Chapter 31 #2
She thought how much younger Daisy looked out of her usual drab pinafore, the cream silk reflecting onto her skin.
Daisy always seemed happy with her lot, quite content to be cooking away, looking after everyone.
But she deserved a second chance at happiness.
She wouldn’t find that stuck in the kitchen.
Diana was staring at herself in the mirror. She was swathed in white velvet with long sleeves, trimmed with swansdown. She looked puzzled, as if she didn’t recognise herself. Elizabeth pulled her daughter’s hair out of its usual ponytail and fluffed it up.
‘Look at you,’ said her mother. ‘You look marvellous.’
‘I can’t remember the last time I wore a long dress,’ said Diana. She seemed a bit emotional, as if it was a revelation that she could put one on and the world wouldn’t come to an end.
Stella found a white devoré dress with a halter neck, cut daringly low at the back. Because she was so tall and slim, it looked breathtakingly elegant. She imagined a warm hand on her bare skin guiding her to the dance floor. She shook herself out of it. Now was not the time to look backwards.
The dresses were put to one side, ready for Stella to do the final alterations.
Here we all are, she thought, five women brought together under the same roof at Foxwood, all touched by war, as everyone had been, determined not to be bowed, determined to make the Snow Ball a night to remember.
It was nearly one o’clock when Stella went off to find Ted and get him to wash his hands for lunch.
She couldn’t find him anywhere, or Paddy.
The puppy had barely left his side since he’d been old enough to leave his mum, and Ted spent hours trying to train him – ‘Sit!’, ‘Lie down!’, ‘Heel!’ – with a trail of snipped-up cold sausage he’d begged from Daisy.
Ted was extremely patient, and Paddy extremely eager to please, so it was a match made in heaven.
She looked in the stable yard, and all around the garden, but they were nowhere to be seen. She ran upstairs to his room, but apart from being awfully messy – how could he have made such a mess already? – there was no sign of him.
She had run out of ideas as to where he might be.
Could he have gone over to the factory to find Michael?
It was only half a mile away, and already he worshipped his grandfather.
But she could hear Michael’s voice in the hall downstairs, and presumably he’d have brought Ted back with him if he’d ventured that far.
Stella hadn’t worried about him roaming around, for she firmly believed in a long rein and Elizabeth had reassured her that Edwin and Diana and Alfie had wandered for miles and never come to any harm.
But Ted was on his own and hadn’t been brought up here, so should she have laid down some stricter rules?
He wasn’t a reckless child. Inquisitive, perhaps, but not foolhardy.
No one had seen him since breakfast.
Half an hour later, he still hadn’t turned up and Stella felt panic start to rise in her chest, a cold, hard lump that was stopping her breathing.
He must be hungry by now, and he knew they were strict about mealtimes at Foxwood.
What if he’d jumped off a gate and broken his leg and was lying somewhere?
Or been hit by a car? There wasn’t much traffic around the lanes, but people did drive fast if they happened to be passing.
After an hour, Michael phoned the factory and sent out a search party to comb the fields between the factory and Foxwood.
Alfie and Rory got in the car and drove to Breverton – maybe he’d got it into his head to go and visit a friend?
There was no football today because the ground was frozen hard, but perhaps he’d fancied a kickabout.
Stella stood at the gates to Foxwood, looking up and down the road.
It was cold and silent, the sky glowering above, the trees bare.
There were no clues – no trail of footprints or pawprints.
She tried to listen to her gut, her motherly instinct, but nothing told her where he might be, whether he might have gone right or left.
All she knew was he wouldn’t have disappeared like this on purpose.
He wasn’t a thoughtless child, and he wouldn’t willingly cause her distress.
As the hands of her watch swept round, she felt a wave of despair.
Michael strode out to find her and bring her back inside, but she collapsed against him, sobbing.
‘I can’t bear this. I just can’t.’ She could take losing Edwin. She could take losing the boat. But not Ted. Michael took her arm and walked her back to the house. He was white with worry himself.
‘I’m telephoning the police,’ he told her, and she had no idea if this was supposed to reassure her, but it didn’t.
Dr Boxer arrived, and wanted to give her a sedative, but she refused, even though Elizabeth tried to persuade her. She needed to be alert, just in case. Daisy brought her hot sweet tea and hugged her.
