The Boat House Page 16

  She shared a breakfast table with Miss Allen and a woman by the name of Frederika who presumably had a surname but never used it.

  After a few mouthfuls of stewed prunes Ivy said, ‘Four million rivets! Imagine that! The Mauretania, I mean. That’s how many rivets they needed for the hull.’

  Miss Allen said, ‘That’s wonderful! Four million! It’s wonderful, isn’t it, Frederika?’

  ‘Is it? I’m not an expert on express liners.’

  Ivy scraped up the last spoonful of prunes. ‘The interior is frankly luxurious, Richard tells me – plenty of mahogany panelling and tall pillars. And electric elevators – or lifts as you would call them over here.’

  Frederika said, ‘This Richard is your nephew, I take it.’

  Ivy hid her irritation. They all knew that Richard had been one of her young charges when she was a nanny. Frederika was simply being awkward. She forced a light laugh. ‘Not a nephew, Frederika. You are becoming a bit forgetful. It happens to us all, dear, in time. No, I was his nanny many years ago. He positively adores me, bless the boy. Not that he’s a boy now. Twenty-three, I think, or it might be twenty-four. Time passes so quickly.’

  Nesta arrived with a rack of toast and took away the dishes. She smiled warmly at Ivy who had let it be known, albeit discreetly, that the Prestons had made a generous donation to the Sutton Ladies Charity.

  ‘Richard and I will each have a cabin and the twins will share. The cabins are superb. We shall each have a telephone and a private bathroom . . . There is so much to do – a reading room, walking on the promenade deck and even deck tennis!’ Ivy laughed delightedly.

  Frederika said, ‘You won’t be playing tennis, surely! Not at your age.’

  Ivy concentrated on buttering her toast and bit back the sharp reply that sprang to her lips. Of course she understood that she was now envied by the other residents and that aroused jealousy. She pitied them. Each one of them would give an eyetooth to be in her shoes. She said sweetly, ‘I certainly will not – much too strenuous – but I daresay Richard will play. A wealthy, good-looking young man can always find a partner for deck tennis.’

  ‘Anyway, you’ll be busy looking after the twins,’ Miss Allen reminded her. ‘I’m crocheting collars for you to give to the girls. One for each of them.’

  Frederika smirked at this unlikely prospect but Ivy said, ‘Miss Allen, that is so kind!’ and laid a hand on Miss Allen’s skinny arm in a gesture of gratitude. ‘And the girls will never be bored on-board ship. There is a children’s playroom with a huge mural of the five and twenty blackbirds escaping from the pie – and it will be well supervised!’

  Frederika said, ‘And the Mauretania holds the Blue Riband for speed across the Atlantic.’

  Ivy stared at her. ‘She does, yes. Fancy you knowing that!’

  ‘You told us yesterday.’

  Ivy detected a note of bitterness and counted to ten. She smiled at Miss Allen and said, ‘Would you pass the marmalade, please? I feel the need for something sweet.’

  ELEVEN

  Donald looked up as his cousin came into the office looking somewhat harassed. ‘Tough assignment?’ He grinned.

  ‘Most certainly!’ Judith flopped down on top of several files that had been left on a chair. ‘Poor Mrs Montini. She was rather tearful and dithered a lot and the man became a bit impatient with her.’

  ‘But that’s to be expected, isn’t? I mean, being tearful. Choosing a headstone for one’s beloved. Rather an emotional time.’

  ‘Of course it is. Not to mention the wording to be engraved on it. The poor soul had nothing prepared and then at first couldn’t remember if his name was Carlo Eduardo or Eduardo Carlo and couldn’t recall his exact date of birth or . . .’

  ‘So what was the final wording?’

  ‘“Dearly Beloved” followed by “Rest In Peace” followed by the name and date, etc. Nothing dramatic or romantic but . . .’ She stopped abruptly. ‘You’re looking very depressed. Was it very awful this morning?’

  ‘Very. Ackrow was in a foul mood because we found nothing yesterday and wasted money and time and his superiors have been leaning on him. He’s been told to drop the case – not that he ever really took it on, but . . . He was so keen to lay it to rest and now we’ve got nothing we didn’t have before and he’s in the dog house.’ He shrugged. ‘In fact we have less than before because we haven’t got him or his resources. Reading between the lines I think he blames me.’

