Kitabı oku: «Master of His Fate», sayfa 6

ELEVEN

James Lionel Falconer was now seventeen and a striking young man, not only because of his chiselled good looks, fair complexion and deep blue eyes, but because of his height. He was just under six feet.

None of the other Falconers was as tall, and, in fact, most people in general were much shorter than him.

Aside from these physical assets, he was naturally charming, had a congenial nature, and was also thoughtful to others, and kind. He owed these latter traits to his grandmother, Esther, who had taught him a lot of things when he was young. She had made sure he had excellent manners and behaved with politeness and decorum at all times. And to everyone, whoever the person was.

As she looked across the Falconers’ kitchen at him, Esther felt a swell of pride. There was no one quite like James that she knew of, anyway, and that included the children of her employers, Lady Agatha and the Honourable Mister, as her husband called Arthur Montague. To Esther, her grandson was quite unique, but then they had tried to give him the best of everything to ensure that he could follow his dream. James was as ambitious and driven as ever, and looked to the future with great hope. Esther did not worry. He was going places. It had been ordained.

As if he was aware she was staring at him, James swung his head and smiled at her. ‘Uncle Harry’s doing very well here, Grans. He’s the best chef around.’

‘I know that,’ Esther answered, laughter in her voice. ‘I taught him, you know.’

Harry said, ‘That’s why I will be forever grateful to you, Ma. For putting me on the right track when I was a little boy. And one day I’ll have my own restaurant, you’ll see.’

‘You’re not doing so badly now, Harry,’ Esther pointed out. ‘You have a very nice little café in Marylebone, and it’s been successful ever since you started making snacks to go with the coffee.’

Harry nodded. ‘It’s still really only a coffee shop, though; not really a café, even.’

‘The right time will come,’ Esther said, and looked down at the fine cotton shirt she was making for James, and plied her needle once more.

Rossi, now fifteen, was sitting beside her doing exactly the same thing. She said, ‘I agree with Grandma. I know we’ll enjoy the supper tonight. Everything smells delicious, Uncle Harry.’

He waved the wooden spoon in the air, laughing. He was intent on a pot on the range. ‘Thanks, Rossi,’ he answered without turning his head, concentrating on the food on the stove, stirring the pot.

Harry, with James as helper, was preparing supper at his brother Matt’s house in Camden. It had become a ritual in the summer: Saturday night supper for the entire family cooked by Harry.

July, August and September were the months that Lady Agatha, her husband and two younger children were on their annual sojourn in France, and sometimes Italy. Their absence meant that Philip and Esther were free to join them.

It was looked upon as a special family affair; the supper gave them a chance to catch up on things and enjoy each other’s company. George, the middle brother, usually arrived a bit late; he was working on a newspaper these days and often had to do Saturday duty. But he always made it in time for the second course.

After looking in the oven, peering at the leg of lamb, basting it, Harry asked James to start making the mint sauce. ‘And mind you chop the mint very fine,’ he added, glancing at his nephew. ‘Then you can start preparing the base for the gravy, please. The ingredients are next to that basin over there.’

A moment later, Maude walked into the kitchen, thinking how welcoming it looked with the fire blazing up the chimney, but the light in general was a bit dim.

She had gone upstairs to change and had put on what she called ‘my best dress’, which she had made herself. The colour was unusual, a deep lilac that was almost mauve. Tailored and stylish, it fell to her ankles and had long sleeves. A cream lace shawl-style collar and cuffs gave the silk dress a certain elegance.

Maude had swept her dark glossy hair up in a twist, and on the crown a pile of curls was held in place by tortoiseshell combs. Her wedding ring was her only piece of jewellery. She was thinner these days, still prone to winter colds, like the nasty one she had suffered some years back, which had scared them all, but healthy.

Esther nodded in approval, and exclaimed, ‘Maude, here you are at last, and it was well worth the wait. You do look lovely, my dear.’

‘Thank you,’ Maude said, moving gracefully into the large kitchen. She headed for a chest of drawers, took out a box of Swan Vesta matches and went to the gas lamps on the walls. These she lit, one after the other.

