Authors: Pamela Oldfield
The following evening, after the children were settled for the night, Marianne wrote to Alice.
I must tell someone and I fear it has to be you, Alice,
she wrote.
I am still recovering from a ghastly afternoon. It was arranged that I would accompany the twins and their handsome Uncle Richard to the charity home where the children’s nanny now spends her days – until, that is, Richard Preston whisks her back to America to be reunited with the family!
The idea was that we would all spend time with her, but that I would slip away discreetly at some stage and leave them on their own. I imagined I would then wander elegantly through the garden or rest my idle bones on a sofa in Reception. It was not to be . . .
Marianne sighed, recalling the reality of the visit. Ivy Busby had appeared, walking unaided, wearing a wool suit that was quite unsuitable for the very warm weather. Her face was flushed, her gaze very direct and unsmiling. Richard, somewhat taken aback, had then explained to the nanny, as tactfully as possible, that it had been a condition of the visit that he should not have sole control of the children and introduced her as the twins’ governess.
Ivy Busby, however, made it quite clear that she was offended by this information and gave me a withering look that would have stopped an elephant at ten paces! She said, ‘That dreadful Matlowe woman! How very like her to impose conditions. If she was trying to offend me she has succeeded!’
I felt deeply slighted but for the children’s sake I hid my feelings. I immediately apologized and offered to withdraw but Richard said, ‘Please, Marianne. This is not your fault.’ But Ivy Busby waved a hand in my direction and said, ‘I know exactly whose fault it is! Just get rid of her, Richard, and let us enjoy the visit.’
Marianne had hesitated, unsure what to do. The twins had been listening wide-eyed and could obviously see that something was wrong.
Edie began to cry and turned to me for comfort and Emmie took hold of Richard’s hand, regarding the nanny with dismay. Desperate to save the afternoon I said brightly, ‘Say “Hello” to your nanny, girls. She’s been looking forward to seeing you both.’ Neither of them spoke and I really could not blame them . . .
Richard was by then crimson with embarrassment and Marianne’s heart went out to him but she had no idea what else to do or say to help him.
I lowered my voice and said to him that if I withdrew things might improve and, before he could argue, I slipped out and closed the door behind me. I went back to the front entrance where there was a solitary sofa, rather the worse for wear, and I sat on it feeling slightly hysterical and not knowing whether to laugh or cry! Can you imagine it, Alice? I had heard such wonderful things about the ‘dear old family nanny’ from Richard that it was hard to reconcile the myth with the bad-tempered old woman.
A few moments later a woman came out to me and introduced herself as Nesta, one of the staff . . .
According to Nesta, Ivy Busby had slept badly in spite of a sleeping pill and had woken feeling overexcited and very anxious about the coming meeting with the twins. Someone called Frederika had given her a couple of glasses of sherry to ‘calm her nerves’.
‘Strictly against the rules, of course,’ Nesta insisted. ‘We don’t allow any alcohol at Number 24 because it upsets the various medicines and pills that the residents take. Someone had smuggled in a bottle for Frederika and we made her give it up. But too late, of course. It had the unfortunate effect of making poor Miss Busby feel argumentative. She can sometimes be difficult but I could say that about all of our ladies. They are all in a rather sad position and can be irascible.’
She lowered her voice although there was nobody nearby to hear, and said that Ivy tended to boast about her recently improved situation and the others were a little jealous. She though Frederika might have given her the sherry deliberately, knowing how it might affect her! Lord save us, Alice, from such a fate!
So the wonderful nanny was tipsy and I was grateful for my early escape. It seemed that there was no garden but only a small area at the rear of the building and that it was currently strung with lines full of washing so I took myself off for a long walk round the block . . . three long tours, in fact!
We were unable to talk on the way home for fear of ‘little pitchers’ but I shall presumably get to hear about it at some time.
Marianne felt slightly better when the letter was finished
.
Putting pen to paper about the disastrous afternoon had somehow taken the bitterness from the memories. She had also told Alice about Donald’s invitation to dinner and that had restored her natural cheerfulness. Weary from the day’s emotions, she signed her name with a flourish, slipped the folded letter into an envelope and sealed it.
