The Letter, page 18
‘I don’t know if she’s upset about the Hailshams, Dad, and I don’t know what she thinks about the fire,’ said Bella tiredly. ‘I hope she’s upset, as any right-thinking person would be, but she has a strange way of showing it, if so. But I agree that she’s not got enough to occupy her, and there’s a danger of her wasting this precious time while she’s so young by misbehaving and getting into the wrong company. Slow William, I ask you! As for the job at the inn – well, she’s wayward, and she won’t do it if she doesn’t want to. But yes, why not ask Mr Fairbanks?’ She stood up and straightened her back, pulling herself together. ‘Perhaps she’ll love it, working there …’
‘Oh, love, I doubt I’d go that far.’
‘… And mebbe the discipline of a regular job is exactly what Millie needs.’
The following day, Bella felt drained, and her eyes were still prickly from the smoke from the fire. The talk at the toyshop was all about that. The Warminsters had heard about it, of course, and were stricken to think an acquaintance of Bella’s had suffered such a misfortune.
‘Oh, Bella, love … here, have another custard cream,’ said Cassie, passing her an opened packet. It was all she could think of to offer immediate comfort – that and extra sugar in Bella’s tea. ‘What you need is summat to take your mind off yesterday. Now, I’d give you the morning off, but I don’t want you wasting time wandering about aimlessly because you’re in a tizz about Mrs Hailsham, so I’d like you to get on with those babies’ rompers and see how many of those dolls you can dress by the end of the morning.’
Bella appreciated Mrs Warminster’s good sense – and her business sense – and she set to work at the cutting table and the sewing machine, managing to make clothes for several of the naked baby dolls that were bought in and then enhanced with the cute and pretty outfits for which the Warminster dolls were well known, as well as serving in the shop and selling a whole box of tin soldiers, a child-size badminton set and three board games.
By midday, Bella was feeling more cheerful.
The shop closed at lunchtime. Sometimes she liked to meet Sidney then, but lately he’d been busy, he said, and so she stayed in and ate her sandwich in the workroom. While she was eating, Bella pulled a magazine out of her bag and opened it at a page she’d marked.
‘What do you think of these flowers?’ she asked her employers, who also sat in the workroom to eat their lunch.
‘For your wedding bouquet?’ asked Cassie.
‘Yes, of course,’ smiled Bella. ‘I don’t often buy flowers, I’m afraid.’
‘Well, I can see they’re very dainty,’ said Alfred. ‘But have you thought if these will be available in September?’
‘No,’ said Bella. ‘Oh dear, you’re right, of course. These lilies-of-the-valley are spring flowers.’ She put the magazine away with a sigh. ‘I can’t afford hothouse or special out-of-season flowers.’
‘Well, that needn’t be a problem,’ said Cassie. ‘Choose summat that’s in season in September and go and see Iris Cook. You know she does the flowers in church, don’t you?’
‘I’d forgotten that. I’m not much of a one for church on a weekly basis.’
‘Ask Iris if she’ll help you with the bouquets – I’m sure she’ll agree to. And didn’t you tell me that your father grows flowers?’
‘He does. The front garden is beginning to look lovely, and he’s got a patch at the back for flowers for the house. Mam loved to have flowers indoors; he started growing them for her and has just carried on in her memory.’
‘There you are, then,’ said Cassie. ‘Pretty English garden flowers. In September, there’ll be roses and asters and mebbe some delphiniums in season. Ask your dad and I reckon he’ll be pleased to make sure there’s summat lovely for you and your bridesmaid. They won’t cost you owt, and with a bit of arranging by Iris, they’ll look better than any bought from the shops.’
‘Mrs Warminster, you are clever,’ said Bella.
‘Oh, you’d have thought of it yourself in time,’ said Cassie. ‘And have you persuaded Alice into a pretty bridesmaid frock yet?’
‘No, I think summat plain and elegant might suit her better. Alice doesn’t really go in for “pretty”.’
‘With your skills, I’m sure you can make a beautiful dress for her that you’ll both be pleased with. But you’ll need to be starting now, if you haven’t already. And what about your cousin, Millie? Is she also to be a bridesmaid?’