‘That’s better. I can now see you all,’ she announced. The kitchen had instantly taken on a rosy glow as the lamps flickered brightly.

‘It was growing dim in here,’ Harry told her. ‘Come and see my leg of lamb. Gorgeous, ain’t it?’

Maude joined him, looked into the oven, and agreed with him that she had never seen one better.

For once Esther ignored Harry’s use of slang; she had been correcting his speech for years, often to no avail, and had now given up. She was more concerned about his life in general. He was already thirty-one, and there was no sign of a woman in his life. She wished he would meet someone, start courting and eventually marry. She wanted her two other sons to be settled, and the sooner the better. As for George, who was thirty-three, he seemed to be married to his newspaper.

There’s nothing I can do about any of it, Esther thought, a sigh escaping. She stuck the needle into the fine cotton shirt carefully, folded it neatly, and then put it in a linen bag at her feet. Standing, she took the bag into the parlour across the hall. Observing her grandmother, Rossi did the same, and followed her.

‘We had better light the gas lamps,’ Rossi said, as she entered the small sitting room. ‘It’s gloomy in here.’

‘Yes, I’ll do that,’ Esther answered, and found the matches. Instantly the parlour looked more welcoming with the gaslights burning, and the two of them returned to the kitchen.

Rossi made for a cupboard, took out two white tablecloths, and her mother helped her to spread them on the long oak table. Once they were in place, Rossi, Maude and Esther went to the china cupboard and began to take out plates and dishes. Within a short time, they had set ten places at the table, added glasses and cutlery. They put candlesticks down the middle of the table, and added the white candles.

‘Ten of us again?’ Esther murmured, turning to Rossi.

‘Yes. Denny Holden will be arriving shortly. You see, he just loves our suppers. He says he has never seen anything like them, or tasted such delicious food. He’s from a small family, Grandma, and I know he loves to be amongst boisterous us. Anyway, he and James have been close friends for years, working together on the stalls.’

Maude said, ‘There’s not a boy I know in these parts who’s nicer than Denny. It cheers him up to join us. His mother’s a bit poorly at the moment.’

Esther nodded. ‘I like Denny. He’s very polite and … well … rather reserved. In any case, it’s always rewarding to do someone a good turn. I like his father. Jack’s a decent man.’

Almost on cue, there was a knock on the door. Rossi ran to open it, to find Denny standing on the doorstep. She gave him a quick once-over and smiled inwardly. He had undoubtedly made a huge effort to dress appropriately, and was wearing a dark suit, a white shirt and a tie. The suit looked stylish, of the moment.

‘You look very smart,’ she whispered as she drew him into the house.

‘It’s a new suit,’ he whispered back. ‘Pa bought it for me at one of those shops which sells suits put together like this. I think they’re called ready-made.’

When they walked into the kitchen together, James waved, then hurried over to Denny, greeted him warmly. For his part, Denny said hello to everyone, and James announced, ‘It’s getting a bit crowded in here, and Uncle Harry does need to concentrate on the food. Let’s go into the parlour.’ They all agreed, and James led the way.

As they were settling down in the chairs and on the sofa, Eddie came running in, a happy smile on his face. He was followed by Philip, who was also smiling.

Rushing over to Maude, Eddie said, ‘Grandpapa mended my easel, Mum. It works again. I can paint tomorrow!’

‘I knew he could fix it for you, Eddie.’

Eddie, who was now twelve, leaned against the arm of the chair, and looked up at his mother, his happiness reflected on his young face. He was never far from her side.

Philip took a seat on the sofa next to his wife, and said, ‘I only needed a screwdriver. A few of the screws had come loose.’

Esther nodded. ‘I’m happy it was easy. Eddie is quite talented, you know, good at drawing. He’s given me several of his paintings.’

Rossi, as always, jumped up first when she heard the knocking on the front door. ‘Uncle George has arrived!’ she exclaimed, and she was correct. George stood there holding bunches of flowers in his arms, and grinning at her.