  Judith sighed. ‘It was worth a try.’

  ‘I could kill for a pot of tea.’

  ‘Then why don’t you make one?’

  ‘You usually do it!’

  ‘But I’m not your . . .’

  ‘Secretary! I know. You’re my business partner.’

  He looked so crestfallen that Judith abandoned her protest, put the kettle on and opened the milk. She called from the little kitchen, ‘Is there anything more to be learned from the nanny? She was there at the time.’ She set out the tray and three minutes later carried it in and set it down on the desk.

  He said, ‘You be mother!’

  ‘You’ll wear that joke out!’

  ‘The nanny? I doubt it. Richard had a long session with her. We got the tip-off about the rockery and the roses, which led nowhere, but nothing else.’ He frowned. ‘Maybe Richard asked the wrong questions.’

  ‘Maybe Ivy knows nothing. Or it was too painful and she doesn’t want to remember what happened and has blocked it out of her mind.’

  He looked startled. ‘You’re not suggesting that we hypnotize her!’

  It was Judith’s turn to look startled. ‘Hypnotize her? Good Lord, no! I think that would be dangerous – especially at her age.’ She frowned. ‘I keep thinking we could make better use of Marianne but I can’t think how. I mean, she is on the spot. And there’s the boat house. If only she could get in there and look around.’

  ‘For what?’

  ‘I don’t know. A clue. Another lead. Anything!’

  He hesitated. ‘I’m beginning to worry about Marianne. We’ve put her in an unpleasant position – acting for Preston against her employer. It can’t be very comfortable for her. If that dig had run into difficulties and Mrs Matlowe had found out . . .’

  Judith nodded. ‘Marianne gave us so much information about the family arrangements. I think you may be right and she did overstep the mark – but only because she wanted to be helpful. If we persuade her to snoop around in the boat house and it gets back to Mrs Matlowe . . .’

  ‘The fat will be in the fire with a vengeance. She might be sacked – and we won’t be judged innocent either.’

  Judith looked at him. ‘We might all be charged with conspiracy to . . . to dig up the rose bed!’ She glanced at him helplessly. ‘That sounds ridiculous but I’m sure they could come up with something to charge us with. It was very irregular, to say the least. Could you lose your licence, do you think?’

  ‘I honestly don’t know. We could argue that the police encouraged us in the idea but that doesn’t mean we’re guiltless.’

  ‘If only we’d found her. Then it would have been congratulations all round.’

  They fell into a gloomy silence, which was eventually broken by Donald.

  ‘There’s the sister, Ida!’ he cried. ‘We’ve forgotten her. I wonder how much she knows about what happened – in the past, I mean.’

  ‘The trouble is if we ask her anything she’ll tell her sister.’ Judith shook her head. ‘She’s bound to. Blood’s thicker than water and all that . . . Who else is there to ask? The cook and the maid weren’t there until after Leonora’s departure; Marianne’s too recent, which only leaves Mr Blunt, the gardener . . .’

  ‘And we don’t want to alert him!’

  ‘Are we missing something, Donald?’

  He made no answer straight away. After a long pause he said slowly, ‘I’m wondering if I should talk to Richard and point out that we are going nowhere and ask if he wants to call it a day. He could take the twins an
d the nanny and hot foot it back to America.’

  ‘You think Mrs Matlowe will allow the children to go with him? I think she’ll fight him all the way.’

  ‘Through the courts, you mean?’

  ‘Any way she can. If he just takes them . . . That would be kidnapping, wouldn’t it? She could have him arrested.’

  They regarded each other soberly.

  Judith said, ‘I’m trying to find a happy ending.’

  ‘I’m beginning to think there won’t be one!’

  Thursday 13th June, 1912. My dear Ida, if you are reading this it is because I am dead and am relying on you to explain everything to everyone. Not a nice task and I hate to ask you but I seem to be surrounded by enemies and do not know where else I can turn . . .

  Georgina laid down the pen and reread her words. Hardly elegant but it was not a novel and all she needed to impart were certain truths and her own deep regret at what had happened all those years ago.

