Authors: Hazel Holt
‘They seem to get on remarkably well – lots of jokes and lively chat.’
‘Yes, they’re very much on the same wavelength, and completely at ease with each other – partners in every sense of the word yes, and Patrick is devoted, in the sense that I’m sure he’d do anything
for
Daniel, but there’s a certain reserve. I can’t explain, and, goodness knows, I’m so grateful that he’s there – I can’t imagine what Daniel would do without him, especially now.’
It was only a few days after the dinner party that I came across Daniel again. I’d gone down to look across the Bristol Channel, as I quite often do after shopping, when I saw him leaning on the sea wall. It was dull and overcast, the sort of day when the sea and sky merge into one uniform grey and the water is hardly moving, and even the most enthusiastic walker hasn’t been tempted to venture out. The gloomy day and the solitary figure provided such a melancholy picture that I was uncertain whether or not to approach. However, he lifted his head and had obviously seen me so I felt I could join him.
‘You made such a perfect picture, all alone, leaning on the sea wall on this miserable day,’ I said, ‘that I hardly liked to spoil it.’
He smiled. ‘I didn’t actually arrange myself in this position for effect,’ he said. ‘I just wanted to think.’
‘I’ve interrupted you – I’m sorry.’
‘No, it’s all right; I’ve had my think.’
‘And did you come to any conclusion?’ I asked.
‘As a matter of fact I did.’
‘That’s good.’
He smiled again. ‘I’ve decided I’d like to stay here for a while. Quite a while, actually.’
‘To sort through your father’s papers?’
‘That as well, but it’s more than that.’ He paused and looked out to sea again. ‘Down here I suddenly felt free. My life has become so busy, so
convoluted
that I’ve become overwhelmed by it. Down here,’ he repeated and paused again ‘… down here I could breathe again and not have to keep looking ahead. I could just
be
.’
‘That would be good.’
‘Especially on a day like this when there’s no one else about; just me and the sea.’ He gestured towards it. ‘Just look at it, isn’t it perfect?’
‘A bit melancholy today,’ I said.
‘But it’s
real
! I think that’s what I’ve missed. I haven’t been living in the real world.’
‘I suppose you haven’t.’
He took a couple of deep breaths. ‘There, you see – fresh air, wonderful!’
I laughed. ‘There’s plenty of that down here.’
Daniel smiled. ‘Yes, well, I get up early in the morning now – at first light – and go out running. It’s amazing, everywhere is empty, it’s a terrific feeling. Botox for the spirit – gets rid of all the wrinkles in your mind and leaves it clear and smooth.’ He gestured again. ‘Like the sea today.’
‘The sea isn’t always as smooth as this,’ I said. ‘It can be very rough sometimes.’
‘Oh, I know that. Do you ever listen to the shipping forecast on the radio? I love it. Viking, North Utsire, South Utsire, Dogger, Fisher, German Bight, FitzRoy, Lundy, Rockall, Malin, Fair Isle, Faeroes.’ He chanted the names. ‘Fantastic – it’s hypnotic. And the weather – south-westerly 7 to severe gale 9, rough or high, moderate to poor. Yes, the sea isn’t always calm!’
He stopped suddenly. ‘I suppose you think I’m mad.’
I shook my head. ‘No, just excited because you’ve discovered something new. It’s good. And, yes, I do listen to the shipping forecast – when I wake early. I love it too.’ I smiled. ‘For what it’s worth, I think you’ve made the right choice. I think you do need a break from your other lifestyle. I think Eva would approve.’
He nodded. ‘When she said she was coming back here after my father died, I thought she was making
a mistake. Her life’s always been in London, most of her friends are there. But I can see now that she wanted to – how do they put it? – get back to her roots. She was even doing research into the family on the Internet, making a family tree – her side and my father’s. I don’t think she’d got very far, but I’d rather like to go on with it.’
‘Good for you.’
‘I’m going to talk to Cousin Doris about it – her memory must go back a long way.’
Identifying, with some difficulty, Mrs Dudley, I agreed that she would certainly be a useful source.
‘I like her, she’s a bit of a dragon, but we get on.’
‘She’s a great one for family,’ I said. ‘She approves of you.’
‘Good.’
‘And Patrick approves of all this?’ I asked. ‘Staying down here, I mean.’
‘He’s all for it. Actually, he’s been on at me for ages to take a break.’
‘He won’t find it too boring after London?’