‘Oh my goodness!’ Rossi cried, staring at the profusion of flowers as she took him into the parlour. George handed a posy to Rossi, Maude and his mother. The three of them thanked him profusely, and after greeting them all, he said, ‘I’ll just go and see my brother the chef.’ James went with him.

Whilst George was talking to Harry, James went back to his small duties as his uncle’s helper. He had finished the mint sauce, had remembered to add the sugar to it. The base for the gravy was almost ready to go into the meat pan, once the leg of lamb came out.

James was slicing the loaf of bread when the sound of a key in the door told him that his father had arrived home from the Malvern. Now the entire family was here, and soon the supper would commence.

When Esther and Maude led the others into the kitchen to start supper, they both glanced at each other and smiled. Now they knew why Rossi had suddenly disappeared, after taking George’s flowers from them. These were now arranged in small vases down the table. Salt, pepper and sauces had been put here and there, white napkins were at each place, and two bottles of red wine had been uncorked and stood on the chest in order to breathe.

‘You did a lovely job,’ Maude said, smiling at her fifteen-year-old daughter.

‘Thank you, Mum, but it was James who helped me and then he opened the red wine, as per Grandpapa’s instructions earlier.’

‘Certainly the table looks perfect and the smells emanating from the range are mouthwatering,’ Esther remarked as she sat down, thinking that Harry had probably outdone himself tonight.

Within a few seconds, a stack of soup dishes stood next to Maude’s place where she sat at one end of the table; suddenly Harry was there carrying a huge tureen, followed by James with a ladle. Harry placed the tureen on the other side of Maude.

‘Please serve the soup, Maude,’ Harry said, and took an empty soup dish from the pile, put it in front of her. He picked it up when the soup was in the dish and took it away. Then it was James’s turn to serve a bowl of soup, then Matt, and so on, until everyone had a bowl and was dipping into their mulligatawny soup, declaring it delicious.

Empty dishes were whisked away, and the next course was ready to be served: thinly sliced leg of lamb, individual Yorkshire puddings, roasted potatoes and cauliflower. It was Harry who put four gravy boats on the table, two at each end, and also glass dishes of mint sauce. Matt carved the huge roast lamb, which had been put in front of him. James and George helped by carrying covered tureens of vegetables to the table, along with a huge platter holding ten individual Yorkshire puddings. And Denny, who had wanted to help, had been assigned the task of walking around the table offering the sliced bread to the diners.

Matt served the meat on plates in the same way Maude had ladled out the soup, and everyone helped themselves to the vegetables on the table, once the lids had been swiftly removed by James, Harry and George.

Once a full plate sat in front of every person, James and his grandfather went around the table pouring the wine, but Rossi and Eddie were only allowed a thimbleful in a glass of water.

Everyone enjoyed the food and being together, and there was much laughter and jokes and serious talk between George, Matt and their father about current politics. And George’s Fleet Street gossip about former prime ministers such as Disraeli and Gladstone was entertaining. But it was Rossi who surprised them all when she announced, ‘I like Salisbury best,’ referring to the present prime minister.

This comment led to more discussion, but soon amusing stories about the latest actresses on the London stage and other celebrities took over, as a more colourful subject than politics.

After chatting for a while and then clearing the dishes, Harry, George and James brought out clean plates. Harry presented the family with their favourite dessert. His very special plum pudding with Mr Bird’s ‘magic custard’, as he called it.

James was by nature a fast walker, but he slowed his steps tonight in order to stay in line with his grandfather. Philip walked between Harry and himself, and following on behind them were George and Denny on either side of his grandmother.

After supper they had relaxed for a while, drinking tea and continuing to chat, until Esther announced she and Philip had to leave. They were extremely conscientious, and never stayed away from the Montague home near Regent’s Park for too long. They were in charge when the family was in France for the summer, and did not wish to neglect their duties. Philip considered them to be the custodians of the Honourable Mister’s property.

His uncle George was staying the night with them, as he often did, since Sunday was his day off from the paper. James knew George enjoyed this break and the chance to spend time with Philip, and especially Esther, who spoiled him.

He and Denny had decided to go along for the walk after Harry had invited them to come to his café for coffee and cakes.

