Victoria Holt (9 page)

“I suppose it was their mother who has died. I saw their father.”

“No. Not the mother. Their aunt. And you saw Sir Jason?”

“Yes, in his carriage. We met it in the lane.”

“He would have been coming from the funeral. He is the girls’ uncle. He and Lady Verringer had no children. A sadness for them, I knew. Fiona and Eugenie are Sir Jason’s wards—his brother’s children. They lost both their parents when they were quite young. Their home has always been the Hall…even when their parents were alive. Their father was a younger brother of Sir Jason. It was not, of course, like having children of their own and there is no direct heir. The Verringers have been at the Hall since it was built in the mid-fifteen hundreds. The whole of the Abbey lands came into their possession after the Dissolution of the Monasteries.”

“I see. I quite thought the girls were his.”

“They have been with me for three years. They came when Fiona was fourteen. She is the elder, though not by much. There is just about eighteen months between her and Eugenie. Yes, she must have been fourteen because she is seventeen now…but soon to be eighteen, so Eugenie will be turned sixteen.”

“The girls are mostly round about that age, are they?”

“From fourteen to eighteen. Very much like Schaffenbrucken, I imagine.”

“Yes, very much so.”

“I aim to turn out girls who will be fit to mingle in the highest society. That, I think, is important. Now to get down to practical matters. You will be taking English. That will consist of literature, of course. The girls study the classics with you. And I want you to concentrate on their social education. Conversation…debates on current affairs…We have a dancing master…ballroom dancing, you know. He comes three times a week but there will be dancing practice every day and you and perhaps one of the others will be in charge of that. Then there is music. Mr. Maurice Crowe gives lessons to the whole school once a week, but he teaches pianoforte and violin to those who want it. We concentrate on music and the arts generally. We have an art mistress in Eileen Eccles. She may be arriving tonight. I have had a word with her. You and she can arrange to put on a play for the school. We have done that before and it is a great success. Parents like to see their children act. Last time we were allowed to do it at the Hall. They have a very fine ballroom which is ideal for the purpose.”

“It sounds very interesting.”

“I am sure you will find it so. Now for sleeping arrangements. The rooms are necessarily small; they were once the sleeping quarters of the Lay Brothers and we are not allowed to tamper with anything structurally though Sir Jason has allowed one or two concessions to fit in with the school. For instance, we have partitioned one room as it was twice as large as the others, and made two bedrooms of it. It is not easy to accommodate so many people. One large dormitory would have been more normal. As it is we have two girls in each room and, as they are more or less in sections, I have put one mistress in charge of four bedrooms, which means eight girls. Your room is next to your four. You make sure that they are in their rooms every night, that they rise when the bell rings, and that they conduct themselves in an orderly manner.”

“A sort of house mistress.”

“Exactly, except that we are all under one roof and the other sections are not far away. The girls you will have are on the whole pleasant malleable creatures. Gwendoline Grey shares with Jane Everton. Gwendoline is the daughter of a professor and Jane’s father is a manufacturer in the Midlands. Not the same class as Gwendoline but plenty of money. I mix my girls carefully. Jane will learn from Gwendoline and perhaps Gwendoline a little from Jane. In the next room is the Honorable Charlotte Mackay. Her father is the Earl of Blandore, and she is with Patricia Cartwright, from a banking family. Caroline Sangton’s father is a city importer and she is with Teresa Hurst. By the way Teresa spends most of her holidays at school. Her father grows something in Rhodesia…tobacco, I think. Sometimes we can pack her off to her mother’s cousins, but not always, and I fancy they get out of having the child when they can.”

“Poor Teresa,” I said.

“Yes indeed. And I am also giving you the Verringer girls. They are in one of your rooms. So that is your little family as I call it. I am sure you will find everything goes smoothly. Now have you finished your tea? Then I will take you to your room myself. Your bags will be there and if you are not too tired and would like to look round I will show you. Perhaps you would like to freshen up after your journey. If you will come now we’ll go to your room and you can wash and change if you like and hang up your things. Then I will show you round the Abbey.”

