Chapter 30
Chapter 30
The following morning Fitz woke feeling much better than she had the night before. When she’d got back to Bignor House, she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Sam and his rejection of her. It truly was painful and, she had to admit, somewhat unexpected. Yes, she had been prepared for Sam to be feeling down and pretty sorry for himself, as he had every right to, but to point blank refuse to see her. That had not been on any horizon she’d been looking at.
When she’d gone to bed that night, she had lain awake for a long time going over and over the quite frankly ghastly situation. If only she’d let herself love Sam sooner and had told him how much she cared about him, then he might not have turned her away. But now, would she ever get the chance to tell him what a stupid fool she’d been and that he was the best thing to ever happen to her?
Fresh tears erupted. She hated feeling so helpless. Not being able to control the situation was her biggest fear and that fear had ironically led her to the very same point. She had gone full circle but missed her chance to break the cycle. Missed her chance to love and be loved.
Love. She loved Sam. Fact. She had never been in love with a man before so why was she squandering her chance at happiness now? He was the only man who’d made her feel like this and she had pushed him away. Now she’d come to her senses, he didn’t think he was good enough. How wrong could a person be?
What was it Bob had said? Where was her gung-ho spirit?
Where, indeed? Geraldine Fitz-Herbert wasn’t one to be beaten so easily. Fitz reminded herself of all the times she’d come up against adversity or authority. Had she just lain down and rolled over? No, she had not. She had always fought hard for what she believed in, for what she wanted and for what she loved. Why should Sam Carter receive any different treatment?
She had already booked her and Yvette two train tickets to Cambridge. They were off to Badcombe House to visit her father and Camilla.
Much as she was desperate to go back to try to see Sam, she had to think everything through. It would be her one and only chance to convince him they had a future together. She needed to ensure everything was in place so he couldn’t argue with her.
Her mind was whirring furiously as she jumped out of bed, washed and dressed.
She wanted to be prepared for when MI6 got back in touch. If she wasn’t going into France as a spy again, she still wanted to make a significant contribution to the war effort and working at one of their secret locations doing something so top secret, she really had no idea what, only that it involved her linguistic skills, then that’s what she would do. It felt good to have a plan.
The train ride to Cambridgeshire took several hours, but her father had sent his car down to the station to collect her and Yvette. She had warned him she was bringing a guest with her but that was all she had said.
Now sitting in the Armstrong Siddeley, it glided through the gates of Badcombe House and up the gravel driveway. Fitz was surprised, not to mention flattered to see her father come out onto the steps to greet her.
‘Geraldine,’ he said warmly, embracing her in his outstretched arms. Fortunately, the bruising on her face had gone down a lot and she hoped her father wouldn’t notice. She’d applied a little more make-up than she had the day before and with his eyesight not quite as sharp as that of her friends, she hoped she’d get away without him noticing.
‘Hello, Geraldine.’ It was Camilla.
Fitz forced a smile to her face and greeted her stepmother. ‘Hello, Camilla. How are you?’
‘I’m very well, thank you. So nice to see you.’ Camilla almost disguised the frown on her face as she looked at Fitz but didn’t quite manage it. ‘How are you?’
‘Very well, too,’ Fitz replied. ‘I’ve got someone with me.’
‘Oh, yes. Your father said you were bringing a guest. I wondered if it might be a young man,’ said Camilla.
‘It’s not a young man,’ corrected Fitz. ‘It’s a young girl. She’s nine years old. She’s French and her name is Yvette.’
Both adults looked bemused. ‘Oh. Yes. Right. Jolly good,’ blustered her father.
Fitz went back to the car. Hesitantly and gripping firmly onto Fitz’s hand, Yvette stepped out onto the driveway. ‘You’ll have to speak French to her,’ Fitz informed her father and Camilla. ‘She doesn’t know any English.’
‘Welcome to Badcombe House,’ said Fitz’s father in his clear and fluent French. He stepped forward and held out his hand which Yvette dutifully shook.
‘Hello, Yvette,’ said Camilla. Her French wasn’t quite as competent as Edward’s, but it was good enough to be understood. ‘How lovely to meet you. Do you like biscuits? Cook has just baked some.’ She held out her hand and to Fitz’s surprise, Yvette took it, seemingly happy to go with Camilla.