They had been intending to spend the rest of the evening at Tango Rose, a bar just off the Strand. But the three-mile walk from Camden to the bar seemed such a long way all of a sudden. So James had accepted his uncle’s invitation. Denny was disappointed because he liked one of the barmaids, but James was now relieved, wanted to avoid the place. Harry had told him earlier that Tango Rose was full of bad people, and they should stay away, must never go back.

James shivered slightly as they walked along. Even though it was July, it had turned cool, and the thought of a hot cup of coffee was most appealing. They were not too far away from their destination, already entering the district of Marylebone where Harry’s café was located on the High Street.

When they finally arrived, Harry exclaimed, ‘Here we are then! Are you sure you won’t come in for a cuppa, Mother? What about you, Father?’

‘Another time, son,’ Philip answered, hugging Harry, who in turn hugged his mother and his brother, and James followed suit. He said goodnight to his grandparents, as did Denny.

Once they were inside the café, James was happy they had come. Secretly, Harry was very proud of Café Rendezvous, and took them to a table near the window, explaining, ‘You’ll be surprised how late we stay open. People flock here after they’ve been to the theatres or the music halls. Give me a minute or two, and I’ll send over a waiter with coffee and cakes.’

James nodded, and once they were alone, Denny said, ‘When Harry talks about this place, he makes it sound like a hole in the wall. But it’s nice, ain’t it?’

‘It is, yes, and the people here look as if they’re enjoying themselves. Harry’s done a grand job, but I know deep down he wishes it were a proper restaurant.’

‘As yer grandma said, that day will come.’ Denny sat back, a reflective look crossing his face. After a moment, he said quietly, ‘Thanks for tonight, Jimmy. Yer all make me feel real welcome … it’s a change from our ’ouse … Dad’s so worried about me mum.’

‘I know.’ James reached out, touched Denny’s arm, wanting to console him. ‘It’s difficult for him, and for you, too, and Nancy. How is your sister, by the way?’

‘Doin’ awright, and she comes over when she can. She likes the woman she works for.’

At this moment, the waiter arrived with a tray, placed cups of hot coffee and plates of small cakes in front of them. ‘Selected by the boss himself,’ the young man said, gave them a bright smile and walked off.

James liked the atmosphere in the café. It was filling up with more customers, and the overall mood was friendly and certainly lively. Surrounded by the chatter, laughter, and clatter of the place, James sat back and relaxed, noticing as he did so that unexpectedly Denny appeared less tense. It struck him that Harry had been right to bring them here. It was, after all, a much safer place to be than in the bar called Tango Rose.

TWELVE

As they entered the vast, elegant entrance hall after a convivial dinner, Sebastian took hold of Lord Reginald Carpenter’s arm and turned him gently. Lord Reginald now faced the double staircase that floated up to a huge window on a landing, and Sebastian said, ‘That’s him up there. Staring down at us. I look like him, don’t you think, Reggie?’

‘You do indeed. In fact, the resemblance is quite remarkable. It might very well be a portrait of you, not of your grandfather.’

Laughter bubbled up in Sebastian’s throat and he nodded. ‘True. Except he was my great-grandfather, and I was named for him. I’ve probably inherited other characteristics from him, not only his looks.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I’ve never told you about him before, but he was killed in a duel over a woman. And I’ve been rendered brainless by a woman I spent three minutes with. Let’s face it, my old friend, that’s not exactly normal, now is it?’

Reginald half smiled and steered Sebastian towards the library, where he knew Bloom was waiting to serve them a nightcap. Walking into the room together, Reginald murmured, ‘We’ll speak about that matter when we have drinks in our hands.’

The butler hurried forward. ‘What will be your pleasure, Your Lordship?’

‘A Napoleon, please, Bloom.’

Looking at Sebastian, the butler said, ‘Will you have the same, sir?’

‘Not tonight, thank you, Bloom. I rather fancy a Bonnie Prince Charlie.’

Bloom inclined his head and went over to the drinks table to pour the cognac and the liqueur into the correct glasses. Sebastian walked over to the fireplace and Reginald followed him, a thoughtful expression lurking in his eyes.