“Thank you. That will be very interesting.”

“Come then.”

I followed her over the stone-flagged floors, up staircases rather like the one I had seen—treacherously narrow where it reached the post and wider at the other end, with its rope banister.

At length, we came to the bedrooms. Mine was small with thick stone walls which made it seem cold, and the window was long and narrow. There was a bed in it, a cupboard, a chair and a table.

“You are thinking it is a little spartan,” said Daisy. “Mine is the same. Remember this is an abbey and I impress on the girls that we are privileged to be here. Now I will show you where we wash. I have been allowed to divide this into cubicles…a great concession, I do assure you. The Lay Brothers would have washed in this trough which ran along the whole length of this section. However, you will find this more in keeping with modern times. I have put mirrors in too. Now you have seen your quarters and the rooms of the girls who will be in your charge. Shall I send for you in half an hour? One of the maids will bring you to my study and then we can go on our tour of exploration.”

I washed, changed my traveling clothes and hung up my things in the cupboard. I was rather unsure of my feelings. I was excited by everything I had seen and I felt that I understood Daisy Hetherington, respected her and would get along moderately well with her. On the other hand, although I found my surroundings of immense interest there were moments when I was repelled by them. Perhaps it was because the past was too close; it intruded. What could one expect within the actual walls of an abbey!

I was ready and waiting when the summons came. I was imagining telling Aunt Patty all about it when we were together in the summer. That cheered me considerably.

I was conducted to the presence of my employer.

“Ah!” Her cool blue eyes surveyed me and I gathered she approved of my white blouse and navy blue skirt. “Here you are. Now I will take you first over our own establishment. If there is time I will give you some idea of the surroundings, but these you will discover in more detail later. I have a picture here of the Abbey as it was before the Dissolution. It wasn’t drawn until the beginning of this century, but it is a good job of reconstruction and it wasn’t so difficult with the outline there, as you might say. Only the slightest degree of imagination was necessary. Our monks were Cistercians and so the Abbey is built in that style. You see it is constructed on either side of a stream which runs into the fish ponds. They in their turn go into the river. We are about eight miles from the sea. There are three fish ponds, one flowing into another. There are some good fish in there too. Emmet and some of the others fish there frequently and much of our Friday fish comes from the ponds. I think it is a very important tradition. Here you can see the nave and the transept. That is the chapel of six altars. There is the Chapter House and the Gate House and the Great Hall…the Abbot’s House, the refectory, the storehouse and buttery. You’ll find everything on the plan. And here
we
are. Now…shall we go?”

We came out into the fresh air. It seemed warm outside. Daisy talked as we went along. It was a fascinating tour and I found I could not take in all I had to see; but what I was deeply aware of was the brooding atmosphere of the Abbey—and particularly that part which was roofless. It seemed uncanny to walk over those stone flags, past great pillars which seemed meaningless since they were supporting walls and arches which were now a ruin, and through which I could see the sky. I understood how imaginative people fancied they heard the sound of bells and the chanting of monks when dusk fell. I had yet to see the place without the bright sunshine. I could believe it was very eerie in the dusk and for the first time I wondered whether Daisy Hetherington had been wise in taking part of the old Abbey for her school. Wouldn’t it have been better in some fresh open country or facing the sea somewhere along the South Coast?

But of course it did make the school unique, and that was what Daisy was striving for.

“You are silent, Cordelia,” she said. “I understand. You are overcome. It is the effect it has on all sensitive people.”

“The girls…how do they feel about all this antiquity?”

“Frivolous creatures most of them…unaware of it.”

“And the mistresses?”

“Oh, I think some of them are surprised when they first come. But it grows on them. They realize that they are privileged.”

I was silent. I touched the rough stone wall and looked through the Norman arch to the sky. Daisy Hetherington patted my arm. “Come along in,” she said. “We dine at seven thirty.”

Dinner was served in the Lay Brothers’ Refectory which must have been more or less the same as it was seven centuries before with its vaulted ceiling and long narrow slits of windows.