It was then that Bella realised she hadn’t even thought of a role for Millie in her wedding. It wasn’t a deliberate omission, just an oversight. She tried to imagine Millie in a dress that would match the kind that Alice might wear – and failed. Then she tried to think of her in something younger and prettier in style – and failed there, too. After their disagreement yesterday, and the horrible suspicion Bella had had about the fire, which she was still trying to forget, she didn’t know what to think about Millie. All she knew was that her young cousin, far from being one of the Marchant family now, as her father thought, was largely unknown to them. First the smashed windows at Mrs Hailsham’s beach hut and then the house fire – Bella felt almost ashamed thinking either incident had anything to do with Millie, but she just could not entirely lay to rest her last tiny nagging suspicions. It was, to Bella’s mind, as if she was acknowledging that Millie could deliberately step out of their embrace and away into dark and murky shadows. How could she ask someone she really didn’t know or understand to be her bridesmaid?
‘Bella?’ It was Cassie, prompting her for an answer.
‘I’ll see,’ said Bella. It was the most truthful answer she felt she could give.
Bella was so busy with the after-school mayhem at the toyshop – bold little boys grabbing marbles and pop-guns, and shy little girls wanting cut-out books of paper dolls – that she managed to avoid any unwelcome thoughts distracting her.
‘Off you go early, Bella, and don’t forget to ask your father and Iris Cook about the wedding flowers,’ said Cassie, as Bella tidied up after the rush of children had subsided at about four o’clock. ‘It will be summat sorted out, and then you can tick it off your list, and that will cheer you up. If you’ve an hour or two spare, you might want to think about making a start fitting those pattern pieces for your dress, too. You haven’t got bags of time. If Alice isn’t any help, bring the pattern here and I’ll give you a hand, if you like? I promise your dress will remain a secret.’
‘Thank you,’ said Bella. ‘You are so kind, Mrs Warminster.’
‘Nonsense. I shall never be a mother-of-the-bride, not having a daughter of my own, so I hope you don’t mind if I take an interest in your wedding preparations, love. It’ll be a pleasure for me to help if I can.’
‘You’ve been helpful already.’ Bella smiled.
She and Cassie looked round as the shop bell rang again.
Standing on the threshold was a tall, thin young man with neat dark hair and little round glasses. He had tiny upward creases at the corners of his eyes, suggesting he often smiled, as he was doing now. It took Bella a moment to recognise who it was.
‘Toby!’ Cassie swooped to hug her boy, and Alfred, hearing their son’s name, came through from the back room to shake his hand.
‘We weren’t expecting you until tomorrow.’
‘Finished everything early – with the incentive of seeing my olds to spur me on – and got the first train I could. How are you both?’
‘Fine, thank you, love,’ Cassie answered for them. ‘Now, do you remember Bella Marchant, our employee and treasure? I’m sure you two have met before.’
‘Of course,’ said Toby with a wider smile. ‘Bella, it’s a long while since I saw you – just bad luck that I’ve missed you more recently, p’raps – but I’m pleased to see you looking so well today.’ He gazed at her with open admiration.
Bella felt shy for a moment as she offered her hand. ‘How lovely to see you again, Toby. How are you?’
‘Oh, very well, thank you. All the better for getting back to Theddleton. For all that my folks are incomers from Scarborough way, Theddleton feels like home. It certainly beats London and its filthy air, hands down.’
Bella was pleased to hear this, being a Theddleton girl, born and bred.
‘Incomers?’ laughed Alfred. ‘Why, we’ve lived here for years.’
‘About six,’ said Toby. ‘So only another fifty to go before you’re classed as locals. Unfortunately, I never will be, living and working in the Smoke.’
‘Remind me what it is you do,’ Bella said. ‘I’m sure I’ve been told and ought to know.’
‘I’m a tailor. It’s not just women who can sew, is it, Mam?’
‘Our Toby’s far more talented than I am,’ said his proud mother. ‘Suits for toffs, fancy waistcoats – the lot.’
‘Not talent, Mam, just training. But it was you who started me off with the sewing, don’t forget.’
‘Well, I hope you enjoy your stay,’ said Bella. ‘I’m off now, but I hope I’ll see you tomorrow.’
