Chapter Twenty-Nine
CHAPTER
TWENTY - NINE
When Violet got into work the following morning, she found Henry already in her basement. He was restive.
‘I’ve boiled the kettle, but I still don’t know if you like tea or coffee at this time of the morning. There’s so much I’d like to know about you.’
Trying not to feel flattered by this, Violet smiled. ‘Tea until about ten o’clock, then I move on to coffee.’
‘Right, got it! By the way, I was on the phone to your father last night.’
‘Oh?’ Violet had spoken to her father too, but he hadn’t mentioned speaking to Henry. But she had telephoned the second after six o’clock, when it was cheaper.
‘He said I should ask you to help me get my book ready for my agent. He suggested you’d be able to help me choose photographs and things.’
For a usually confident man, he seemed hesitant. Violet thought she knew why. Her father would have said, ‘Why don’t you give it to Vi? She’s brilliant at all that organisational stuff. She can spell, too. She’s just the person you want to sort all that out.’ And Henry was trying to translate her father’s glib assertions into language he felt she might find more acceptable.
‘I have helped my father do things like that since I was twelve. So do I gather you haven’t got a publisher for your book yet?’
‘No. I’m hoping my agent may be able to secure interest on the material I have, which is quite a lot. The part that’s missing is the exact whereabouts of the forgotten palace I’m describing. I need concrete proof it existed.’ He laughed ruefully. ‘Not sure anyone’s going to want to read about something which is all speculation.’
‘But would an agent do that? Surely it would be difficult?’
‘I’m hoping, very much, that my agent will be able to convince a publisher that proof is only a few months away.’
‘Well, I’d be delighted to help you. Where is the material?’
He picked up a pile of folders about two feet high. ‘Here.’
Suddenly the mess of papers Violet had been dealing with since she arrived made sense. Henry was not good at keeping his papers in order, she realised. Her father was the same. He’d frantically type a section of whatever he was working on and stuff it in a folder (after Violet had trained him to do this, when she was thirteen) and carry on pursuing the next thought in his head, even if this was about an earlier or later time period, or something completely different.
‘I’ll do what I can.’ She smiled. She loved this sort of work. And while she tried very hard to fool herself into denying it, she was very nearly in love with Henry. Her heart said she was totally in love with him, but her brain was hanging on to a bit of sanity.
‘I’ll take you out to lunch as a thank you,’ said Henry.
Violet looked up at him. ‘Are you suggesting this will be done by lunchtime?’
He shook his head. ‘I’ll take you out to lunch anyway.’
‘That will cause talk,’ said Violet firmly, her heart singing.
‘A drink later, then. No one need know about that.’
‘I’ll think about it.’ She picked up the first folder.
‘Would you mind if I left you to it? I have meetings—’
‘Of course.’
‘I’ll be back this evening to take you for a drink, if not before,’ said Henry. Then, to Violet’s relief, he took his distracting presence away.
She was glad to discover that Henry’s papers were more ordered than her father’s always were. And she enjoyed putting them into even better order. She enjoyed reading what he’d written, too. Although it was an academic work, his style was easy to follow and he made things interesting.
The day went by pleasantly enough, more pleasantly because Violet was sure she would accept Henry’s invitation to a drink.
Towards the end of the day she came across a photograph which made her pause. It was of a crest, a family emblem. She knew that she’d seen it before.
Henry came in at that moment. ‘It’s ten to five, time to shut up shop!’ he said. ‘Oh? What’s wrong?’
‘Nothing’s wrong,’ said Violet. ‘It’s just this photograph. I’ve seen it before.’
‘What, the photograph?’
‘No! The crest. Hang on.’ She put down the photograph and went to the files she had been working on for so long. She riffled through them. ‘Ah!’
She carried a file over to the desk. ‘Look! I found this image and put it in here with the miscellaneous.’
‘That’s the family crest of the de Launceys. It’s my thesis that they owned the palace,’ he said. ‘Are there other papers relating to this?’
‘In the file.’ Violet handed it to him.
Henry scanned the documents. ‘This is wonderful,’ he said. ‘I’ll need to look at these more closely, but I think they will help enormously.’
‘Where do you think the palace was?’
