Read The Scarlet Wench Online

Authors: Marni Graff

The Scarlet Wench

Table of Contents

also by m. k. graff:

The Blue Virgin

The Green Remains

Writing in a Changing World
(co-author)

The Scarlet Wench

M. K. Graff

Copyright © 2014 by M. K. Graff.

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the publisher except in the case of brief quotations for the express purpose of critical articles or reviews. For information or permission contact:

  Bridle Path Press, LLC

  8419 Stevenson Road

  Baltimore, MD 21208

www.bridlepathpress.com

Direct orders to the above address.

Blithe Spirit: An Improbable Farce in Three Acts
by Noel Coward

copyright © NC Aventales AG 1941

by permission of Alan Brodie Representation Ltd.

www.alanbrodie.com

Printed in the United States of America.

First edition.

ISBN 978-0-9852331-7-4

Library of Congress Control Number: 2014933753

Illustrations and design by Giordana Segneri.

Cover photographs © Carausius/istockphoto.com and © Peter Mukherjee/istockphoto.com; engraving © Catherine Lane/istockphoto.com.

for kathleen m. l. travia

You may have tangible wealth untold;

Caskets of jewels and coffers of gold.

Richer than I you can never be—

I had a Mother who read to me.

Strickland Gillilan,
The Reading Mother

Cast of Characters

in order of appearance

Nora Tierney —
American writer

Sean
— her son

Val Rogan
— textile artist; Nora’s best friend in Oxford

Detective Inspector Declan Barnes
— detective
inspector in Oxford, Thames Valley Police Criminal Investigation Department

Agnes
— cook at Ramsey Lodge

Poppy Braeburn
— actress playing Edith and theatre
troupe’s costumer

Simon Ramsey
— co-owner of Ramsey Lodge; artist and
illustrator of Nora’s children’s books

Rupert Denton
— actor playing Dr. Bradman

Lydia Brown
— his wife; actress playing Mrs. Bradman

Callie Barnum
— Ramsey Lodge part-time staff; Nora’s
mum’s help

Grayson Lange
— director and actor playing Charles
Condomine; head of Lange’s Traveling Theatre Troupe

Gemma Hartwell
— actress playing Elvira Condomine

Fiona Church
— actress playing Ruth Condomine

Helen Mochrie
— actress playing Madame Arcati

Burt Marsh
— Bowness resident hired to stage manage

Maeve Addams
— manager of Ramsey Lodge and Simon’s
girlfriend

Dr. Milo Foreman
— Home Office pathologist

Daisy
— owner of The Scarlet Wench Pub

Detective Sergeant Stephen Higgins
— Cumbria
Constabulary Criminal Investigation Department, Kendal

Daniel Kemp
— solicitor representing Muriel and Harvey
Pembroke, parents of Nora’s deceased fiancé, Paul

All chapter epigrams are lines from

Blithe Spirit: An Improbable Farce in Three Acts

by Noel Coward

with kind permission of his estate

The Scarlet Wench

Here is a woman who’s lost her head

She’s quiet now because she’s dead

— plaque in the hall of The Scarlet Wench Pub,
also reproduced on their matchbooks

“You can have scenes with English people but they are nice, quiet scenes. Under all that surface calm they are simply seething with feeling and emotion and warmths and it pops out all the time.”

— Avis Devoto, in a letter to Julia Child, 1953

Chapter One

“I shall never be able to relax again, as long as I live.”

Charles: Act
I
, Scene 2

Bowness-on-Windermere, Cumbria

Monday, 9th April

8:59 AM

She was the worst mother in the whole world.

  “My whole life is changing, and how did this child get cereal in his ear?” Nora Tierney cradled her mobile phone against her ear as she spoke to her Oxford friend, Val Rogan. She held her infant son close to her chest to soothe his grizzling while she smoothed Sean’s shiny-penny hair, lighter than her own. Nora frowned at the bit of dried cereal mashed into his ear and the spit-up on the front of his sleeper. His nursery in an alcove off her room in Ramsey Lodge seemed to have shrunk in on both of them today.