  You will never know how many times I almost confessed to you but that would have placed you in a terrible position and I could not do that to you. We may not always have seen eye to eye but on the whole I think we love each other and I had no wish to inflict on you the hell I have suffered since that terrible day . . .

  Poor Ida. She would have no idea what to expect when she opened the letter. Shock, certainly, followed by revulsion and shame. And then maybe a small amount of compassion for the long, lonely years her sister had endured, unable to share her secret.

  It started when I received Neil’s letter telling me he had married! Can you imagine how I felt? My own son, married to a woman I had never met. Someone he had scarcely mentioned in his letters home. He described it as a whirlwind romance! To be frank, it felt like a slap in the face! I was totally crushed. Then I began to wonder if he would ever come back to England or would stay in America, as he seemed infatuated with the entire family. It took me days to come to terms with the whole situation but then I told you about the wedding. I needed you to understand what I was going through and sympathize but you were relentlessly cheerful and scornful of my tears. I forgave you but since then I have refrained from confiding in you. You have had no children and I cannot expect you to understand . . .

  There were footsteps on the stairs but Georgina knew that she had locked the study door and no one would be able to disturb her. When the letter was finished she would go up to Neil’s room and read it through to him. She knew that when it was written she could lock it away until the time came for it to be found. It would be quite safe.

  She sat back, frowning. But suppose it was not found for months or years after her death. It should be discovered at once, but how was that to be arranged? Unless she gave it to her solicitor with instructions for it to be sent to Ida immediately. Yes! That was the answer. She smiled, encouraged by the way she was dealing with the matter.

  ‘No hysterics, Georgina,’ she said softly. ‘You are stronger than you think.’ But then she did have to consider her heart and Mr Prendergast had warned her against becoming upset or overemotional.

  Dear Ida, please do not think for one moment that I blame you for anything. What I did rests entirely on my own shoulders and I take responsibility for it . . .

  ‘Now where was I?’ She reread the last three lines and thought carefully before she continued.

  When they came to England I promised myself that I would show Leonora every kindness. I had no intention of allowing either of them to know how I felt about being a thousand miles away when they stood together at the altar, making their vows. But my heart was breaking and it has never mended. Poor Neil. He was infatuated with his bride and spared very little thought for me. Leonora was charming and pretty and very wilful. She liked to get her own way and Neil always sided with her and she knew it and knew that I knew it! It was humiliating, Ida. I wanted to share their happiness but it was impossible . . .

  Downstairs the telephone rang followed by footsteps on the stairs and a knock on the door.

  ‘Madam . . .’ It was Lorna. ‘It’s Mr Preston on the telephone and he wants to come round and talk to you – if you could spare a few moments.’

  ‘Tell him I’m busy. He could try tomorrow morning between ten and twelve.’ Her heartbeat sounded louder than usual.

  ‘He says it’s important.’

  ‘So is what I’m doing!’ she snapped. Drat him!

  ‘So what shall I tell him?’

  ‘I’ve just told you what to say. Tomorrow between ten and twelve. Now please don’t interrupt me again.’

  After a small pause she heard the girl’s footsteps retreating and smiled with satisfaction. ‘That put you in your place, Mr Preston!’ she muttered.

  She tried once more to concentrate on the letter. She wanted to tell Ida that Leonora, in the bloom of youth and bursting with joy, made her feel old, ugly and unwanted. She was sure that Neil had seen her in a different light after he came back because he saw her through Leonora’s eyes.

  Finally I had an argument with Neil followed by another one with Leonora and the atmosphere became . . .

  Lorna was back. ‘He says he must talk to you today because tomorrow he is going to take Nanny shopping and . . .’

  ‘Damn him and damn Nanny!’ Georgina at once glanced heavenward and said, ‘Sorry!’ She flung down the pen and saw ink splatter across the page. With a groan of frustration she saw that the letter so far would have to be rewritten. Her heart was racing now and she tried to take deep breaths to calm herself. She thought resentfully of Mr Prendergast and his well-meant advice. How was she supposed to stay calm in her present situation? She felt a wave of faintness and was glad that she was sitting down. Leaning her elbows on the table she pressed her hands against her face and counted slowly to ten. Don’t let them win, she told herself. Hold on to your self-control.