‘It’s turned bloody cold,’ Sebastian murmured, standing with his back to the fire. ‘I can’t believe it will be August Bank Holiday this coming Monday. August, and it’s cold.’

‘Tempus fugit,’ Reginald responded.

‘Indeed. Time flies. And yet time is … endless.’ A sigh escaped him as Sebastian continued, ‘I was rather horrified a while ago, when you were speaking to Claudia. I hadn’t realized that women have been hurt, physically injured, for years by all that tight corseting.’

‘I was partially aware of it. However, I only lately realized just how bad it is, because of the problems we’re having with Jasmine. I am delighted Claudia has agreed to come to visit us on Monday afternoon. I think my daughter will listen to her, rather than to her mother. You know what young women are like.’

‘As a father I do, yes.’

The butler brought the two glasses to them on a silver tray. Reginald took the balloon of French cognac and Sebastian the small wine glass filled with Drambuie, a liqueur of Scottish heritage, supposedly a favourite of Bonnie Prince Charlie’s when he lived in Scotland as a fugitive. Hence its nickname.

The two friends touched glasses and sat down in the wing chairs facing the fireplace. The library had a mellow feeling to it on this Saturday evening. The logs burned brightly and the gas lamps added to the soft glow which pervaded the room.

It was filled with mahogany bookshelves and comfortable, rather masculine sofas and chairs. These were upholstered in varying shades of red, which repeated the reds in the Persian carpet. It was very much a room planned and designed for a man. In fact, Sebastian spent most of his spare time here, often working at the large Georgian partner’s desk near the window, or reading in front of the fire.

Both men were at ease with the long silences which often settled between them; they had been close since their early schooldays at Eton. They sipped their drinks, now caught up in their own thoughts for a while. But eventually Reginald swung his dark head and looked at Sebastian, cleared his throat, yet still remained silent.

‘So go on, old chum, tell me that you agree with me … that I have no brains.’ Reginald did not reply, and Sebastian looked over at him and added, ‘I’m bloody well daft in the head! I met a woman earlier today, was with her for only a few moments—’

‘And you can’t get her out of your head, can’t stop thinking about her, want to see her again as soon as possible. Now. Immediately. At once.’

Staring at his most trusted friend, Sebastian could only nod his head for the moment. He took a swig of the Drambuie, and finally said, ‘That’s exactly how I feel.’ He frowned. ‘How did you guess?’

Even as the words came out of his mouth, Sebastian remembered an incident which had happened to Reginald about ten years ago, and said in a low voice, ‘The Frenchwoman. That’s how you felt about her, isn’t it?’

‘Yes. Fortunately for me, and my marriage, her husband suddenly arrived from Paris and took her off to Scotland to shoot grouse. And that was the end of that. The affair that never happened.’ Reginald shook his head wonderingly. ‘But when I really do think about meeting her, and recall that incident precisely, those emotions come rushing back. But you’re not married, and neither is Miss Malvern, so you don’t have the problem I did.’

‘That’s correct. But I’ve been given to understand that she is not interested in men, and—’

‘That’s only hearsay. I’ve heard she’s not interested in marriage. But that doesn’t mean she might not want to have a “dalliance”, shall we call it?’

‘I doubt that very much, from what Claudia has said. Or do you know more about her than you’re saying?’ Sebastian raised a brow.

Reginald shook his head, grimaced. ‘I don’t know any more than you do, and I wasn’t suggesting a sexual dalliance. I meant just going to dinners and events with a man, or to the theatre; having male companionship. I wasn’t impugning the woman’s character.’

‘I know that, Reggie.’ Sebastian stared into the fire, thinking of the last ten years: the loneliness, the solitary life he had led …

Reginald leaned forward towards him and said in a low voice, ‘What you’ve been feeling tonight is not unusual – nor is it daft at all. You’re a perfectly normal, forty-year-old heterosexual man. You saw a woman you were instantly taken with, wanted, desired. All normal feelings. And I know better than anyone else how lost and lonely you’ve been these many years.’

‘So what shall I do?’