‘So do I,’ said Toby. ‘Have a nice evening.’
She went to the workroom door to put on her coat and take up her bag.
As she turned to leave, she gave a little wave goodbye at the door, but the Warminster parents were fussing round their son like nesting birds with one chick, and they didn’t notice her.
For a moment, Bella felt strangely excluded. How silly, when she had her father and Alice, who loved her every bit as much as Cassie and Alfred Warminster loved Toby.
But then, she thought, as she let herself out into the High Street, what of Millie? How did they fit together? They had struck up an immediate affection, but now Bella felt it was being undermined by … what, exactly? Mistrust? Millie’s wayward disregard for other people? The dynamic at home had shifted since Millie’s arrival. Bella allowed herself the indulgence of thinking, for the briefest of moments, that it had been better before Millie came. Then she mentally slapped herself. Millie had no one; Bella had her family and friends, and she had Sidney.
Chastising herself for her mean thought, Bella decided to go to have another, proper look at the beach hut and see if anyone was around who might want theirs repainted for the coming summer.
She set off towards the beach, passing the bookshop. There was no sign of Alice when she glanced through the door – or anyone else – and no sign of Bobbie Reeves’s father’s monumental car parked outside. Bella hoped Bobbie wouldn’t forget what she had said about supporting Alice over changing the dismal window. Bobbie didn’t seem like the kind of person who would offer to do something and then forget or not bother, and she and Alice clearly liked each other.
At the hotel, instead of crossing the road straight away, Bella continued along by the front of the grand building. Looking up between the pillars into the foyer, she saw people milling around, possibly waiting to be shown into the dining room for afternoon tea. The dining-room windows, very tall, with swags of crimson velvet around them, looked out onto the Promenade from behind some railings and tubs of manicured little trees. It did look rather formal, not very relaxed, with tablecloths so stiff they stuck out around the table legs, and lots of crimson and gold-edged crockery. And … good heavens! Wasn’t that Sidney?
Bella screwed up her eyes and peered up into the window. Yes, it was Sidney, without any doubt, looking dapper and wearing that very striking tie he’d first worn to the fundraising do. He clearly had expected to be visiting the Imperial Hotel today and not just going to his desk at the town hall, yet he’d been too busy to meet her at lunchtime. And who was he with? By now, Bella was unconsciously making a spectacle of herself on the pavement, craning her neck, pulling herself up on the railings to see who was partially hidden by the fall of the curtain.
Sidney must have noticed the movement down in the street, outside the window where he was sitting, because he looked round and – for one very brief moment – the expression on his face was almost a caricature of guilt, like a cartoon with the caption Caught Out.
Then Muriel Chalfont leaned across towards him, putting her hand on his arm, and she, too, turned to look outside. The expression on her face was, just for a second or two, unguarded triumph. Words were exchanged, and then Sidney made a rather awkward beckoning gesture to Bella to join them.
Bella realised she’d been almost climbing the railings, her mouth open, and she hurriedly tried to regain her dignity, straightening the sleeves of her coat while thinking what on earth to do. She didn’t really want to have tea with them in the stuffy hotel, but she was very interested to know why Sidney and Muriel Chalfont were sitting there together on a Friday afternoon.
The doorman opened the door for her without much of a flourish, and Bella set off across the foyer to the dining room like a woman on a mission.
‘May I help you, madam?’ asked the head waiter, guarding the dining room.
‘I am joining Miss Chalfont and Mr Bennett for tea,’ said Bella. ‘They are expecting me.’
She was shown to their table, another chair was brought, and Sidney at least had the manners to stand up and greet her with a kiss on the cheek.
‘Oh, Bella, we thought it was you,’ said Muriel. ‘I was just saying to Sidney, wouldn’t it be funny if Bella came by and saw us having tea together?’
‘And I said I expected you were at the toyshop.’
‘But, what a surprise, there you were, craning your neck like you’ve never seen owt as smart as the hotel dining room. And we couldn’t let you think we were having an assignation of some illegal kind,’ said Muriel, trilling a merry laugh.
‘Illicit,’ said Bella.
‘What?’
