been pleased …’ Helen paused, reluctant to ask the question uppermost in her mind. ‘About Alice – did you feel – I mean …’
‘Did I ask her about well – what we talked about – and yes, I did. I put it to her, then left it at that; didn’t want her to feel I was pressurizing her to come home. Where Tom is – that’s really her home, now. But I don’t want to lose her. The war took so much from me and she is one of the people I have left who understands. She was with me the day I met Andrew …’ Her eyes took on a remembering look, then she tilted her chin, and smiled. ‘When I left, Tom drove me to the station. He told me they’d talked about it – about Alice visiting us, I mean; said there was no reason at all why she shouldn’t stay with us. And he agreed with me that people should know that he and Alice are married.’
‘Then what are we to tell them?’ Helen frowned. ‘That he wasn’t killed, but taken prisoner …?’
‘Exactly that. Alice and I will tell the same story, be sure of it. No one shall ever know what really happened. We wouldn’t be so foolish as to say anything that would get him arrested, now would we?’
‘Then everything would seem to have worked out very well.’ Helen smiled tremulously. ‘And if we ever need to get in touch with Alice – about Drew, I mean – I believe there is a number we can use?’
‘In the village – it’s called West Welby, by the way. You can ring up from the Post Office, there. They’ve got a tiny switchboard at the back of the office, and if you give them one-and-sixpence for every trunk call, they’ll put you through with no trouble at all. Just one snag. They use an extension phone, so it isn’t very private. People waiting at the counter for stamps and postal orders can have a good old listen.’
‘But they could get a message to Alice?’
‘Of course they could. Alice sews for the postmistress; I believe they are quite friendly. But you seem obsessed with getting in touch with Alice. What has put the idea into your head?’
‘I don’t know. Just don’t want to lose touch, I suppose. And she is Drew’s mother, you know. In law –’
‘Dearest! Alice left Drew in our keeping and she knows we would do anything we had to for him. And I’m sure that if a real emergency arose, we could always ring Windrush – that’s where Tom’s employer lives. Mr Hillier seems a decent man and he’s devoted to Daisy. Never passes the house without taking a peep at her if she’s outside, in her pram. He gave her a beautiful christening mug …’
‘So everything would seem to be all right?’
‘More than all right. They are all very happy and one day soon Alice will visit us. I shall tell Reuben when I give him Alice’s birthday present that before so very much longer he’ll be seeing her. And would it be all right if she and Daisy stayed here?’
‘It would be perfect. And it would be good for Drew to get his nose pushed out a little. He gets far too much attention, that young man,’ she said fondly, complacently. ‘And he can get to know his sister.’
‘His half-sister,’ Julia cautioned. ‘But he isn’t old enough, yet, to be told the truth of it. We’ll have to be very careful when we do tell him; say the right things and not have him imagine his mother abandoned him.’
‘You are the only mother he’s ever known, Julia; he even calls you Mummy. But I agree we must break it to him carefully – when the time comes.’
She stopped, abruptly, as Mary brought in a joint of mutton.
‘What were you saying about Aunt Clemmy being in London?’ Julia hastened, filling the void.
‘I was – er – saying, dear, that she went down there two days ago, though why,’ Helen sighed, ‘I haven’t the slightest idea. She did tell me, though, that Nathan should be on his way home from Africa by now. So good to see him again …’
‘Will you carve, milady, or shall I?’ Clearly, Mary realized, there were to be no snippets to carry back to the kitchen.
‘You do it, Mary – then I’m sure we can look after ourselves quite nicely,’ Helen smiled.
No news at all, Mary brooded, as she closed the dining-room door behind her, because everyone already knew that the Reverend Nathan was expected home at any time and it was the best-known secret hereabouts that Mrs Clementina spent more time in her London house, nowadays, than ever she spent at Pendenys Place. And anyway, who was interested in the Pendenys Suttons? Even that Mr Elliot seemed to be behaving himself these days, she shrugged. Not so much as a whisper of scandal from that quarter. There were times, she was forced to admit, when life around Holdenby could be very dull indeed …
Tom rocked back and forth, humming softly. This was his special time; the time he took Daisy after her evening feed, laying her over his shoulder, cradling her tiny body with his hand, loving her nearness, the softness of her and her sweet baby smell.
‘Is she asleep, yet?’ Alice whispered. ‘Shall I put the kettle on?’
‘Leave it for a while. Sit yourself down, lass.’
Gladly, she did as he asked her, pulling off her shoes, wriggling her toes, contentment pulsing through her like a steady, warm heartbeat.
She looked at her husband through half-closed eyes, seeing the small smile of pleasure that tilted the corners of his mouth. This last half-hour of the day always belonged to Tom and Daisy; their together time, when he would rock her to sleep.
She smiled, wondering what pleased him so – apart from his daughter, that was. Closing her eyes, she set her chair rocking.
My, but they’d had a grand time, the three of them, Tom thought. These past four days had done Alice a power of good. He had never before realized how close the two women had grown. Sisters? They were that, all right. And how proud he’d felt at the christening. It was, Julia had said as he’d driven her to the station to catch the early morning train, quite the nicest she had ever been to.
‘I did so enjoy it. Daisy was very good,’ she smiled. ‘Well, apart from that cry of utter rage when she felt the water on her head. Did you know, Tom, that Daisy is my only godchild? No one has ever asked me before.’
‘It was kindly of you to accept, though Alice wouldn’t have taken no for an answer. The day the bairn was born she said she wanted you to stand for her. And it was good of you,’ he murmured, ‘to give her such a lovely present.’
‘It belonged to Grandmother Whitecliffe. I know it isn’t usual to give a brooch at a christening, but I thought sapphires would suit her eyes – if they stay so beautifully blue, that is.’
‘Alice was overcome. There are twenty-one stones in it. She counted.’
‘Very small stones, Tom. I really chose it because it was in the shape of a daisy, though daisy petals aren’t blue and the pearl in the middle should have been yellow.’
‘Alice says she won’t be allowed to wear it till she’s old enough to take good care of it.’
‘She’s my only god-daughter – take good care of her.’
‘You know I will. And here we are …’ He slowed the pony to a walk, guiding it carefully into the station yard,
