of bon-bons and nuts and Turkish Delight were scattered across small occasional tables in the elegant blue living room, for anyone to nibble on who wished, and even the everyday nursery meals could hardly be called everyday because of the way they tasted. Such things as steak-and-kidney pudding, apple dumplings, bacon-and-egg pie, Irish stew, and pork, beef and lamb roasts all had the most distinctive, mouth-watering flavours. As far as Audra was concerned, Cook was the first person to rival her mother in a kitchen; Mrs Jackson was forever coming up with something extra-special to tempt their palates. Audra’s favourites were Little Pigs of Heaven, a warm chocolate dessert that literally melted in the mouth, and Bandit’s Joy, a hot potato dish flavoured with honey and nutmeg that made a perfect accompaniment to saddle of mutton, and she had asked Mrs Jackson for the recipes for these dishes. On very special occasions, Mr Agiter, the butler, had been instructed by Mr Bell to serve her a glass of sparkling, ice-cold champagne. But she was already familiar with this wine, since it had not been out of the ordinary for her Uncle Peter to bring a bottle to celebrate her mother’s birthday, or for Christmas Day at High Cleugh. She and Frederick and William had always been allowed one small glass by their mother.
Apart from the wonderful food and vintage wines which seemed to flow without cease at Calpher House, there was a plethora of other things which added their distinctive touches to the sense of opulence that prevailed throughout.
Innumerable bowls and vases of flowers and exotic plants punctuated every room downstairs; the latest magazines and newspapers, current novels and other books spilled over large circular tables in the library, in Mrs Bell’s study and most especially in the family parlour where everyone seemed to congregate at night. Sofas and chairs were plump and inviting with piles of soft cushions, or they had their arms draped with fluffy mohair throws from Scotland, to be used on colder evenings wrapped around legs and shoulders.
Startled at first though she had been, and even a bit overwhelmed by all this luxury in one house, Audra had grown accustomed to it. Whilst it would be true to say that she enjoyed the comfort and the cosseting, she nonetheless did not consider it of any great importance in her life. The real reason she was happy at Calpher House was because her employers and the staff were all so nice, really good people who cared about others and their well-being.
These aspects of her job aside, it had been a fine year for Audra Kenton in other respects.
The letters which came from her brothers were much more positive these days, and were written in the same optimistic vein that had enhanced their earliest epistles to her. Frederick was growing stronger in health every week, and things had improved immeasurably for them. They both had good jobs in Sydney at long last. William was working in the circulation department of the Sydney Morning Herald; Frederick had become private secretary to an industrialist, a Mr Roland Matheson, and Audra was happy for them, and proud of the way they had coped with their initial bad luck and daunting set-backs. And knowing they were no longer in difficult straits made her own continuing sense of loss and yearning for them that much easier to bear.
Then again, she and Gwen had been able to spend a great deal of their free time together. Mrs Bell had kindly given her permission to invite Gwen to stay overnight at Calpher House on numerous occasions; she herself frequently travelled across to Horsforth to spend her day off with Gwen. Sometimes they took the tramcar into Leeds to browse in the stores and window shop, and she was beginning to know the city well. Quite often they went to the picture house, and recently they had seen their first talking picture, The Jazz Singer, starring Al Jolson.
June had been a particularly happy month for Audra, mostly because of the attention everyone paid to her twentieth birthday. How different it had been from the previous year, when she had spent that very special day in her life entirely alone. Her brothers’ cards had arrived from Australia not only in time but two days early; on the third, a small celebration was held in the nursery, with presents from the Bells and the staff at Calpher House.
And later that week, on Saturday, Mrs Thornton and Gwen had given a party for her at The Meadow. There had been a splendid summer tea on the lawn. The table, covered in a white cloth, had groaned under the weight of all manner of lovely things – cucumber-and-tomato sandwiches, a Yorkshire pork pie, trifle, strawberries and cream, big pots of hot tea, plus an iced cake with the message Happy Birthday, Audra written on it in pink icing sugar and twenty pink candles encircling the edge. And each member of her friend’s family had given her a small but significant gift. After tea they had trooped inside for dancing to the latest records, which they had played on Gwen’s new gramophone. They had done the Charleston to the strains of ‘Black Bottom’, ’Ain’t She Sweet’, and ‘Yes, Sir, That’s My Baby’, fox-trotted slowly to ‘Blue Skies’ and ‘Among My Souvenirs’, and everyone had thoroughly enjoyed themselves that night.
Charlie had been present, along with his brothers, Jem and Harry, Mike Lesley, his best friend, and a couple of his chums from medical school. He was still attentive to her whenever he got the opportunity, even though she did her level best to discourage him.
Once she had moved to Leeds the previous December and settled in with the Bells, Audra had spoken to Gwen about her brother. She had explained to her friend in the sweetest way that, as nice as Charlie was, he was not for her. She had asked Gwen not to encourage Charlie any more. Gwen had said she understood and agreed at once to stop ‘fanning the flames’, as she so aptly called it. But Audra had seen the hurt in her friend’s eyes and she had quickly added that it had nothing to do with Charlie per se, that men in general did not interest her for the time being. She had then announced, and in a very firm voice, that she had no intention of getting married, of settling down, until she was thirty at least.
Gwen had looked at her askance on hearing this, had eyed Audra with a degree of scepticism, but she had refrained from making any sort of comment. At least until last month – November the fifth to be exact – when she had come to Upper Armley to join in their celebrations on Bonfire Night.
Mrs Bell had told Audra she could invite Gwen to spend the night at Calpher House, since they were both off duty the following day. After one of Cook’s extra-special nursery teas, and as soon as it grew dark, they had gone outside for the lighting of the bonfire that Fipps, the gardener, had made in the grounds. They had shared the family’s fun, watching the fireworks, waving the sparklers which Mr Bell had produced, and eating piping hot chestnuts and roasted potatoes pulled from the embers of the fire. And then the two of them had gone off to the Guy Fawkes Day party and dance at Christ Church Parish Hall in Ridge Road.
Audra first saw the young man when everyone was crowding around the huge bonfire outside the hall, gathered to watch the burning of the effigy of Guy Fawkes.
He was alone, standing near the porch, leaning against the wall, smoking a cigarette. As he nonchalantly tossed it to the ground, then stubbed his toe on it, he glanced across at the commotion around the bonfire, noticed her, smiled.
Audra looked back at him and experienced a queer sensation, one that was unfamiliar to her. Shefelt suddenly faint and a little breathless, as if she had been punched.
His face was clearly illuminated in the glow from the fire and she saw that he was most arresting in appearance.
His dark hair, which came to a widow’s peak above a wide brow, was brushed to one side, parted on the left, and he had dark brows, light-coloured eyes. His face was sensitive, but it was the purity reflected in it that struck her so forcibly, made such a strong and lasting impression.
Their eyes connected. And locked. He gave her a hard, penetrating stare.
She flushed to her roots, looked quickly away.
A moment later, when she and Gwen turned around to go into the parochial hall, Audra noticed immediately that he was no longer propping up the wall, and she filled with disappointment.
