Chapter Six
‘Oh dear, what now?’ Hearing the sound of a car horn outside Thornton Hall, Selina folded the last pile of neatly laundered school uniform into Peter’s large trunk.
Beyond the window, she could see golden sunshine over the moors towards Bodmin, another lovely autumn day.
There were half a dozen miscellaneous items laid out on the bed, reading for packing, and several cases to fasten and properly label.
Yet already she could hear children shrieking and the crunch of tyres over gravel.
‘That’ll be Mr MacGregor arriving, ma’am,’ Mrs Hawley replied without looking up, busily writing a label for the trunk.
Selina pulled a face. ‘But he’s nearly an hour early. I hope he doesn’t mind waiting around. There’s still so much to pack. What about Peter’s sports gear?’
With an indulgent smile, the housekeeper attached the label to the lid of the trunk and closed it. ‘You go downstairs and meet the solicitor, ma’am. I can finish packing these cases for you.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Of course.’ The older woman bent to fasten the leather straps on the trunk. ‘It’s nearly all done, anyhow.’
‘Thank you, Mrs Hawley, you’re a dear.’
Selina hurried downstairs, though she felt guilty lumping the housekeeper with extra work.
Once they’d set off for Peter’s school in Devon, the poor woman would be forced to look after the two girls today, as well as attend to her daily duties.
She had a new helper from the village who’d just started at the hall, but Peggy was young and not fully trained up yet.
Still, it couldn’t be helped. Peter needed to go to school, and there simply wasn’t room to take the girls with them as well.
Especially given how queasy Faith was prone to become on car journeys.
William was standing outside in the sunshine, leaning on his sleek, black Wolseley Super Six.
The children were jumping around him, with Peter exclaiming animatedly over his car, with which the boy had become obsessed.
William removed his hat on seeing her at the door and came up the steps. They shook hands.
‘I know, I’m early,’ he said apologetically, perhaps seeing the frustration in her face. ‘I was visiting a client a few miles away and the meeting finished early. I hope you don’t mind.’
‘Not at all,’ Selina fibbed, crossing her fingers behind her back.
‘Peter looks smart in his new uniform.’
‘Doesn’t he just? I only hope he can keep it clean on the journey.’ She hesitated, embarrassed. ‘I’m afraid we’re not ready to leave yet. Peter’s trunk and cases need to be double-checked before they’re packed into the car. Why don’t you come inside and have a cup of tea while you wait?’
Not looking at all put out by the delay, he followed her into the house.
The dogs ran towards him, panting and wagging their tails.
William MacGregor crouched to pet them, grinning up at her.
‘I love dogs. But my mother won’t allow them in the house.
’ He gave her a crooked smile. ‘Yes, for my sins, I still live with my mother. Or, rather, she lives with me now. I insisted on it after my father’s death.
Someone has to look after her and I’m an only child. ’
‘I think it’s marvellous that she’s got such a loving son.
’ Selina tugged on the bell pull that connected to the kitchen, adding in a confidential voice, ‘Young Peggy is here today, helping out around the house. She’s very new, but I daresay her skills extend to making tea.
’ She paused, checking her watch. ‘I’m sorry, but I may have to desert you, to see how Mrs Hawley is getting on with the packing. ’
‘Not at all,’ he said politely.
But the girl arrived promptly, and Selina decided on a whim to ask for tea for two, and accompanying cake, even though it might mean delaying their departure by half an hour.
After all, it would be rude not to sit and take tea with the solicitor first, given that she’d roped the unfortunate man into driving them all the way to Devon.
The new maid, Peggy, a sixteen-year-old with fair braided hair and prominent teeth, seemed thrilled to be given the responsibility of providing a tea tray with a slice of cake each.
‘Yes, ma’am,’ Peggy lisped, darting awed glances at William MacGregor, who was looking fearfully smart in his charcoal-grey striped suit and polished shoes. ‘Right away, ma’am.’
Once Peggy had dashed away, the solicitor sat down on the sofa, crossed his legs and balanced his hat on his knee. He already knew about the new girl, of course, given he handled the finances for the estate of Selina’s late sister. But this was his first time meeting her.
‘What do you think of the new maid?’ she asked, smiling.
‘I’m glad Mrs Hawley has got herself proper help at last. I approved the extra expense gladly. She does sterling work, your housekeeper. In fact, I should probably give her a raise.’
‘Oh, please do,’ Selina agreed at once. ‘I couldn’t cope without her, and that’s the truth.’