As she pulled off her clothes and put on her nightdress, her bed looked very inviting.
TWELVE
D
onald and Richard sat together in the office regarding each other unhappily. Richard had just described the previous day’s visit to Ivy Busby with an attempt to make light of it – an attempt which failed dismally.
He said, ‘I feel so bad for Marianne and the twins. It was a wretched experience. When Nan realized that she had cast a blight over the afternoon she was very apologetic but it was too late then. The damage was done.’
‘So you weren’t able to ask Miss Busby any more about what happened when Leonora disappeared? I was hoping she might volunteer something useful because, to be honest, Richard, I feel we have nowhere else to go.’
‘I managed to ask her what she thought had happened to Leonora and she said she believed that she stormed out after the row with Mrs Matlowe and was then killed – either by accident or design. She thinks she’s dead. She says that she was tempestuous and quite likely to storm out and frighten everyone but that she almost certainly intended to return. She would never desert the children.’ He leaned forward. ‘Are you about to tell me you’re giving up on the case?’
‘Regretfully I am. I can’t see any way to move forward and you may be better off going home. You did your best.’
‘I saw a solicitor before I came here and he is writing a formal letter to Mrs Matlowe asking her to agree to me taking the twins for a holiday. She should receive it tomorrow morning.’
‘She’ll refuse, of course.’
‘Unless I can persuade her sister to put in a word for me. Ida is quite a forceful personality! I also handed the solicitor a letter from my parents making the same request. It may help our cause.’
Donald frowned. ‘I’m rather hoping that you won’t need Marianne. My cousin is expecting a child and suffering bouts of sickness. She may give up earlier than intended and I am about to sound Marianne out about taking Judith’s place. She’s very bright and she’s been helpful throughout the last few weeks – and she can type!’
Richard’s face fell. ‘Actually I was going to ask her to travel with us, spend a week with the family and travel back. Hmm. When and if we are allowed to take them out of the country, that is.’
Donald grinned suddenly. ‘We might have to fight a duel for her!’
‘I’d win!’ he laughed. ‘I’ve had fencing lessons!’
‘I’d choose pistols at dawn!’
Richard shrugged. ‘It’s a damned nuisance that Nan and Marianne are hardly on friendly terms. God! Why is everything so difficult?’
Donald hesitated. ‘I’m taking her out to dinner tonight. I shall bring up the question of the job here.’
Richard raised his eyebrows. ‘Lucky you! If she accepts, that is. Do you think she’ll abandon Edie and Emmie?’
Donald stood up and strolled to the window. ‘According to Marianne, Ida is determined that they should go to school and mix more with other people. She feels that their world is too small. Not boarding school, but a good private school somewhere nearby where they could attend daily. Of course, this is not the time to raise the question – it would give Mrs Matlowe another heart attack! But as soon as she improves . . .’ He left it unfinished.
‘They certainly are very isolated,’ Richard agreed reluctantly. ‘Our education system is much more relaxed. Not nearly so uptight.’
Donald said, ‘Our education system is the best in the world! Ask anyone!’
‘Here we go again!’ Richard laughed and glanced up at the clock. ‘Ten to one already. Let’s go and find some lunch.’
It was almost eight o’clock before Donald and Marianne were seated at the small Italian restaurant Donald had chosen. Marianne felt comfortable from the moment she stepped inside as they were greeted by a friendly ‘Italian’ waiter who showed them to a table in a secluded corner of the room. Donald whispered to her that his name was Harry and his accent was false, but she preferred to give him the benefit of the doubt. An overhead fan controlled the temperature, bright red gingham tablecloths covered the tables and the walls were painted with scenes from Italian life. Several lobsters wallowed in a nearby tank and Marianne looked away.
He said, ‘Richard came into the office this morning and told me about the trip to see Ivy Busby. I’m so sorry you were upset – and so is he. Have the twins recovered?’
She told him briefly about Frederika’s mean trick and he rolled his eyes. ‘So not all sweetness and light at Number 24!’
‘Sadly not. I daresay they get on each other’s nerves at times.’