  ‘Madam? Are you all right?’ The door handle was rattled. ‘Mrs Matlowe?’

  ‘Of course I’m not all right but I shan’t let you know that!’ she whispered. Without a word she blotted the letter and slid it into the top drawer, locked it and pocketed the key. ‘I’m coming!’ she called and made her way to the door.

  A few moments later Richard replaced the phone and looked at Donald. ‘That was fairly painful!’ he said. ‘I am definitely not in her favour today. Not that I ever was.’

  ‘But is she going to speak with you?’

  ‘She agreed grudgingly to see me at four the day after tomorrow. She sounded wary.’

  ‘As well she might!’ said Judith. ‘And you said nothing about the reason for the meeting.’

  ‘I didn’t want to give her time to start consulting solicitors. I’m resigned to the fact that she will refuse to let them visit my parents and will certainly try to prevent any attempt to keep them in America. She even refuses to allow the twins to visit Nan on the grounds that they don’t remember her. I pointed out that Nan remembers them and she’s longing to see them again.’ He shook his head. ‘She sure is one stubborn old biddy!’

  Judith turned to Donald. ‘But Richard is their uncle and his parents are the twins’ grandparents. Can she stop Richard from taking the children to America for a visit?’

  ‘But their father was English so he would have been the legal guardian, so to speak. Which makes Mrs Matlowe, as next of kin, the new legal guardian. That might give her a prior right to bring them up.’

  Donald pursed his lips. ‘Perhaps you should find yourself an English solicitor, Richard, who understands our legal system and ask him to talk to your family solicitor in America. Let them fight it out.’

  Richard sighed. ‘I wish we didn’t have to fight over the girls. I admit I don’t like Mrs Matlowe – I can’t get over the way she behaved to my sister – but I do see her point of view. The twins are all she has. She may also feel she has a duty to her son to bring the girls up.’

  Judith said, ‘I’m sure Neil would prefer them to be brought up in America. He must realize how narrow-minded his mother is. Their upbringing
is very restrictive.’

  ‘But Neil’s dead and we shall never know.’ Richard rubbed his eyes tiredly. ‘If only she would be more accommodating we could arrange part-time custody. Term time in Nebraska and holidays in England, perhaps, but I’m sure she would never agree. She wouldn’t trust us.’

  ‘Or the other way round.’ Judith was interrupted by the telephone and the two men remained silent as she dealt with a new client. ‘Certainly, Mr Warner. Mr Watson is with another client at the moment but is free tomorrow at nine thirty. Would that time suit? . . . Yes, I’ll take your telephone number and he will ring you back within the hour for a few initial details . . .’ She wrote down a telephone number, nodding as she did so. ‘Right then. We’ll see you tomorrow – and try not to worry. I’m sure we can be of help. Goodbye.’

  Donald looked at her expectantly and she said, ‘Trouble over a will.’

  ‘As ever!’

  Judith said, ‘As I was saying about the joint custody idea – either way the girls would have a wonderful life. Most children would jump at the chance if they understood all that is entailed.’

  Richard said, ‘So it’s shopping with Nan tomorrow and I go into battle at four on the fifteenth. Here’s hoping!’

  Judith held up both hands. She had crossed fingers on each one.

  True to his promise, on the following day, Richard found himself comfortably seated in the ladies’ dress department at Harvey Nichols, keeping an anxious eye on Ivy Busby who sat erect on the chair next to him while a solicitous assistant, by the name of Miss Andersby, discussed her needs.

  ‘A trip to America!’ she said. ‘Oh! How I envy you, Miss Busby. And on the Mauretania!’

  Ivy nodded. ‘The weather may be a trifle cool . . .’ she began.

  Miss Andersby clapped her hands. ‘So you will need something comfortably warm. Something to keep you snug on a chilly day. I believe the ships sail at some speed so there may be a draught. Let me think.’ She was a small woman, probably in her late twenties, with softly waved mouse-brown hair and brown eyes, the latter magnified by spectacles. ‘What about a lightweight wool? We have a charming skirt and jacket which would suit you perfectly.’ She peered at Ivy’s eyes. ‘Hazel eyes – a very good match would be the soft green, although the lavender would also look well on you.’