‘On or near the river, but I have no physical proof. But still; I’m sure my agent will be able to interest a publisher in what I’ve got. The book won’t sell many copies, of course, but it’s interesting.’
‘I’ve enjoyed what I’ve read,’ said Violet. ‘I love the idea of there being the remains of a palace under the Thames.’
‘Why particularly?’ He leant forward a little.
‘It’s so romantic, isn’t it? You can imagine the rooms, the gardens, the lives of the people who lived there. What happened? Why was it abandoned?’
‘No one really knows. My theory is that the last two men of the de Launcey family destroyed it rather than let the other have it. There are papers showing that they loathed each other.’ He gave her a smile that made her catch her breath. ‘I think you’re my saviour, Violet.’
Violet was in the shop, putting on her gloves and waiting for Henry who was talking to Sylvia when the telephone rang. It was for Henry. He sounded animated the moment he discovered who it was, in spite of the shop being just about to close. Then he put his hand over the receiver. ‘Our drink will have to wait,’ he said to Violet, thus informing everyone there of their plans.
Violet smiled and nodded, her pride hiding her feelings. ‘We can talk about my father another time,’ she said. As cheerfully as she could she called, ‘Goodnight,’ and left, putting a spring in her step she was far from feeling.
She walked home furious. She didn’t know if she was hurt, disappointed, or just embarrassed by Henry’s public announcement. It was the second time he’d been hopelessly indiscreet. She’d wanted to keep their relationship, however casual, secret from her colleagues. She wished she could phone Jenny, but the thought of having to get her father, or maybe Kiki, to find her, and then for Jenny to sit in the freezing hall and listen to Violet’s complaints, wouldn’t be like the cosy chats they used to share. And what could Jenny say? Violet couldn’t have her drink with Henry. So what?
When she thought about it as she walked, Violet realised her feelings were based on disappointment. A pleasure had had to be postponed. But surely she should be able to cope with this without having a tantrum?
If only the thought that the caller was a woman hadn’t niggled at her. She couldn’t be certain, of course, but Henry’s manner when he spoke implied he was speaking to someone he knew well and was fond of.
Instead of walking straight home Violet found her way to a small off-licence. She bought a bottle of gin, some tonic and some of her favourite cheese-flavoured crackers. If Felicity was around, she’d invite her for drinks. She might not tell her about her disappointment, but she could do with the company.
She deliberately got into work a little late the following morning. Felicity had come up to the flat and shared a couple of strong gin and tonics, so she felt a little jaded.
And for reasons she didn’t quite understand, she was embarrassed about yesterday. She knew she had behaved in a perfectly dignified way in public, but somehow she had convinced herself that everyone would know how disappointed she had felt. It was as if she’d been stood up by a date – who happened to be her boss – and everyone knew. She didn’t want to risk being on her own with Henry until she’d got herself properly under control.
She needn’t have worried. Sylvia gave her a sunny smile. ‘You’ll be able to get on with your work in piece today, Violet. Henry’s gone to see Dr Saunders.’
Violet’s smile reflected Sylvia’s. ‘I hope he’s not ill.’ She hoped her smile would indicate that she knew perfectly well it was unlikely that Dr Saunders was a medical doctor.
Sylvia laughed prettily. ‘Dr Saunders and Henry have worked together on a number of projects. They’re very good friends. She’s writing a book now. She’ll want his advice, I’m sure.’
Violet nodded. ‘They all end up writing books, don’t they? I wonder if as many people read their books as write them?’ And with this she retreated to her basement.
She was fighting tears when she got there. She felt such an utter fool. How could she have imagined, even for a moment, that she could help Henry and that he not only liked her for herself, but respected her skills? There’s no fool like an old fool, she told herself, even if she wasn’t particularly old. She put on the kettle and ate a custard cream while she waited for it to boil. She didn’t much like custard creams, but she wanted to bite something.
That night, after a day of sorting through papers, Violet was delighted to receive a telephone call from Jenny.
‘You will never guess where I’m ringing from!’
‘Where?’ said Violet obligingly. She could tell her friend was fizzing with happiness.
‘The gamekeeper’s cottage! Aubrey really pulled the stops out, got everyone working hard and it’s finished! I mean not completely finished, but I can live in it. I can make curtains and things later. But it’s so cosy!’
