Chapter Forty-Eight
CHAPTER
FORTY - EIGHT
‘Now we need to find a pub!’ said Felicity, a couple of hours later. ‘Or shall we just take a taxi home? These bags are heavy.’
‘We need a pub,’ said Violet firmly. ‘And the bags wouldn’t be so heavy if you hadn’t made me buy so much.’
‘It’s only the boots that are heavy and you could have worn them out of the shop,’ said Felicity. ‘Oh look, let’s go there!’
It was fun, Violet admitted to herself, going shopping with Felicity. Although there was a febrile quality about her that told Violet she wasn’t happy, on the surface she was bright and positive and had a very good eye for clothes.
‘I suppose it must be the artist in you,’ Violet said to her when they both had glasses of wine and were sitting in the corner of a very nice pub where they didn’t feel uncomfortable being women without a man to look after them.
‘What?’ Felicity put down her glass.
‘Why you’re so good at choosing clothes.’
Felicity shrugged. ‘Or because I’m French?’
Violet was firm. ‘You’re only half French and I bet lots of Frenchwomen have no dress sense at all.’
‘I knew you’d look good in those clothes. Remember when you tried on my fur hat? It was so dashing! I could picture you being dragged along in a troika.’
‘I don’t think “being dragged along” is quite what troikas do, but I do feel happy in these clothes. I feel myself, but also as if I’m playing a part, so more confident. Not that I look anything like Julie Christie,’ she added.
‘You look like Violet,’ said Felicity firmly. ‘Which is perfect!’
They decided to order a couple of the very long sausages served in French bread for lunch when they saw people at the other tables eating them. A second glass of wine to go with the food made Violet feel able to ask Felicity a difficult question.
‘What are you going to do now?’
‘What? When we’re home?’
Violet shook her head. ‘No. Now you want to forget Oliver forever.’
‘Well, what are you going to do now Henry is going to live in a cottage where it’s rainy and windy all the time and is too far to walk to the pub?’
Violet realised Felicity wasn’t ready to answer her question. ‘I’ll be doing everything that I can for Miss Wynter to make her move to her new home as easy as possible, and I’ll be helping my best friend and my father get married. You’d be welcome to come to Stoneyhayes with me.’
Felicity shook her head. ‘I’m going home too. Back to Provence. I’m going to work on my portfolio and see if I can produce paintings that don’t take up an entire wall. I’m never going to forget Oliver while I’m in London. Besides …’ She paused. ‘I think my mother is seriously considering marrying Hector.’
‘Oh no!’
Felicity brushed aside Violet’s horror. ‘It’s fine! I know my mother will want to stay in London often and not bury herself in his freezing Scottish castle. We can still see each other in London. Paris isn’t so far away, after all.’
‘That sounds like a proper plan.’
‘But what about you? When is the wedding?’
‘Quite soon. Next month. It’s on a Saturday as that’s the easiest for the local people, who are all invited, as well as the less local people who live in big houses nearby and will just be coming because they’re nosy. But it’s important they all accept Jenny as the lady of the manor.’
‘So you’re sure about giving her away at the wedding?’
Violet smiled. ‘There was never any doubt. I love them both and I am truly happy about them getting married. I just hope the locals accept Jenny, who they knew as the woman who once sold them vegetables.’
‘Some of the local people at home found it hard to accept Alexandra at first, she told me. But when they realised she was actually quite grand in her own right, and not just the English nanny, they came round quite quickly.’
‘Jenny was very well liked in the village before she and my father … I don’t know how to put it …’
‘Became lovers?’
‘The French half of you is very outspoken, if I may say so, Felicity,’ said Violet, laughing. ‘Which is a very good thing!’
‘You English. You never say what you mean.’
‘We do, but we just take about a hundred words to say it.’ She took a sip of wine. ‘We just have to hope that none of the locals change their mind now. But I think me staying there will help. If I can accept my father and my best friend getting married, why should anyone else mind?’
‘People will think what they want to think,’ said Felicity. ‘At Christmas in Scotland everyone decided I was not a nice girl, just because they thought I had a French accent.’ She sighed deeply.
After a couple of moments’ thought, Violet said, ‘I know somewhere we can buy really good cakes. It’s quite continental. It’s opposite Harrods in the Brompton Road. Come on! A cream cake will cheer you up!’
Violet rang Jenny the moment she got home. ‘Sorry to leave it so long when I know you must have been waiting for me to ring.’
‘Oh, darling,’ said Jenny, sounding extremely relieved, ‘you can only just have got my letter—’
‘I’ll be delighted to give you away, Jenny. I’ve just spent a jolly morning buying something to wear. Felicity helped me.’
Jenny laughed. ‘So when can you come home? I want you to be part of the wedding and help us make decisions.’
‘I’ve got to make sure Miss Wynter is ready to move and that may take a little time. But I’ll make sure I pop down regularly to see you and tell you the colour of the bridesmaids’ dresses is awful!’