‘You’ve done it already.’

Sebastian frowned. ‘What do you mean?’

‘You’re giving a supper on Thursday of this coming week. You invited her. You invited me to come with Jane.’

‘I know that,’ Sebastian answered. ‘I mean, how do I get through the next few days?’

‘I don’t know.’

Reginald sat thinking for a moment or two, and then exclaimed, ‘Why don’t you tell Claudia to ask her for tea tomorrow? Tell Claudia you want to give Alexis a donation to her charity. I bet it would work. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, as our school master used to tell us.’

Sebastian couldn’t help laughing at his reference to their teacher, and then he said, ‘Very clever of you to think of that, Reggie. I don’t know why it didn’t occur to me.’

‘I do,’ Reginald responded swiftly, grinned at him. ‘You’ve been very busy pondering other things.’

‘You’re right, I’m afraid. My mind has been elsewhere. I shall write a cheque for her charity, and I’m happy to do so, actually. It’s a good cause.’

‘Make sure it’s a large one,’ Reginald said, and lifted the brandy balloon to his mouth. Then he grimaced and looked across at Sebastian. ‘Listen, will Claudia go along with this … plan?’

‘There’s no question in my mind about that. She has longed for me to become involved with someone, has actually encouraged me to think about getting married again. But I’m not sure about my other two girls. Claudia is very close, thinks like me and is wise beyond her years. Simply put, she wants me to be happy.’

‘And so do I, my very dearest friend. Count me in. I’ll become your other collaborator, do anything I can to help you snare this particular lady.’

Sleep eluded him.

He spent endless hours twisting and turning, and finally, in frustration, he got out of bed. Pulling on a dressing gown and putting his feet in his slippers, Sebastian left his bedroom.

It was dark as he walked along the corridor, but once he came to the landing, brilliant moonlight shone through the huge glass window at the top of the double staircase, lighting his way. And what a moon it was. A perfect silver orb. A night for lovers, he mused, as he went downstairs, across the hall and into the library where the fire still flickered in the grate.

Lovers. What a thought! He hadn’t had a lover for years. Lowering himself into a wing chair, he leaned back and closed his eyes. Margot had been his love and his lover. How he had grieved for her, missed her, his lovely wife.

There had been one entanglement, of a sexual nature, and it had lasted two years. Yet it had been on and off, in a sense, since the lady in question was married and not always in his immediate vicinity.

Had they been lovers? Not really, not in the truest sense. ‘Sexual partners’ might be a better way of describing their secret relationship. He had ended it because he had come to realize that his emotions were not involved, only a certain part of his body.

There was no cure for grief. You simply lived with it … until the years blurred the many images and remembered occasions. Memories lasted.

And the loneliness became a part of life, to be dealt with courageously, by filling one’s days with work, events, children’s needs, birthdays and Christmas, and summer holidays at the house in Kent.

He sat up straighter and opened his eyes, a smile flickering on his mouth. He would take her to Kent. She would love the house the way he did. He just knew it in his bones. Instinctively. She. Her. Alexis. A young woman he had only just met, and briefly at that, but whom he could not erase from his mind. And her image was there with him wherever he was in this house, like a ghost haunting him, tantalizing him.

Why? What was it about her? His daughter had said he had appeared to be mesmerized by Alexis. And that was true. Or perhaps blinded by the light and beauty that shone out of her was a better way of describing it. And thrilled, excited, and suddenly full of life, wanting to take her hand, run with her, be with her alone. Intimately.

Suddenly, unexpectedly, he knew what it was that she did to him. She made him feel alive for the first time in years – those years he had sleepwalked through, alone.

This knowledge sent a shiver down his spine and he knew the truth and what to do. He must follow his instincts and make her his. Permanently. This was a woman who could give him what he needed to be a whole person again. And he would give himself to her completely, in a way he never had before. He and Margot had been closely woven together, but to be honest he had always held part of himself back … kept it hidden.

He believed and with great certainty that with Alexis Malvern he could open his heart and mind, could let her become a part of him. He smiled to himself. How wonderful it felt to be … alive.