‘He’s going to be all right. I know he is,’ she told her, and Stella was grateful for her certainty, for no one else was able to give her any. She could see no one knew what to think, and they were beginning to fear the worst. Only something terrible could have stopped him from coming back by now.
Four hours. Five. It grew dark. The police arrived and interviewed everyone.
There was talk of searching the river, at which Stella became completely hysterical.
Clementine and Elizabeth surrounded her, held her tight, so tight, until she ran out of energy and collapsed onto a chair, weeping quietly.
What if she never found out what had happened to him?
What if he disappeared, leaving her to wonder for the rest of her life?
The men were out searching the nearby woods.
Elizabeth, Clementine and Stella sat together in the small sitting room, occasionally making a comment or a suggestion, on high alert for any noise that might suggest news.
Daisy brought in more tea and sat with them, visibly distraught.
Stella sat with her eyes shut and her hands twisting in her lap, her jaw clenched, rigid with tension.
Just after six o’clock, the telephone rang, an insistent drill into the hushed silence. Everyone froze, staring at each other. It could be Alexandra phoning for a gossip. Or the vicar. Or it could be—
Elizabeth flew to the hall and everyone followed. She picked up the receiver. She was quiet for a moment, then cried out and sank into the chair by the phone.
‘Oh, thank God!’
She smiled, but her face crumpled as she finally broke down, holding out the phone to Stella, unable to speak.
Stella grabbed the receiver off her. ‘Who is it?’
‘He’s run away to London, your boy,’ said a familiar voice.
‘Monsieur Corbières!’ Stella reached her hand out to hold Elizabeth’s.
She was smiling. The relief. The hot, sweet relief.
Was there a better feeling in all the world, as you felt fear and panic recede, pulling in their claws and crawling back into the shadows.
‘Where are you? Is he there? Can I speak to him?’
‘I am at the pub, using the telephone. He is here, with the puppy.’
‘How did he get there?’
‘The train, and the Underground, of course.’
‘But he’s got no money. That I know of.’
Monsieur C chuckled. ‘He’s cunning.’
Stella wasn’t quite so amused. ‘Keep him safe, Mr C. We’ll come and get him straight away.’
Clementine stepped forwards. ‘Alfie can drive you.’ The men were due back in half an hour, reporting in reguarly. ‘Daisy, go and pack some sandwiches, would you? And a flask of tea?’
Daisy nodded, beaming. ‘I knew he’d be all right. But bloody hell – the little monkey. All the way to London? He’s got more nerve than me, I’ll give him that.’
‘But why did he do it?’ asked Elizabeth, bewildered. ‘Why did he run away?’
‘I suppose we’ll find out,’ said Stella. Anger with Ted was starting to creep in, even though she hated the idea of being angry with him. But did he have any idea of the agony he’d put them through?
The next hour passed in a whirl of euphoria as they prepared to go and fetch Ted.
Luckily the Alvis had enough petrol to get them there, just. Elizabeth found blankets and cushions to keep them warm on the journey.
And Daisy packed up the hamper Harriet had brought, with cheese sandwiches and pork pie and cake and squash.
‘That’s enough to feed an army. We’re hoping to be back by morning,’ said Clementine, who had decided to come too.
Moral support would probably be needed, and she wasn’t sure Alfie would appreciate quite how high Stella’s emotions would be running.
Being a man, he thought the drama was over, but there was a chance it had only just begun.
Why had Ted run away, for a start? There were a lot of questions.
She telephoned Ben. She’d phoned him a few days before and told him about Stella and Ted.
Now, she asked him to go round to the shop to check up on the two of them.
Monsieur Corbières had sounded quite calm, but he was getting on and might not be on the ball with what Ted needed.
Stella was a bit anxious about Mr C’s ability to look after him, having been taken unawares, and worried he’d be giving him absinthe and oysters.
He would definitely have been well into his first bottle of wine by the time Ted had reached him.
Ben was the sort of person who could procure piping-hot fish and chips at a moment’s notice, or pie and mash – suitable fodder for the end of an adventure.
‘I was about to go out on the razz,’ Ben said. ‘We’re off to the Sunset Club later. Maybe you could come on after?’
‘No, Ben. We’re coming to fetch Ted, not having a night on the town.’ Clementine rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. ‘Can you pop round and see how they are? We’ll be there with Stella as soon as we can.’