men.
H
e had also made her take a rug to cover her knees in case she was cold at night. It had been difficult to sleep because of the noise and the movement of the train, and she knew how sensible he had been.
N
ow she put on her bonnet, tidied her hair, and wished she could wash before she went in search of Violet.
S
he knew, as it was getting late in the afternoon, that the sooner she reached her destination the better.
F
ortunately, Violet had given her her address when she had said good-bye at the Castle.
“
If I
’
ve left anything behind, be a sport and post it to me,” she said. “I lost one of my brooches at the last place I stayed and they never sent it on to me.”
“
Do you mean they kept it?” Davita asked in amazement.
“
I wouldn’t be surprised.”
“
Well, I promise anything I find I will post to you at once!”
D
avita had written down Violet’s address, and although she had found nothing to send on, she had kept a note of it.
N
ow she remembered that it was some time ago and perhaps Violet would have gone elsewhere.
I
t was the first time this idea had suggested itself, and Davita was more frightened than she had been before.
A
s the train steamed into the Station and drew up at the platform, she felt it was impossible for her to leave the carriage.
T
hen a porter was shouting at the window and she forced herself to ask him to find her trunks for her. He picked up her picnic-basket and the small bag in which she had carried the few things which would not fit into her trunk, then set off in the direction of the Guard’s-Van.
C
arrying her rug over one arm, with her handbag in the other, Davita followed him down the platform, feeling that there were far too many people and the noise was deafening.
T
hen, the porter having kindly looked after her, Davita found herself driving away from the Station in a four-wheeler, her trunks perched on the top of it, with a rather tired horse carrying her through the crowded streets.
“
I am here!” she said to herself. “I am in London, and please ... please, God ... take care of me!”