‘Oh, Jenny, that’s lovely!’ Violet paused, not daring to mention Kiki and her father. ‘And?’
Jenny obviously knew what Violet was worried about. ‘Aubrey was very sweet to Kiki. He thanked her profusely for all her hard work over Christmas, gave her a set of luggage, including the most heavenly handbag – chosen by me. I knew it was what she wanted, and it was from Asprey’s so you can imagine what it cost.’
‘Not sure that I can actually. Did she realise he was ending the relationship? It could have looked like an engagement present.’
‘He did make it clear it wasn’t and she was disappointed, obviously, but I really do think the luggage made up for it. She was in love with Aubrey’s title and the potential of turning his crumbling mansion into a minor stately home, but you know she wasn’t passionate about him as a person.’
Violet laughed. ‘So is Daddy in the minor stately home all on his own?’
‘Yes, although … we are engaged! Of course I’m not asking for your permission exactly, but it’s desperately important to both of us that you feel happy about it.’ Jenny paused, waiting for Violet’s reaction.
‘Oh, Jenny! It is a bit strange, my best friend marrying my father, but I love you both and as long as you don’t start telling me my skirts are too short, or anything like that, I will be thrilled.’
Jenny’s sigh of relief was audible. ‘We’re waiting to get married for a while, so no one can say we’re not respectable.’
‘That sounds a little bit disappointing. You’ve found each other after all these years and now you’re being all Jane Austen about it.’
Jenny cleared her throat. ‘Well, the path through the woods to my door is fairly well trodden, so you don’t have to be too disappointed.’
Violet laughed again. ‘I’m so happy for you.’
‘And you’ve got lovely Henry. Such a nice man! He was so kind to Kiki’s sisters, and men usually only wash up once a visit. He was elbow deep in soap suds all day!’
Violet felt awkward for a whole different reason now. ‘I think love has made you see things in a slightly optimistic way – though he was kind and did do a lot of washing up.’
‘But? He’s not married or anything, is he? I grilled Aubrey but you know what he’s like. He wasn’t really sure.’
‘He’s spending time with a Dr Saunders who he’s been working with. Going on what Sylvia – she runs the shop – was saying, or rather not saying, they have a shared past.’
‘Oh, Vi!’
‘I feel such a fool! How could I have thought anything could happen between us? Just because we got on so well at Christmas?’
‘You got on brilliantly at Christmas. It was lovely to watch.’
This made Violet laugh. ‘You weren’t watching! You were wrapped up in my father!’
‘A little bit, maybe.’
‘Anyway,’ said Violet after a pause, ‘I was obviously completely mistaken. I know now. I’ll get over it. It’s not the first time, after all.’
‘The right man is there for you. You may just have to wait for him. Like I did.’
Violet sighed. ‘And put up with all the “on the shelf” remarks. To be honest I’d rather just embrace my single status. Why should I need a man to make me happy? Look at Athene. She’s not married and leads a wonderful life.’
‘Yes,’ said Jenny carefully. ‘But although she’s not married, I don’t think she’s single all the time.’
‘Maybe I won’t be single all the time – but I’m definitely not looking for a man.’
The next day, she put on her shortest skirt (which, sadly, was only just above her knee), bright-coloured tights and a scarlet polo-neck jumper. She wanted the world to know she was happy and contented as she was. It was a lie, but no one would ever guess: she was determined.
Halfway through the morning, when Violet had almost stopped dreading and wishing for Henry to appear, a woman came into the basement.
She was about Violet’s age, and was wearing a matching dress and coat in daffodil yellow which looked wonderful with her jet-black hair. She smiled at Violet. ‘Hello, I’m Dr Saunders, a colleague of Henry’s. I don’t need to ask who you are because I’ve heard such a lot about you. Violet?’
Violet hoped her broad smile would disguise how extremely patronised this woman made her feel.
‘You won’t have heard because it’s only just happened but there’s been a marvellous opportunity!’ Dr Saunders continued.
‘Oh?’ Some reaction was obviously required.