  “I gather that’s your usual disjointed rhetorical question,” Val said, “but you said you skipped his bath last night. Easily explained: baby rice from mouth to hand to ear. And I know you haven’t had sex in a while, but why is seeing the delicious Declan going to change your life?”

  “You know I don’t take these … interludes lightly. It’s important. And don’t call Declan that or it’ll become a nickname and stick.

  Nora stole a glance at the Peter Rabbit clock over Sean’s changing table. “It’s not just Declan, it’s the theatre troupe, too.”

  “I think their play has already been cast, Nora.”

  “I heard that stifled laugh. You never know what can happen. I
did
play Elvira in college.”

  “Did you know whining brings out your American accent? Why is my godson so fractious?”

  “He’s been fine on formula for two weeks, but last night he wouldn’t settle and he woke very early. I thought he’d take an early nap—I should be helping in the lodge.” The rice cereal won out. Nora put the phone on speaker, undressed the baby and walked with the phone into the bathroom, reveling in the feel of Sean’s soft, downy skin against her own as he grabbed a hunk of her hair. Such unconditional love for this small, squirming child who could frustrate her one minute, then reduce her to jelly with his joyful smile the next.

  “Maybe you need to change his formula?” Val’s voice echoed from the mobile.

  “I’ll call the health visitor if it keeps up. There’s no change in his bowel—”

  “Stop right there. I’ve no need to hear about his dirty nappies or their contents.”

  Nora laughed. “Some godmother. Wait till your world is filled with nappies and feeding schedules.” Nora ran warm water in the sink, wet a washcloth and sat Sean in the sink for an abbreviated bath. She cleaned off the cereal as she talked and the baby wiggled. She washed his hands and nappy area for good measure. “If I didn’t have my writing and this play to look forward to, I’d go barmy. The parenting websites say he should be past the colic stage by now.” She wrapped Sean in a towel and walked back to his changing table.

  “You can’t believe everything you read on the Internet. He’s not quite six months old, Nora. Give the little bugger a break. New book done?”

  “Thankfully. Simon’s working on the illustrations. I get a break from writing, although I’m waiting to hear about a freelance assignment the end of next week.” Nora dried Sean off and dressed him, pausing to kiss his rounded belly. The baby giggled his pleasure. “I’m excited for this theatre troupe to arrive. I read the woman playing Madame Arcati is a real character, and
Blithe Spirit
is my favorite Noel Coward play.” She paused, lost in memory.

  “Your acting past explains why you’re such an accomplished liar.”

  “Unfair.” But perhaps true. “I haven’t seen the director, Grayson Lange, since I interviewed him for
People and Places
.”

  “I’m sure you can give him pointers.” Val yawned. “This place is boring me today. Remind me why I wanted to start an artists’ cooperative?”

  “Because you’re a talented textile artist and like to keep busy.”

  “All true. Noel Coward? Is that the one with the exes honeymooning in the same place?”

  “No, that’s
Private Lives
. In this one, writer Charles Condomine has a medium—that’s the Madame Arcati role—perform a séance as research for his new novel. She unwittingly calls up the ghost of his first wife—that’s the Elvira part—to the chagrin of his new wife, Ruth,” Nora explained. “Never seen the movie with Rex Harrison?”

  “No. You played a ghost? What fun. I’d pay to see that.”

  “It’s all done with one set, perfect to perform in a small space like Ramsey Lodge. Great marketing for Simon, too. He’s keen on the whole project.”

  “But that’s not the entire reason you’ve got your knickers in a twist. When’s Declan due to appear?”

  “Not till tomorrow. I can’t wait for that, either,” Nora admitted. “Although it’s not all about the sex.”

  “Yankee, it’s always about sex,” Val proclaimed. “I’ll want all the gory details. Customer here, we’ll talk again.” She hung up.