He made some comment in response, but Selina found she had no idea what. The children had all run up to the first floor and were now whooping and galloping about upstairs, making the ceiling shake. She should really go and see what they were up to.
He grinned. ‘They sound rather excitable.’
‘Yes, it’s a big day, what with Peter leaving …’ There was a loud crash from upstairs and she fell silent, staring upwards.
‘Go on,’ he told her, leaning back against the cushions. ‘I’ll keep the tea warm until you return. And I won’t eat your slice of cake, I promise. I can see you’re eager to get upstairs and sort those rascals out.’
Laughing, Selina whisked upstairs to calm the girls down, tidy up a tumbled plant pot on the landing, and usher Peter back to his bedroom, where his trunk and bags were now packed to bursting point.
‘Golly, well done,’ she told the housekeeper, now sweating and red-faced from her exertions. ‘Thank you so much. Though Peter really ought to have been packing his own cases.’
She turned to her nephew to find he was upside down, engaged in fishing a lost tennis ball out from under his bed.
‘Peter, apologise to Mrs Hawley for dashing off earlier when you ought to have been helping.’
The boy apologised, his voice muffled.
‘And you’re not taking that ball. Or your tennis racket. Your school doesn’t play tennis in the winter terms. Mrs Hawley has packed your rugby gear instead.’
‘I hate rugby,’ Peter mumbled, turning himself upright.
‘Only because you’ve barely played it.’ She seized the tennis ball before he could stuff it into his blazer pocket. ‘Look, I expect Mr MacGregor is a rugby man. It’s a long journey into Devon. Maybe you can talk to him about it on the way?’
‘I don’t know about that, but his car is smashing,’ Peter burst out, his face lighting up. ‘Do you think he’ll let me drive it one day?’
Mrs Hawley gave a shriek. ‘You? Drive a car?’ She shook her head. ‘You’d never reach the pedals, Master Peter. Especially not in a big beast like that.’
‘I might,’ he told her, looking sullen again.
‘Peter, would you give me a hand taking these cases down to the car?’ Selina asked diplomatically, picking up a bag of plimsolls and rugby boots.
‘I expect Mrs Hawley can ask Mr Underhill to carry the trunk downstairs for us. But then you must say your goodbyes to your sisters. We’ll be leaving within the hour.
You won’t be back until Christmas, remember. ’
Dutifully, Peter took a case in each hand. But his smile had faded at this reminder, the sparkle gone from his eyes. ‘Must I go away to boarding school, Aunt Selly?’ he pleaded, not for the first time. ‘Must I really?’
Selina bit her lip, overwhelmed by guilt at his forlorn expression. She hated parting him from his family like this but was unsure what to do.
This was what Bella had wanted for her son, after all, for Peter to get a good education at a fee-paying school and then gain a place at university, just like his father Sebastian.
She was only following her late sister’s instructions in sending him away.
But it broke her heart to hear that despairing note in his voice.
‘Oh, Peter,’ she groaned. ‘I know you’re going to miss everyone madly. But you’ll make so many new friends at school. You’ll have forgotten all about us by this time next week, I promise.’
Deep down, however, Selina suspected the poor boy would be homesick for a good while longer than that.
Peter was a sensitive soul, and she was fiercely glad that he’d been just a child during the war and couldn’t be drafted to fight.
Being forced to kill or be killed, and to witness the atrocities of war, would have destroyed the sweet, loving child she sensed behind her nephew’s boyish bravado.
Boarding school, however, was a rite of passage for young men of his class, and one she could not in all conscience deny him. Not when her late sister had so particularly stressed her wishes for Peter’s future.
There was much sobbing and hugging when the time came for the siblings to part.
Jemima’s lip trembled, and a tear rolled down her cheek as she embraced her older brother on the steps to Thornton Hall.
‘Have a good time at school,’ she told him, her voice shaking.
‘You … You must write to us. If you don’t, I’ll be ever so cross. And we shall write too, every day.’
‘You’ll make me look ridiculous if you do that,’ Peter muttered, but hugged her back. ‘One letter a week is enough.’ He bent to kiss his baby sister on the cheek. ‘Jemmy will look after you while I’m gone, Faith. Be a good girl, won’t you?’
Faith clung to him, sobbing her heart out, wordless.
Pulling on her gloves, Selina stood watching this touching farewell with an unhappy heart. She wished again that it wasn’t necessary. But what could she do?