‘Yes! I’m booked to do a long lecture tour with another academic all over America, but he’s had to pull out. I’ve arranged for Henry to step in! It’ll be so good for his career and will be a real help if he wants to lecture more in the future.’ She smiled, her excitement fizzing like an Alka-Seltzer. ‘I know he wants to finish his book and there will be time for him to do that as we move between states. We’ll be in Connecticut for several weeks and I’ll be on hand to help him. We work so well together; always have.’ She paused for breath. ‘Now, if you can just give me everything you’ve been sorting out – anything relevant to Henry’s work, that is.’ A smile. ‘I’m sure you’re so efficient that you know which ones they are?’
Violet knew this woman wasn’t at all sure that Violet was bright enough to know this. She took a deep breath to calm herself.
‘Of course.’
‘You are a dear!’
She watched Violet gather up the files, beaming like the sun shining on willing workers in the field; benevolent but all-powerful.
‘Can you manage these?’ asked Violet, putting a pile of files into Dr Saunders’s hand.
‘Of course! And I just want to say, I love your red jumper. So many people your age would have stuck to beige and navy blue. Especially for work.’
Violet smiled so broadly her cheeks hurt. ‘Beige and navy blue drain all the colour from me, and no one sees me down here in the basement, anyway.’
‘The fact you’re down here in the basement doesn’t mean you’re not doing useful work,’ said Dr Saunders kindly.
‘Oh, I know,’ said Violet, who’d kept back one file she considered really important.
Dr Saunders suddenly stopped trying to be the kindly superior colleague, took the bundle of papers and left. Violet heard the shop door bang shut hard.
To her surprise, Sylvia came down. She hadn’t felt that she and Sylvia could be friends before, but now the shop manager seemed to want to get something off her chest.
‘That woman! I know she’s Henry’s friend but I cannot stand the way she comes in here and lords it over everyone. Henry never does! He’s always respectful and polite. But Dr Saunders seems to think she’s the cat’s pyjamas.’ She drew breath. ‘I can just imagine how she treated you, Violet. She cannot abide any woman other than her doing anything with Henry. You’d think she owns him! She doesn’t even work here!’
Violet patted Sylvia’s hand; the manager seemed even more upset about the doctor’s visit that she was. ‘Can I make you a cup of tea, Sylvia? Or coffee? I’ve got some nice custard creams.’
Ignoring this offer, Sylvia went on: ‘And now they’re going on this lecture tour of the States together. Goodness knows when they’ll be back! Apparently it’s very well paid and will be good for his career, but really!’
‘I bet she slept her way to the top,’ said Violet solemnly. As she was meant to, Sylvia giggled.
‘My mother would have said she was no better than she ought to be,’ said Sylvia a little later, when they both had tea and were tucking into the biscuits. By the time the manager went upstairs again, Violet had decided that, as annoying as Dr Saunders was, and however much her heart may be broken, at least she and Sylvia were good friends.
Just before Violet was about to go for lunch, the shop telephone rang. For some reason she waited while Sylvia answered it. It was obviously Henry.
Sylvia was silent for a few seconds after she had replaced the receiver. ‘Henry’s going to come and explain what he’ll be doing and to say goodbye to everyone.’
There were murmurings. Most people were going to miss him.
‘When is he coming in?’ asked Violet.
‘About two. You’ve got time for lunch first.’
Violet adopted a pained expression. ‘But I forgot to mention, I’ve got a dentist’s appointment at two! I won’t be here. I’m so sorry to miss him.’
‘I didn’t know you had a dentist’s appointment,’ said Sylvia, sounding suspicious.
Violet tried to look pained and actually in pain at the same time. ‘I can only apologise. I forgot earlier because I’d taken an aspirin and it wasn’t hurting, but my toothache started last night.’ She held on to her jaw in the classic cartoon way. No way in the world did she want to be there when Henry said goodbye to everyone.
‘Look, don’t bother to come back after lunch, just go to your appointment and go home and look after yourself,’ said Sylvia. ‘Henry will no doubt be disappointed.’
‘Can I get you anything while I’m out?’ asked Violet, suddenly stricken with guilt. ‘I know it’ll be late—’
‘It’s all right,’ said Sylvia, a little mollified. ‘I’m on this new diet I read about in a magazine. A grapefruit and some salami. You’re guaranteed to lose five pounds in a week. I brought it with me.’ She made a face. ‘I hate grapefruit but apparently it burns the calories.’