  Nora dressed Sean after kissing him again. His responding giggle reassured her. There was so much to this parenting thing. Websites and books left her feeling incompetent at times, accomplished at others. Sean often didn’t fit what Mumsnet.com described, but he seemed to be thriving and had a toothless grin for everyone he met. The moments when he wouldn’t settle seemed to happen when she needed him to do so most, and Nora wondered if he picked up on her higher stress level—like today’s.

  Her anticipation of the troupe’s arrival had increased in addition to the whirl of activity these last weeks, culminating with Saturday’s wedding at the lodge. Simon’s sister, Kate, had married her detective boyfriend, Ian Travers. The siblings owned and ran the lodge together. They’d been so good to her that Nora was happy to help out while Kate was on her honeymoon. Assisting where she could with anything related to the play was a role she’d assigned herself. She’d re-read the play and the lines were instantly familiar, taking her back to a time when acting had shaken her out of her grief after her father’s death. She tried to reconcile her memory of the eager and naïve college student she’d been then with the person she was now: a writer with a decent editorial and writing resume behind her, author of a children’s book series, single parent to Sean. A very modern woman, indeed.

  She looked around the nursery, a nook off her bedroom that the friends with whom she lived had helped her decorate. Simon’s artistic nature had led to the fluffy clouds on the pale-blue ceiling; Kate had refinished the vintage dresser that held Sean’s clothes and doubled as a changing table. That was Kate
Travers
now, Nora reminded herself.

  But the guest she anticipated most arrived tomorrow. Detective Inspector Declan Barnes would be in Cumbria for a walking holiday booked during his visit the past November. His was the only room not occupied by a member of Grayson Lange’s cast. A rush of anticipation ran through her.

  Time changed everything, Nora’s father used to tell her, and she had to admit that always proved true. She juggled caring for Sean with writing book manuscripts and taking on freelance assignments from the magazine for which she used to work, providing her a modest income. Royalties from the first children’s book had been small but consistent. She hoped the series would take off with Book Two.

  Nora sat in her comfortable wing-backed chair and settled Sean in the crook of her arm. She shouldn’t worry so much. Her adopted family at Ramsey Lodge had provided serious help after his birth. Even the visit from her mother and stepfather, who had come from Connecticut at Christmas for the baby’s christening, had gone well. She had expected her mother to be critical of her parenting. Instead, Amelia Tierney Scott had been supportive, proud of Nora and delighted with her first grandchild. Nora felt a giant hurdle had been crossed.

  The biggest changes were in her body and in the men in her life. She had a waist again and could see her feet but struggled with a few lingering pregnancy pounds. Simon had finally accepted that while she truly cared for him, she didn’t love him romantically. He was her confidante, protector and good friend but would never be her lover.

  Into that void had stepped Oxford Detective Declan Barnes. He had showed up at Ramsey Lodge soon after Sean’s birth, ostensibly to flush out details of an embezzling investigation reaching from Oxford into Cumbria. Nora, however, sensed his visit had been to check on her after the dramatic events leading up to Sean’s quick delivery: almost drowning at the hands of a murderer.

  She inhaled Sean’s sweet baby scent as she conjured up an image of the detective. In her mind, Declan wore a frown, and she knew that was because she often frustrated him. After he had
returned to Oxford, they had begun an email correspondence that had become more personal as the months passed. After Sean fell asleep each night, Nora looked forward to writing to the detective with the square jaw and grey eyes. When she felt she must be the only person awake during Sean’s middle-of-the-night feeds, there was often a late-night reply from Declan after hectic work hours on a case.

  She smiled at the memory of how she had irritated him when they had first met in Oxford and she had pushed her way into his investigation of the death of Val’s partner. Nora decided her loyalty to Val, and ultimately proving her innocence, had changed Declan’s mind from annoyance to respect. At least, she hoped that was true.

