Chapter 28 Dorothea
DOROTHEA
‘You look so well, Dorothea.’ Adeline Fitzhenry smiled, placing her shopping bag at the base of the bookshop counter. ‘Much better than last time I was in.’
Dorothea turned from the collection she had just been cataloguing. The animated face of Adeline was a welcome distraction from the Taxonomy of Fungus Spores.
‘I feel much better too,’ she said.
The Sisters Stubbs were hovering at the nearest bookshelf in the second room. A titter of excitement had passed between them when the village celebrity had entered.
‘How are you, Lady Fitzhenry?’ asked Dorothea, careful to use her proper title, when interested ears were about. Gossip had a way at taking hold in the village.
Adeline gave her a wry smile and glanced across the room. She raised her hand in greeting. ‘Hello, May. Hello, Elsie. How are you both?’
‘Oh very well, thank you, m’lady. How could we be anything else with this weather we’ve been having?’
‘How true. The sun is glorious!’ Adeline asked after their ageing mother, once employed as cook at the big house, then she turned back to Dorothea, eyes sparkling. ‘Any treasures today?’
‘Nothing, I’m afraid.’
‘Oh, well. Edward will be happy. I’m under orders not to buy another thing.’ She leaned in and whispered, ‘I’m reduced to hiding my parcels in the cloakroom cupboard if he’s around. And I’m quick to check the post before he sees it!’
Dorothea wondered if Edward’s displeasure was about finances or something else? A need to control her purchases, or the woman herself? Adeline had recounted some tales from the house that included Edward Fitzhenry, and it had made Dorothea wonder about him.
May and Elsie Stubbs shuffled towards the door. ‘Thank you, Dorothea. Nothing today. Goodbye, Lady Fitzhenry. We’ve got to catch the next bus. We’re off to the cinema to see that new film with Audrey Hepburn.’
‘Ooh, how thrilling!’ said Lady Fitz. ‘You must let us know if it’s good.’
Outside, they paused to talk to Mavis Brooks who had her toddler at her side. In the sunshine, the girl’s bright red ringlets shone like rubies.
Adeline watched, entranced. When she turned back her eyes glistened with tears.
‘What is it?’ said Dorothea quickly, ‘Is everything all right?’
Adeline sighed. ‘No. Not really.’ She retrieved a handkerchief and wiped her eyes. ‘Five years I’ve been trying for a child,’ she said. ‘And every month’—she shrugged—‘nothing. Some days the longing is hard to bear.’
‘Oh dear.’ Dorothea put her hand on top of Adeline’s and squeezed it. ‘You poor, poor thing. That must be so difficult.’
‘It should be natural, and easy, having a baby, shouldn’t it?’ She regarded Dorothea with a look full of yearning. ‘All Edward wants is a son. I’m so hopeless that I can’t even give him that.’
‘Adeline,’ whispered Dorothea, ‘you mustn’t say that.
It’s not your fault. Nature has its own ways.
’ Dorothea felt a swimming sense of discombobulation.
How could nature or God, or whoever oversaw the orderly continuity of the human population, get things so wrong?
Adeline needed a child. Dorothea did not.
This cosmic mix-up had caused them both significant anxieties.
Dorothea considered Adeline. She looked worn out.
Dorothea leaned in and gave her a quick hug.
‘I shall bake a cake to cheer you up. Tea tomorrow? What do you say?’