Fitz and her father exchanged a look as they followed on. Camilla was doing a sterling job of chatting away to the little girl. ‘You’ll have to meet Geraldine’s brother, Michael,’ she was saying.
Yvette turned and looked at Fitz. ‘Oh, gosh,’ said Fitz. ‘I forgot, Yvette doesn’t know my real name.’
Everyone paused in the doorway.
‘Doesn’t know your real name?’ queried her father.
‘Why doesn’t she––’ Camilla stopped mid-sentence. Her eyes wide as she looked at Fitz.
Fitz could tell Camilla had immediately put two and two together. She shook her head at her stepmother. ‘I’ll explain later.’ Fitz knelt in front of Yvette. ‘So, I should have told you before but now I’m in England, I can use my English name – Geraldine or some people call me Fitz. Do you think you can remember that?’
Yvette looked confused as if this was the most ridiculous thing she’d heard. ‘You have three names?’
Fitz scrunched up her nose. ‘Kind of. But mostly I’m simply called Fitz.’
As they went through to the sitting room, Fitz was nearly bowled right over as Michael ran at her, throwing his arms around her waist.
‘Geraldine!’ he cried.
‘Michael! Oh, I’ve missed you. Let me see you.’ She held her little brother at arm’s length and then held her hand above his head, measuring his height against her. ‘My goodness, I do believe you’ve grown since I last saw you.’
Michael beamed with pride. ‘Soon I’ll be taller than you.’
‘You have a little way to go yet,’ replied Fitz. ‘Anyway, I’d like you to meet a friend I’ve brought with me.’ She held out her arm towards Yvette, who shyly came over. ‘Michael this is Yvette.’ And then in French. ‘Yvette this is Michael.’
‘Hello,’ said Michael.
‘Darling, you will need to try to speak as much French as you can to Yvette,’ said Camilla. ‘She doesn’t speak English.’
‘ Bonjour ,’ said Michael. ‘ Tu aimes les trains ? J’ai mes trains dans la salle de jeux .’
Fitz wasn’t sure if Yvette would want to play with Michael’s train set but after a moment’s hesitation, Yvette smiled. ‘ Oui .’
Michael gestured for her to follow him. Yvette looked at Fitz, who nodded. ‘Go on. The playroom is upstairs.’
Yvette followed Michael out of the room and then Fitz heard their feet galloping up the stairs as Michael, who had slipped back into English, was excitedly telling Yvette about the new Dorchester Loco and coal tender he’d got for his birthday.
‘I’m sure they will be fine,’ said Edward. ‘So, tell us about our surprise house guest.’
‘Well, I can’t go into too much detail,’ warned Fitz, sitting down on the sofa. ‘But I’m looking after Yvette until it’s safe for her to go back to France. We don’t know what happened to her family at this point. It’s possible they aren’t alive anymore.’
‘Oh, the poor little mite,’ said Camilla.
‘That is terrible,’ agreed Edward, picking up his pipe from the side table. He looked at his daughter. ‘And what about you? I suspect you can’t tell us your role in all this.’
‘No. I’m sorry.’
‘Are you still flying with the ATA?’ asked Camilla.
‘I was just coming to that,’ replied Fitz, unsure of the concerned look her stepmother was giving her. ‘I might be having a little change in direction. Working for the government, but I really can’t say anything more. To be honest, I don’t know much else.’
‘It all sounds very secretive,’ said Camilla. ‘But then everything is these days. You don’t know who you could be speaking to or who is listening. We keep being told to Keep it under your hat and Mr Hitler wants to know. There are posters on the village notice board.’
‘And rightly so,’ said Edward, lighting his pipe.
‘So, going back to Yvette,’ said Fitz. ‘If I do take up this new position, or even if I do go back to flying for the ATA, I wondered if––’
Camilla held up her hand, cutting Fitz off before she’d finished. ‘Stop,’ she said.
‘But you don’t know what I was going to say,’ protested Fitz.