  She enjoyed their verbal bantering. Their emails had evolved from laid-back notes about the details of their day to longer missives in which they revealed likes and dislikes that went beyond a mutual appreciation for Adele’s music or a fondness for Indian food. She had confided the memory of her mother’s miscarriages while trying to give her a sibling and how that had been a factor in Nora’s decision to have Sean, despite having to raise him alone. He understood how her father’s death left her guilt ridden for years after she had turned down his invitation to go sailing and he’d drowned that very night. It was the one area where she failed at compartmentalizing things that bothered her.

  Declan was the reason she worked so hard to lose those last pounds clinging to her slight frame. Although their emails had taken on a more personal tone, she hadn’t seen him since November. It was easy to flirt online. The thought of seeing him tomorrow thrilled and scared her with its possibilities. Would he be everything she had built up in her imagination? What would happen if they became intimate, and more to the point, how could they accomplish that with her infant sleeping a few feet away? She blushed at her wild fantasies.

  Nora realized Sean had stopped fussing. He gazed solemnly at her as she scrutinized his face: those eyebrows that were the exact shape of Paul’s, the dimples when he smiled that reminded her of her fiancé, who had died fourteen months earlier in a plane crash. Sean had her coloring, and the shape of his lips belonged firmly to the Tierney side, but there could be no mistaking this was Paul Pembroke’s son. The thorny issue of letting Paul’s parents know they had a grandchild was an area she’d managed to wall off while she decided how to deal with it. Not expecting financial help from them had allowed her to assuage her moral duty to let Paul’s parents know that though their son was dead, he’d left a child behind. The longer she avoided it, the worse she felt and the more she ran away from dealing with it.

  But this week she had to figure out how to be a good mom while being a help to Simon and also find time alone with Declan to explore their relationship. Biting her lip, she reached for the baby sling and eased Sean into it. He was old enough to face the outside world, and the baby chortled and reached out his hands as she adjusted the straps and left the sanctity of her room.

*

9 AM

Declan Barnes resisted the impulse to check in with the station. Today you are not a detective inspector, he reminded himself. You are a guy taking a much-deserved hiking holiday in the Lake District. His team was in the capable hands of his detective sergeant, and all had been quiet when he spoke to Watkins last night.

  “Get an early start, guv. No need to come in today. All’s quiet and covered.”

  Bless Watkins. He looked at his open suitcase and bulging rucksack. Hiking required one kind of clothing and boots, but what of smarter clothes? He knew Nora had a mother’s help who babysat on occasion and often watched Sean when Nora was writing. Perhaps he should throw in a jacket in case he could convince her to leave Sean for a romantic dinner, provided he could peel her away from this theatre troupe she was barmy about. Didn’t babies mostly sleep in the evening, anyway?

  Declan rifled through his cupboard. He didn’t object to children as a rule, although he and his wife had divorced before having any. There had been women since then but none he felt compelled to see more than a few times, contrary to station gossip over his supposed stable of women. As if. Over time, he had understood that any woman he would have a long-term relationship with would have to accept the demands of The Job, as his colleagues referred to policing, and the uncertain hours that came with it. Until recently, he had seen himself staying single.

  Then he met Nora Tierney, the journalist with the stubborn temperament, who had a desire to delve into everything and the audacity to butt in everywhere. He grew frustrated with her ability to lie at the drop of a hat, a talent Nora merely scoffed at. She called it “improvising to fit a situation” when she interfered in his investigation. Despite her tendency to be such an actress at times, he grudgingly came to respect her tenacity as well her fidelity to those she loved. She reminded him at times of a puppy who wouldn’t let go of its toy, but his thoughts had become decidedly more carnal in nature as they had flirted online.

  After seeing her in November, he wanted to know what made her tick. He was surprised at how much he had revealed to her during their running correspondence. He felt comfortable with Nora, but that had all been on screen until now. The chemistry he felt in her presence glowed through her words, but she was an
accomplished writer. What would reality bring once they were in each other’s presence for more than an hour at a time?

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