Daisy presided at the head of the table looking like an abbess herself. The food was excellent. “All home grown,” she told me. “It is one of the features of the place. We have plenty of space. The old kitchen gardens for instance, and we make good use of them. I have two gardeners working full time, and Emmet helps out. So do the other stable boys.”

I could see that this was a very large establishment. It made Grantley Manor seem almost amateur in comparison.

At dinner I was introduced to Mademoiselle Jeannette Dupont, Fräulein Irma Kutcher and Eileen Eccles, the art mistress, who had arrived. I was able to talk both in French and German which delighted not only those I talked to but Daisy herself who, although she herself did not venture beyond English, liked to stress the fact that I was fluent in both languages.

Jeannette Dupont was in her mid-twenties, I imagined, and rather pretty. Irma Kutcher wasn’t much older but appeared to be as she was rather stern-looking and I was sure took her post very seriously.

Eileen Eccles was the typical art mistress with rather untidy hair and expressive dark eyes; she wore a loose dress of mingling shades of brown with a faint touch of scarlet and she looked every inch the artist.

We talked of school matters, and I had the feeling that I should not find it too difficult to fit into Daisy’s establishment. She herself did most of the talking and it was all about the school and the idiosyncrasies of certain pupils. I felt I was getting a real grasp of everything.

When dinner was over we went into Daisy’s study and there the conversation continued in the same vein until she said she was sure I was tired and would like to retire.

“The rest of the mistresses will be arriving tomorrow or the next day. And on Tuesday all the girls who have been home will be coming back.”

Mademoiselle asked if the Verringer sisters would be returning on Tuesday.

“Of course,” said Daisy. “Why not?”

“I’ave think,” said Mademoiselle, “that there is this death in the family…and they stay at home to mourn.”

“Sir Jason wouldn’t want that. They’ll be better off at school. They’ll be joining us on Tuesday. Charlotte Mackay will be with them. She has been spending the holiday at the Hall. It must have been rather awkward to have her there at such a time. However, I believe the families know each other. Now, I am sure Miss Grant is very tired. Miss Eccles, perhaps you would take Miss Grant to her room. I am sure she will soon find her way around but just at first it can be confusing.”

Miss Eccles rose and led the way.

When we were on the staircase, she turned to me and said: “Daisy can be a little overpowering at times. It’s not so bad when there are more of us.”

I didn’t answer that but merely smiled and she went on: “This place takes a bit of getting used to. I can’t tell you the number of times I nearly packed up and went home during my first term. But I stuck it out, and in a funny sort of way it grows on you. I think I’d be rather sad to leave now.”

“Mademoiselle and Fräulein seem very pleasant.”

“They’re all right. So is Daisy in her way. All you have to do is keep on the right side of her and remember that, like God, she knows all, sees all and is always right.”

“Sounds simple but faintly alarming.”

“Keep everything in order and she’s all right. Have you taught before? Oh no, I remember you’ve just come from Schaffenbrucken. I ought not to forget that. Daisy’s told us about a dozen times already.”

“They make such a fuss about that place.”

“It is the
ne
plus
ultra
.”

I laughed.

“At least in Daisy’s eyes,” she went on. “You’re teaching social graces, I believe.”

“Yes, I have to work out how I am going to do that.”

“Just walk in the steps of Schaffenbrucken and you can’t go wrong.”

“It must be gratifying to teach art when you find talent.”

“We haven’t a Rubens or a Leonardo among us, I’m afraid. At least, if there are, we haven’t at the moment discovered them. If they can produce a recognizable landscape I’m happy enough. Perhaps I’m not being quite fair. There are actually two girls who have a little talent. Here you are. This is where you sleep. You’ve got the important Verringers under your wing. I think that’s because Daisy feels they might imbibe a little Schaffenbrucken even while they’re sleeping. There! It’s a little chilly. It always is. You could easily imagine you were a monk. Daisy likes us to follow the monastic ways as much as possible. Don’t worry. They haven’t laid out your hair shirt. You just forget you’re in an abbey and get a good night’s sleep. I’ll see you in the morning. Good night.”