‘An illicit assignation.’
‘Not one of them either,’ said Sidney.
‘Do sit down, Bella, and have a cup of tea,’ said Muriel. She waved her hand imperiously, and a waiter came over with a place setting for Bella. Another waiter followed with a fresh pot of tea.
‘Well, this is nice,’ said Sidney awkwardly, rubbing his hands together nervously. Whatever he and Muriel had been talking about before Bella arrived, they weren’t going back to the subject now.
‘I’m glad to see you are all right, Muriel, after the terrible fire yesterday,’ said Bella politely. ‘I hope there was no damage to your parents’ house.’
‘Not to ours, thank goodness. Sidney very kindly came round here when he heard about the fire and our having to evacuate our home, to see if I was all right.’
‘Yes,’ said Sidney. ‘Everyone was worried about you … and your parents, of course.’
That at least explained what Sidney was doing here, although why his enquiry about the Chalfonts should involve having afternoon tea, Bella didn’t know. It was kind of Sidney to come and see that they were all right, yet Bella couldn’t forget the look on his face when he’d seen her through the window. Probably he just thought she might misinterpret his being here, which was exactly what she was doing, of course.
‘But what of the Hailshams?’ asked Bella. ‘I haven’t heard owt since I saw their house was burning down.’
‘You saw it?’ asked Sidney.
‘Yes, Alice and I were on the beach when we saw the smoke, and we went to see if there was owt we could do, but the fire brigade were just arriving, and the fire was massive already.’
‘Well, I’m afraid the Hailshams are both dead,’ announced Muriel boldly, her voice betraying her pride in being the one with the prime information.
‘Oh, no!’ gasped Bella. ‘I did fear that – the fire was so fierce – but I just hoped … Oh, what a terrible thing to happen. I am sorry.’ She felt tears prick her eyes. Rosemary Hailsham had been little more than an acquaintance in the neighbouring beach hut, and Bella knew Marjory only by sight and reputation, but it was tragic that they had both died before their time, and in such a horrible way.
Muriel shrugged and leaned in, pouring tea into Bella’s cup, then adding too much milk without asking her. ‘Bit too fond of the drink, Rosemary Hailsham,’ she said, her eyes sparkling with relish at the gossip. ‘It wouldn’t surprise me if there hadn’t been a little carelessness and that caused the fire.’
Bella was about to shut off this line of conversation when Muriel added, ‘Very sad for them, of course, but lucky for us. Dad’s thinking of buying up their plot of land, knocking down the ruined house and building summat even bigger. Folk pay a lot for nice houses like ours, overlooking the sea, or it could be a business opportunity.’
Bella could not believe what she was hearing. Had the woman no shame, no respect? She turned to see how Sidney was taking these words in such outrageously poor taste, but he was still looking strangely nervous. Surely he had heard what Muriel just said? How could he possibly condone her selfishness, her lack of shame?
‘Well, at least Rosemary and Marjory Hailshams’ deaths have some advantage to you,’ said Bella, getting up. ‘So the whole sorry episode is not entirely tragic. I won’t stop for tea, thank you. Mebbe I’ll see you tomorrow, Sidney.’
She got up and left quickly, hoping no one there actually mistook her for a friend of the ghastly Muriel Chalfont. She felt tainted to be in this hotel, owned by a man who had already speculated about how he might profit from such a tragedy. And she was surprised that Sidney obviously didn’t feel the same.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
WHEN BELLA GOT home that afternoon, she felt more desolate about the fire than ever. It had been a mistake to go to look at the beach hut again so soon. The air at that end of Theddleton was still heavy with the smell of smoke, and there was hardly anyone on the beach or walking along the Promenade, as if the townspeople had an unspoken agreement to stay away as a mark of respect for the Hailshams. There was no one to show off the newly painted stripes to, no one to whom she could recommend Millie’s skills. It didn’t matter: in the circumstances, the subject of painted beach huts was too frivolous to mention anyway.
Bella broke the sad news of the deaths of Rosemary and Marjory Hailsham to her father, who was back from the Three-Mile and pottering around in the garden. Thomas took off his cap and bowed his head. When he looked up, his face was etched with sadness.
