calling me Alexander.’
‘And I’m not Thomas. I’m Tom-Tom,’ the smaller child lisped.
‘I’ll remember.’ Lily smiled. She turned to the woman. ‘And you’re…Bea?’ she asked shyly.
‘That’s right, dear—Jill-of-all-trades and mistress of none!’ She looked down at the children. ‘Aren’t you going to say hello to Lily properly, boys?’
‘Hi, Lily,’ they chorused obediently.
‘That’s right. Now, Freya is out playing tennis at the moment,’ Bea explained, ‘but she’ll be back in an hour. Do come on through, Lily. Theodore is busy in his private study at the moment, but he’ll be finished shortly.’
Lily tried to take in her surroundings all at once—something she was very good at—and she was aware straight away of the luxury which surrounded her. The huge oak-floored entrance hall was enhanced at one end by a massive antique dresser on which stood two golden-shaded lamps, some expensive-looking objets d’art, and in the centre a silver-framed photograph of a beautiful dark-haired young woman. Lily glanced away quickly, not wanting to appear inquisitive—she didn’t need telling who that was. It could only be Elspeth, whose picture there—to be met by the gaze of every visitor—told its own story. She was still mistress here. Still the most important woman in the house.
Lily was ushered into a spacious, sunny, high-ceilinged room, with three large patterned sofas facing each other, and various footstools and small occasional tables. There was a mirror over the ornate fireplace, and on the mantelpiece were family photos—the one in the centre being of Elspeth, surrounded by her three children. The full-length windows were curtained to the floor in ivory and red striped material, and although opulence screamed at her from every angle, Lily immediately felt this to be a homely room—a room to be enjoyed rather than admired. To prove the point, the two boys immediately leapt on to one of the sofas and started having a friendly fight.
Lily wandered across to look at the garden, which was not only full of fruit trees and flowering bushes, but also the usual trappings of childhood—a climbing frame and a slide, a sandpit, and several footballs lying in corners.
She looked back at Bea, smiling. ‘Everything’s lovely,’ she said, and the older woman nodded.
‘Yes,’ she said, ‘it is.’ She sighed. ‘I understand that you’ve been told of the circumstances here? So sudden… so sad,’ she added.
‘Yes,’ Lily said quickly, glancing across at the boys.
Bea followed her gaze. ‘It is beginning to get easier,’ she said quietly, ‘and we still talk about Mummy, of course.’ She raised her voice. ‘Now then, boys—who’s going to help me in with the tea things?’
The children immediately scrambled off the sofa and followed Bea out of the room, and Lily sank down on to one of the upholstered stools for a moment. She had never set foot in such a place in her life. Bella and Rosie’s home didn’t even come close, she thought. For a moment, she panicked. What was she doing here? Had she had a sudden rush of blood to the head in agreeing to do this? Theodore Montague might have seemed a pleasant person away from England, but she was in no doubt that he could be very different in a work situation. And that was what she was here for. To work.
She could hear the children’s raised voices in the distance—obviously coming from the kitchen—and Lily dropped her head into her hands for a second. Here she was, having to prove herself once more, she thought. Somewhere new, with different people—whose true expectations were unknown.
‘Is everything all right?’ The well-remembered dark tones cut into her reverie, and Lily raised her head quickly, standing up. Her new employer stood just inside the door, looking across at her with that whimsical expression on his face she’d come to recognise. He was wearing chinos and a dark rugby shirt and his hair was tousled, as if he’d been running his hands through it.
‘Of course—yes—everything’s fine,’ Lily said, not bothering to add that all day yesterday she’d been fighting off a migraine—which would probably account for her light-headedness today, she realised. ‘I was just thinking what a beautiful home this is,’ she said, smiling briefly.
He nodded, then came over to stand next to her. She seemed even smaller today than he remembered her. Younger, and rather vulnerable… He wondered whether she’d be robust enough to deal with his sometimes obstreperous children. Then he shrugged inwardly. She’d only be here for a few months, and at least once she was back at school his daughter would only be present for two days out of every seven.
‘You had no difficulty finding us?’ he enquired, glancing down at her. She was dressed in blue jeans and a white T-shirt, her hair tied up in one long plait at the back.
‘No, it’s an easy address,’ she said, in answer to his question. ‘And it’s actually on my bus route. It only took half an hour.’
‘I did offer to fetch you…’ he reminded her.
‘There was no need for that,’ Lily said quickly. ‘At least I know what to do if my car refuses to start.’
Just then the tea trolley made its entrance, pushed enthusiastically by Tom and Alex, with Bea coming behind, holding the teapot and hot water.
‘Careful, boys,’ Theo said. ‘We’d like those cakes on the plate rather than on the floor, thank you.’
Everyone sat down, while Bea handed out plates and paper napkins, and Lily glanced around, struck by the easygoing atmosphere. There were dainty little sandwiches, and buttered scones with jam and cream, and some small squares of iced cake. The children, sitting side by side on one of the sofas, tucked in to everything they were offered. Even the three-year-old seemed to have no difficulty in eating food from a plate balanced on his small knees, though he was given a plastic mug to drink his tea from. Lily noticed that there was not a crisp or a sausage or a soft drink in sight—the children were enjoying afternoon tea, and she sensed their mother’s hand in that.
Lily automatically glanced up at Elspeth’s photograph, captivated by the woman’s warm, engaging expression—somehow she felt that she, Lily, was being appraised by someone no longer here, yet whose presence was tangible. I’ll do my best, she promised. I will try to do my best.
Although all the food looked delicious, Lily could only manage one sandwich and a small cake. As usual, when she was on edge, her appetite disappeared. But she was glad of the strong, unsweetened tea, and she allowed Bea to refill her cup. She noticed that Theo was not eating anything at all, but sat beside his sons, a half-drunk cup of tea on the small table beside him.
Conversation was dominated by Bea, telling everyone to help themselves, and the chattering of the boys, who were not in the least shy. Well, they’d become used to countless strangers passing through their lives, Lily thought, so one more was no big deal. In fact, after the first few moments of their initial meeting, she’d been more or less ignored by Tom and Alex. They were beautiful children, with naturally wavy fair hair, but their dark eyes—even at this early stage—exactly matched their father’s. Glancing at Theo, she realised that he had been watching her, and she wondered what he was thinking. Well…the fact that she was here at all was his idea, not hers. And it had not been just an idea, either—it had been a plea. A plea she’d found irresistible.
She met his gaze unblinkingly. She’d try to fill this temporary gap to his satisfaction, she thought. They’d all survive her efforts—and
