opened the door and poked her head around it, smiling. ‘Tea is ready!’ she announced. ‘And Miss Paula is back from her ride. She said to tell you she’ll be here in a few minutes. She’s changing out of her riding clothes.’
‘Thank you, Hilda. I’ll be there shortly.’
‘Ring if you need anything, madame,’ Hilda added, and then went down to the kitchen to have her own tea and give a word of praise to Cook.
When Paula came in a little while later she stood in the doorway and caught her breath, unexpectedly moved by the beauty of the parlour. It was hushed and still, as if time had passed it by. The only sound was the crackling of the fire that burned in the huge hearth. Sunshine filtered in through the tall leaded windows, dusky and golden, bathing the furniture and paintings in a mellow light, and the air, heavy with the perfume of hyacinths and spring flowers, flowed around her, enveloping her in its heady fragrance. There was something poignant about this great old room. Memories stirred within her, faintly elusive and nostalgic. She glided silently across the floor, almost afraid to move within that stillness, fearful that the rustling of her dress might disrupt and destroy that gentle peace. She sank on to one of the sofas and her eyes roamed around the room. Here it was easy to forget that there was a world outside, a world full of pain and ugliness and despair. She drifted gently on the edge of memory, recalling her childhood in this ancient place, the happy times she had spent here with her mother and father, her cousins and her young friends. And Grandy. Always Grandy. Her grandmother was never far away, always there to wipe away her tears, laugh at her childish pranks, admire her small achievements and to scold and cosset and love her. Her grandmother had made her what she was. It was Grandy who had told her she was clever and beautiful and special. Unique, she had said. It was Grandy who had given her inner security and confidence and strength, who had taught her to face the truth without fear and with a courageous heart …
She did not hear Emma come in, so soft was her step. Emma, too, paused to admire, but her attention was focused solely on Paula. How lovely she looks, Emma thought, like a figure from some old painting, remote and wistful, the maiden with the unicorn.
‘There you are, darling!’ Emma exclaimed. ‘You’re looking beautiful and refreshed after your ride.’
Paula glanced up swiftly, momentarily startled. ‘Oh, Grandy, you made me jump. I was miles away.’
As Emma seated herself opposite Paula her eyes lighted on the tea tray. ‘My goodness, look at all this food. Hilda is too much,’ she murmured, shaking her head in mild exasperation. ‘How can we eat all this! It’s only a few hours to dinner.’
Paula laughed. ‘I know! Perhaps she feels you need building up. You know how she fusses over you. But she’s really gone to town today. It’s like the nursery teas she used to make when I was small.’
‘I’m not hungry at all,’ Emma murmured, ‘and she’s going to be so hurt if we don’t eat anything.’
‘I’m ravenous, so don’t worry,’ Paula remarked, picking up a sandwich. ‘It was cold up there on the moors and I rode for miles. It’s given me quite an appetite.’ She bit into the sandwich as Emma looked on approvingly.
‘I’m glad to see you eating for once. You always seem to pick at your food. No wonder you’re so thin …’
The telephone on Emma’s desk rang. Paula jumped up. ‘Don’t disturb yourself, darling,’ she said, dashing across the room, ‘it’s probably only one of the family.’
She picked up the phone. ‘Yes, Hilda. I’ll take it. Hello? It’s Paula. Do you want to speak to Grandmother?’ She listened briefly and said, ‘Oh, all right. Yes. Fine. Goodbye.’ Paula came back to her place on the sofa. ‘It was Aunt Elizabeth. She’s coming tomorrow morning and bringing the twins … and the husband!’
‘So now we know,’ Emma remarked with a chuckle. The telephone rang again. ‘Oh dear, I do hope they’re not all going to call and tell us when they are arriving. This could go on for the rest of the day,’ Emma exclaimed impatiently.
Paula hurried across the room and took the call, which as always was monitored first by Hilda. ‘Emily! How are you?’ she cried when she heard her cousin’s voice. They were close friends. ‘Yes, of course you can. She’s right here.’ Paula put the phone down on the desk and motioned to Emma. ‘It’s Emily, Grandy, she wants to talk to you.’
‘Knowing Emily, this could be quite an involved conversation,’ Emma said with a smile, and picking up her cup of tea, she took it with her to the desk. Sitting down, she lifted the phone and said briskly, ‘Hello, darling. How are …’
‘I’m fine, Grandmother,’ Emily interrupted in her young breathy voice, in a tremendous rush as always. ‘I can’t talk long! I’m in a frightful hurry! But I just wanted to tell you that Sarah is flying up from London this afternoon. I’m going to pick her up at Yeadon airport at six-thirty, so we’ll definitely be there for dinner. Oh, and Alexander said to tell you he might be late. Uncle Kit’s being truculent about that machinery. He’s had Alexander going over all the figures again. Alexander’s furious! Well, anyway, he thinks he can be at Pennistone by eight o’clock, if that isn’t too late. Also, Jonathan is taking the train up from London to Leeds. But he said not to send Smithers. He’ll get a taxi.’
All of this had issued forth in a steady uninterrupted stream, in Emily’s typical fashion, which Emma was quite accustomed to. She sat back comfortably, an amused glint in her eyes, listening attentively, occasionally sipping her tea. Emily was always pressed for time, even more so than she was herself, and it often occurred to Emma that her voluble and volatile young grand-daughter seemed to speak in a series of exclamation marks. Now she said teasingly, ‘For someone in a rush this seems to be a very long conversation, Emily dear.’
‘Grandy! Don’t be mean! I can’t help it if all your idiot grandchildren make me the repository of their messages. Ooh! I’ve one more. Philip is going to try and come with me; if not, he’ll drive over with Alexander. Grandy dear …’ Emily paused and her voice dropped, was suddenly soft and full of lilting charm. ‘Can I ask a favour?’
‘Of course, darling,’ Emma replied, repressing an amused but loving smile. She knew that cajoling tone of Emily’s only too well, adopted whenever she wanted something.
‘Could I borrow one of your evening dresses, please? I only brought a few things when I came up to Bradford last week. I didn’t know you would be giving a big family party. I’ve nothing to wear. I looked through the store here today and everything is so dowdy! And I simply don’t have time to go over to the Leeds store.’
Emma laughed. ‘If you think the clothes in the store are dowdy, I don’t know what you’ll find here, dear,’ she remarked, wondering what on earth a pretty twenty-one-year-old blonde dynamo could possibly find suitable in her wardrobe.
‘That red chiffon dress! The one from Paris! It fits me. So do the red silk shoes,’ Emily rushed on excitedly. ‘I knew you wouldn’t mind me trying it on, so I did last weekend when I was at Pennistone. It looks super on me, Grandy. Please, can I borrow it? I’ll be careful.’
‘I’d forgotten about that dress, Emily. Of course you can wear it, if you wish. I don’t know why I ever bought it in the first place. Perhaps you’d like to keep it,’ Emma suggested generously.
Emily sucked in her breath in delighted surprise but said, ‘Oh, Grandy darling, I couldn’t do that!’ There was another little pause. ‘Don’t you want it, Grandmother?’