‘Oh, he’ll find something to do. Patrick could find something in the middle of the Kalahari Desert. Though, as a matter of fact, he’s a country boy – came from some remote part of Ireland. I don’t know where.’ He smiled. ‘Somehow, one doesn’t ask Patrick about personal things.’
‘Not even you?’
‘No. That’s why we get on so well together – we respect each other’s space.’
‘Well, I’m glad he’ll feel happy here.’
There was a silence, though a comfortable one, as we both stared out at the sea and the faint, almost indistinguishable outline of the Welsh coast. Emboldened by this I asked, ‘Did your mother ever talk to you about Donald Webster?’
He turned his head sharply and looked at me. ‘No – well not
talked
, she mentioned him occasionally in passing. Why?’
‘He asked her to marry him.’
‘Oh.’
‘He was just about to go away for a while and she said she’d give him her answer when he came back. But then …’
‘She died.’
‘Yes.’
‘And do you think she would have?’
‘I don’t know. I believe she wanted time to think about it. It was too soon after Alan’s death, but I think she might have agreed eventually. They got on well together, enjoyed each other’s company – but as good friends, nothing more.’
‘I see.’
‘She’d made a lot of friends down here and there
was Rosemary, of course, but I think she was lonely. Well, missing a special person – one does.’
He was silent for quite a while and I began to regret bringing the matter up and wishing that Rosemary, who, after all, was a more suitable person, had found the opportunity to tell him.
‘Thank you for telling me.’
‘I hope I haven’t upset you.’
‘No, I needed to know.’ He paused. ‘It’s just that it takes a bit of thinking about. I wish I could have talked to her about it …’
‘She would have told you if she’d decided.’
‘Yes, of course. But I suppose we led such separate lives. I’ve only just realised that. There are a great many things we didn’t tell each other and now it’s too late. That’s sad.’
‘I think we all feel that, or something like it, when someone close to us dies. But that’s just something you have to accept and get on with your life.’
‘You’re right, of course. That’s what Patrick says.’
‘Patrick is a very wise person,’ I said.
‘Yes he is. I don’t think I could carry on without him.’
‘So Daniel’s going to stay on at the cottage,’ I said to Rosemary as we were sorting some books for the book sale at Brunswick Lodge. ‘I saw him down by
the harbour. He was in a strange sort of mood – really excited, more animated than I’ve ever seen him; you know how laid-back he usually is. Talking about things being
real
down here.’
‘Yes. I must say I was surprised when he told me, but I’m sure it’s a good thing. He was very wound up when he came down for the funeral, and, although he’s still sort of wound up, it’s in a different way.’
‘I suppose the life he was leading in London was very artificial in some ways and quite a strain.’
‘I know Patrick’s pleased they’re staying. I think he’d got quite worried about things. He seems to like being down here. He’s planning to begin looking through Alan’s papers – I don’t believe Daniel’s up to that yet, but Patrick thinks that if he gets started, Daniel might become interested.’
‘Good for him.’
‘Mother’s delighted, of course. Daniel’s been spending quite a lot of time with her. Apparently Eva had started looking up the family on the Internet, Alan’s family too – all that genealogy stuff – and Daniel’s going on with it.’
‘Yes, he told me he was going to ask your mother what she remembered about her generation. It was quite a shock when he referred to her as Cousin Doris!’
‘I know. That was Mother’s idea; it makes her feel rather grand and Victorian. Anyway, she’s thrilled to
have someone who actually
wants
to hear about all the relations and off-relations. And Elsie loves having someone who appreciates her cakes and scones. All wonderful for Mother, wonderful for me, too – she’s in a permanently good mood nowadays.’
‘Good for Daniel. I must say it’s not a thing I would ever have thought of him doing. But that’s not the only thing. Did you know that he now gets up at first light and goes running!’
‘Good heavens – that’s the last thing I’d have thought of!’
Alison Shelby, who’d been hovering nearby, came up with some books in her hand.
‘Sorry to interrupt,’ she said, ‘but I wondered if these would be all right for the sale. I’ve been having a bit of a turn-out and, really, we do seem to have a lot of books nobody ever reads.’
She handed them over and I looked at them with some curiosity, wondering what sort of books the Shelbys read. There was a guide to Hadrian’s Wall,
The Letters of Queen Victoria
, Tennyson’s Poems,
Little Women
and
Good Wives
.
‘Actually, they belonged to Maurice’s mother,’ she said. ‘Not the sort of things we would care for. Well, Maurice only reads those stuffy old law books and things about the First World War, and really I don’t have time for reading. I like a good magazine, but
books take up so much time, don’t they?’