‘Sorry,’ said Camilla. ‘I didn’t mean to interrupt. It was just purely to say yes.’
Fitz hesitated. ‘To say yes?’
‘Yes.’ Camilla smiled somewhat uncertainly. ‘Well, I assumed you were going to ask if you and Yvette could stay here.’
Fitz was taken by surprise. She looked at her father who gave a shrug, before he spoke. ‘I was going to say, it goes without saying but, on reflection, maybe it does indeed need saying.’ He smiled at Fitz. ‘You know you always have a home here, Geraldine, and so does Yvette.’
‘It will be lovely to fill the house with children’s laughter,’ said Camilla. ‘When we had the two evacuee children here, I don’t think I’ve ever heard Michael laugh so much. It was such a shame when they went home.’
Fitz was lost for words. She hadn’t expected it to be that easy. She had already decided she wasn’t going to beg. If her father had said no, or rather if Camilla had said no, then she would work something else out. But that didn’t look like it was necessary. ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘That’s very kind of you both.’
‘You can stay as long as you like,’ said Camilla. There was a look of happiness Fitz hadn’t seen before on her stepmother’s face and something else, almost gratitude.
‘Claudine. Fitz!’ It was Yvette calling from the top of the stairs. ‘Come and look!’
‘Oh, I’d better go and see what I need to look at,’ said Fitz. ‘Not that I haven’t seen Michael’s train set a million times.’
Fitz spent several minutes admiring the train set for Yvette’s benefit and inspecting the new engine Michael had been given for his birthday, before heading back downstairs.
As she got to the last tread, she heard Camilla speaking. Fitz paused, more out of habit from when she lived at home and used to pause to eavesdrop on anything Camilla might be saying.
‘I’m so glad Geraldine is back,’ came Camilla’s voice. ‘I know you’ve been worried sick about her.’
‘Yes. I think she might have been in France,’ said Edward in a low voice.
Fitz strained to hear.
‘Yes. I thought so too,’ replied Camilla. ‘Especially as she’s now got Yvette. Heavens knows how that has come about. She seems a sweet child.’
‘Yes. I’m going to have to brush up on my French,’ said Edward.
‘It will be nice company for Michael, too,’ continued Camilla.
At that moment, footsteps from the kitchen sounded. Fitz looked around and there was dear Annie, carrying a tray of tea and sandwiches.
‘Oh, Miss Geraldine, Cook said you were coming. How are you?’
‘Annie! I’m very well, thank you.’ Fitz smiled broadly at the young woman. ‘You’re looking well.’
‘Thank you, Miss.’
‘Here, let me get the door for you.’
The conversation between her father and stepmother had stopped and after telling Annie she’d come and see her later, Fitz sat down for what turned into a very civil hour. There was something different about Camilla that she couldn’t quite work out. A thawing, maybe or had Camilla not changed? Was it Fitz who had changed and the angular corners of her younger-self been knocked off and smoothed a little after her experience of being away from home?
She could feel a warmth emanating from her stepmother. Was it a new thing, or had it always been there and Fitz had refused to see it?
The rest of the day passed happily. Fitz didn’t see much of Yvette. Despite the language barrier between the two children, Michael knew enough French to communicate with Yvette and the two of them seemed to have hit it off. Fitz had taken them both for a walk in the afternoon, exploring the gardens, showing Yvette the stables where her father still had his horse, Colonel. A large chestnut hunter whose hunting days were over but Edward hadn’t been able to part with him.
Fitz stroked the horse’s velvety muzzle, thinking of the last colonel she’d come into contact with and wondering what had happened to Hoffmann. Had he been brought to England? Were they both on the same shores once again? Him now the one on enemy territory? She wouldn’t ever know, of course. She was just a mere player in the game of war and espionage.
All too soon, it was time to think about leaving. The children had once again disappeared back to the playroom and Fitz had been chatting with Annie, catching up on all her latest news – mainly that Annie was getting married to her sweetheart the next time he was home on leave.
‘I said she should wait until after the war,’ said Cook, as she peeled potatoes at the large pine kitchen table. ‘War can change a man. The man that left is not the soldier who returns.’
Annie rolled her eyes. ‘She’s a happy one, isn’t she?’