‘So how would you feel if you and the nanny were stuck on the
Mauretania
for a week?’
‘I might go quietly mad!’ she admitted. ‘In the nanny’s mind I work for the enemy so that puts me on the wrong side. But will she be going on the ship? She seemed terribly frail to me and I believe the Atlantic can be very rough.’
Donald was looking at her intently. ‘I’d rather you didn’t go,’ he said bluntly. ‘I know I have no right to ask but I’m going to anyway.’ He reached across the table and laid a hand over hers. ‘I’m offering you the job with Watson Investigations – it will be vacant when Judith gives up. I think that’s going to be sooner than we expected because she is feeling very unwell at the moment.’
She could not resist glancing at his hand as it lay over hers but he immediately took it away.
‘I’m sorry, Marianne. That was too forward of me. I’m an idiot.’
She smiled. ‘I rather liked it,’ she confessed. ‘But to get back to Watson Investigations . . . I’d like to accept but it will depend on what happens to the twins. Ida has suggested . . .’
‘That they are ready to go to school. Yes. Richard told me.’
The waiter returned to their table and handed them each a menu and Marianne wondered if Donald knew any Italian but fortunately it was in both languages. After some deliberations she chose braised liver with a salad because she thought it would be easier to manage than the various pasta dishes, which were unfamiliar to her.
‘So,’ she said, ‘the letters I typed for you were satisfactory?’
‘Quite excellent!’
‘No spelling mistakes?’
‘I wouldn’t know! It was not my best subject at school.’
‘What was your best subject?’
‘Horsing around! No, actually it was mathematics.’
‘Then why did you become a . . .?’
‘It was my father’s business. Watson and Sidden Investigations. I went into it when I left school, Sidden died soon after and my father three years ago. I’m the sole survivor but, of course, I’ve had Judith with me, who is very good.’
A jug of water arrived on the table accompanied by two glasses and a small bowl of olives.
‘May I ask about you?’ Donald asked tentatively. ‘Without sounding too inquisitive?’
‘Certainly. I have no dark secrets. My mother married a Frenchman and we lived mostly in France but Papa developed tuberculosis and, as the disease worsened, my mother was terrified of being widowed and alone in a foreign country so we all came back to England.’
‘How old were you then?’
‘I was fifteen. When the worst happened, the shock of Papa’s death made her ill. The doctors called it a nervous breakdown and sadly, after that, she went rapidly downhill. I don’t think she wanted to live without him.’
‘So she died, leaving you alone – or do you have brothers and sisters?’
Marianne shook her head. ‘I have a much older brother but he lives in India and has done for years. I was looking for a job as a companion but saw Mrs Matlowe’s advertisement and thought it would be more rewarding to work with children. I had a decent education – and here I am.’ She shrugged. ‘Although thanks to Ida’s intervention on the twins’ schooling, the job may not last as long as I had hoped.’
He smiled broadly. ‘But I may have a lot to thank Ida for! You might, in desperation, be driven to come and work with me.’
He’s very eager, thought Marianne, flattered. She had become very attached to the twins but, if she were going to lose her job, working with Donald would be a very promising second best. She smiled. ‘We’ll have to wait and see what Fate has in store for us!’
The waiter reappeared and a plate of braised liver was placed before her. It looked and smelled delicious and she suddenly realized that she was hungry. A few moments passed while they explored their food and found it very good.
Then Donald said, ‘I have to ask, Marianne, so do forgive me . . . Is there a man in your life? I can’t believe there isn’t.’
‘There is no man, Donald . . . And am I to assume you are unattached?’
He nodded, grinning. ‘I have one more question, which may come as a surprise . . . My mother would like you to come to lunch on Sunday.’
Marianne raised her eyebrows. ‘You’ve told her about me?’
‘No, but Judith did. She is determined that you are the ideal person to replace her here and to that end she wants us to “get along” – as she puts it. She’s always insisted that she knows me better than I know myself and she may be right. She means well, Marianne, so don’t think badly of her.’ He refilled her water glass. ‘She is meddling but with the best intentions. So what do you think, Marianne? My mother is looking forward to meeting you. Can you ask for time off?’