‘Didn’t your daughters read
Little Women
?’ I asked.
‘Oh no,’ she said quickly, ‘that’s very old-fashioned, isn’t it? Nobody reads that sort of thing nowadays, do they?’
I was careful not to look at Rosemary. We are both devoted to Louisa Alcott and renew our acquaintance with the March family quite frequently.
‘Well, thank you. They can go into the sale,’ I said. ‘I’m sure someone would like them.’
‘Oh good. It seemed a shame to throw them out.’
I was delighted to get an invitation to tea with Mrs Dudley with the information that Daniel would be there. I was eager to see her in the role of Cousin Doris. When she let me in, Elsie whispered, ‘
Such
a difference since Mr Daniel’s been here. Quite cheered her up!’
Certainly the atmosphere was much livelier than usual. Instead of sitting immoveably in her chair by the fire, Mrs Dudley was seated at the large table in the centre of the room which was covered with albums. Daniel was sitting beside her sorting through a large number of loose photographs scattered around them. When she saw me, Mrs Dudley raised her head and called me over.
‘Ah, Sheila, this will interest you – a photograph
of your parents, taken, I believe, in the 1930s at a garden party we all went to at The Castle.’
The Castle was Dunster Castle, now in the hands of the National Trust to Mrs Dudley’s profound regret (‘
Another
beautiful home gone!’) since, in her youth, it had been the scene of many eagerly sought after social occasions.
I looked at the photograph, sepia with age, so much a part of history now that it seemed almost impossible that anyone in that group, caught forever in time, should still be alive today.
‘How interesting,’ I said. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen that one.’
‘I remember that hat your mother was wearing,’ Mrs Dudley said. ‘It didn’t have a brim – we all thought that very new and daring. Your mother,’ she continued, ‘was always very
fashionable
.’ And I could catch quite clearly the note of disapproval echoing across the years.
Daniel looked up and gave me a quick smile. ‘Isn’t it fascinating?’ he said. ‘Cousin Doris has a wonderful collection of photographs.’
‘They should all be in albums,’ Mrs Dudley said. ‘I’ve spoken to Rosemary about it several times. Loose like this, some of them could quite easily get lost. Now, Daniel,’ she continued, opening one of the albums, ‘these are the later ones, after the war. This
is one of Eva’s mother, Lydia. Your grandmother. Now that was taken at a point-to-point somewhere. She had a horse of her own and rode a great deal. She was most disappointed when Eva never showed any sign of wanting her own pony.’
I remembered how Eva hated her riding lessons (‘I’m scared stiff most of the time and that wretched little pony
knows
and plays me up – he had me off the other day, and Mummy was so disappointed when I wouldn’t get straight back on!’).
‘She hunted too. She led quite a social life and I believe she could have married very well, so it was a great surprise when she decided to marry a colonial. Her family were disappointed, of course, but they made the best of things, even helping him to set up that
business
.’ The last word tinged with distaste. ‘However,’ she continued, ‘he did make a success of it and, I believe, made a great deal of money. Not,’ she added sharply, ‘that money is everything – not compared with a good family.’
‘I don’t suppose you have anything of
her
parents?’ Daniel asked.
‘Nothing of her mother, but there is one of her father’s father – we share a common great-grandfather – it’s in the hall. Sheila, perhaps you will very kindly go and fetch it.’
I lifted the framed photograph carefully from its
place. It was a formal studio portrait of a man in a frock coat with smoothed-down hair and an air of consequence.
Mrs Dudley received it with pleasure and handed it to Daniel.
‘He looks very important,’ Daniel said. ‘What did he do?’
‘He was a doctor,’ Mrs Dudley said with satisfaction. ‘I believe he did, on one occasion, attend royalty.’
‘Sounds very grand.’ Daniel put the photograph down and picked up one of Eva’s mother Lydia. ‘She looks very nice, good-looking too – Eva looks very like her. I’ll see what I can turn up on the Internet.’
Mrs Dudley was about to express her opinion of the Internet (unfavourable) when Elsie came in and ushered us all into the dining room for tea. Mrs Dudley was one of the few remaining people I know who still provided a sit-down tea for her visitors and the table was spread with a variety of sandwiches, scones and cakes. I saw with a sinking heart that there was also her best silver tea set, whose heavy teapot I found difficult to manage when Mrs Dudley, as she always did, required me to pour. However, I did manage it without disgracing myself and the conversation became general.