Jenny laughed. ‘I’m only having little bridesmaids. Mrs Driver’s younger grandchildren. I know people will think it’s odd that I’m having the housekeeper’s grandchildren as bridesmaids, but they’re extremely pretty and will look lovely in the photographs.’
Violet was feeling very cheerful when she put down the receiver a little later. She thoroughly approved of Jenny’s choice of bridesmaids: the true locals would be delighted and the snooty, more recent incomers to the village would be outraged. Perfect!
On Monday morning Violet walked to Miss Wynter’s mansion flat wondering how many more times she would make this journey. She realised how much she’d miss the frail, indomitable person, whom she’d sworn she’d never work for. She’d miss having a proper job too. At home there was always something that needed doing but not much of it gave her the satisfaction working for the bookshop had, or working for Miss Wynter.
‘How did it go?’ demanded Miss Wynter, even before Violet had got her coat off or been given the cup of coffee and homemade cake that had become the routine. ‘Did you find anything?’
‘Yes, we did!’ Violet made an effort to sound enthusiastic. Actually she had very mixed feelings about it all. ‘They’ve found at least three tiles with the family crest on them. Henry is utterly delighted. He plans to go up to Northumberland to finish the book,’ she added.
‘And how do you feel about that?’
Violet was given time to think about her reply by the arrival of coffee and cake. She took a bracing sip of the coffee, which was always strong, before she replied. ‘It makes perfect sense. Apparently he works better without distractions and the cottage is very remote.’
‘Won’t he have his car?’ asked Miss Wynter, who always wanted every detail.
‘I suppose so. I’m just quoting what he said.’ Violet took a bite of cake. Already she was feeling flustered, in spite of having rehearsed what she was going to say to Miss Wynter on the subject of Henry. ‘He has to do what he thinks best.’
Miss Wynter made a sound which could have been of disgust at this opinion or her clearing her throat.
‘Something else which has happened since I last saw you is that I had a letter from Jenny – you know—’
‘I know perfectly well who Jenny is! She’s your old friend who’d rather be an old man’s darling than a young man’s slave.’
Violet laughed, as she knew she was meant to. Miss Wynter would never be openly kind or tactful but she could be both those things. ‘Yes,’ Violet agreed. ‘And she’s asked me if I’ll give her away at the wedding. She has no male relatives who could do it.’
‘I hope that isn’t the only reason she’s chosen you. Although of course the concept of one person giving away another is outrageous, I can see that Jenny will need support at the altar.’
Violet put down her coffee cup. ‘I also think she wants to show the world – or rather our quite small local community – that I am perfectly happy about her marrying my father.’
‘And are you?’
‘Yes. It was a bit strange to begin with. It was like Jenny had joined the grown-ups. But she is older than I am and she and my father are so natural together that I stopped feeling it was odd.’
Miss Wynter nodded. ‘So do you plan to spend the entire morning eating cake or do you think you might do something to earn your wages?’
Laughing, Violet got to her feet and picked up the tray on which her coffee had been served. ‘I do like you, Miss Wynter, because in spite of your very best efforts to the contrary, you always manage to cheer me up.’
She glanced at Miss Wynter as she took the tray through to the kitchen and saw that she was pleased.
Nearly a month had passed. Miss Wynter had had her room at the nursing home confirmed and Violet had been helping her get ready to move house. Miss Wynter wanted everything filed and documented in a very particular way and even Violet, who was good at this sort of thing, found it time-consuming, but she managed to fit in several trips to Stoneyhayes to help Jenny with the wedding arrangements.
Miss Wynter enjoyed the whole process from the safety of her chair, with Sigmund on her lap, waiting for his walk. She liked to talk about Violet’s situation with Henry.
‘Are you telling me that he has made no attempt to get in touch with you since he went away?’ she asked.
‘He did send me and Felicity enormous bouquets of flowers from Moyses Stevens after we found the tiles, but since then? Not even a postcard.’ Violet put a pre-war Berlin bus timetable in the ‘Miscellaneous’ file. She wasn’t sure this was the right place but it would have to do.
‘Well, I’d forget all about him if I were you!’ said Miss Wynter.
‘I have been trying to do that but as you mention him several times a day, I’m finding it difficult.’ At one time Violet would have smiled so this remark wouldn’t seem rude, but these days she just said this sort of thing with a raised eyebrow.
‘You’re bound to meet someone at your father’s wedding,’ Miss Wynter said. ‘It’s amazing how many people meet their future spouses at weddings. One of the reasons I never used to go to them. Couldn’t take the risk.’
‘I’ll try and avoid that at all costs. After all, you’ve been very happy not being married, haven’t you?’
Miss Wynter nodded. ‘But not everyone is like me. You’re not, for example.’
‘I’m going to change that!’ said Violet firmly. ‘Are you sure you want all these books?’
‘Books are my only friends. I’ll need them with me.’
‘I promise to come and visit you in your new home, Miss Wynter,’ said Violet.
‘Even if I’m not paying you?’
‘Especially if you’re not paying me,’ said Violet. She realised suddenly how much she’d miss their friendship.
Miss Wynter laughed.