‘And you’re the one with her head in the clouds full of romantic notions. Take those rose coloured specs off,’ retorted Cook.
Fitz couldn’t help laughing. The two women clearly were fond of each other even though they were often opposed. They had worked together for several years now and were probably more like mother and daughter.
A little pang of envy and hope shot through Fitz. Today, had been quite a strange day in lots of ways, but something had changed between her and Camilla, and it was for the better.
After saying her goodbyes to Cook and Annie, promising them she would be back again in a few days, she went off to find her father. She only got as far as the hallway. Camilla was standing there, waiting for Fitz.
‘Is everything all right?’ asked Fitz, wondering if something had happened.
‘Geraldine … Fitz,’ began Camilla. She fiddled with the pearls around her neck, clearly feeling uncomfortable. And she never called Fitz by anything other than her given Christian name. Fitz waited for the bombshell. ‘Could I have a moment? In the drawing room?’
‘Certainly,’ said Fitz. She followed her stepmother into the room which overlooked the rose garden. It was a favourite place of Fitz’s in the summer when she lived at home. The beautiful scent of the blooms and the glorious array of colours set out in a circle with inner circles of roses and a bench in the centre. This time of year though, all the roses had been pruned back for the winter. The garden was bare and stark. How fitting.
‘Please, sit down,’ said Camilla, taking the chair while Fitz sat on the sofa. ‘I just wanted to ask if you really are all right,’ she began. ‘I know you can’t say what happened, but I couldn’t help noticing your eye. It looks a little bruised. I can only imagine what’s happened. But I wanted to check.’
Fitz thought of the letter Camilla had sent her and reminded herself that her stepmother was actually a caring and compassionate woman. An observant one, too. She remembered Camilla looking at her strangely when she had first arrived, it must have been when she noticed Fitz’s bruising.
‘I thought I had covered the bruising, but it seems I’m not as good at it as I thought.’ First Elsie and now Camilla. Fitz made a mental note to apply more face powder. Although hopefully in a day or two she wouldn’t need to.
‘I suspect you’ve been through something quite unimaginable for someone like me, sitting here in this big house, having the luxury of staff and plenty of food on the table,’ said Camilla. ‘I’m very aware of the privileged position I’m in and, I have to say, somewhat embarrassed given what’s going on in the world.’
‘You shouldn’t be embarrassed,’ said Fitz. ‘And you could use your position to help others.’
‘Yes. Indeed,’ said Camilla. ‘In fact, I’ve been thinking about that. I need to speak to your father first, but I thought about opening up the gardens to the villagers. Not to admire the flowers, but to share the produce. I’m turning the whole east side of the garden over to vegetables.’
‘That’s a great idea,’ said Fitz. ‘But the rose garden …’
‘Oh, not that. I know it was your mother’s creation and it’s so beautiful, I really wouldn’t want to destroy that. And I know how much you love it. I wouldn’t take that from you.’
Fitz was quite stunned at this. She hadn’t realised Camilla was aware of her attachment to the rose garden, but Fitz was beginning to realise just how much of Camilla’s kindness she had refused to see. ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘I appreciate that.’
There was a small silence, before Camilla spoke again. ‘I know things haven’t always been easy between us––’
‘Your letter,’ Fitz said, before Camilla could continue.
‘Ah, yes …’
‘Thank you,’ said Fitz.
Camilla met her gaze and gave a small nod. ‘I …’ she began uncertainly.
‘It’s all right,’ said Fitz. ‘You don’t need to say anything. I just want you to know how sorry I am.’
Camilla looked a little surprised but then gave a sad smile. ‘As am I,’ she said. ‘I haven’t always been the kind of stepmother I’ve wanted to be. I’m not making excuses, but I had no idea how to help you and I think I made quite a mess of it at times. I am sorry.’
‘It wasn’t only you,’ Fitz said. ‘I know I wasn’t always very nice to you. I’m sorry.’
‘No don’t apologise,’ said Camilla hastily. ‘You were a child. You’d lost your mother. You were angry and didn’t understand why, and then I swanned into your life and quite frankly, tried too hard. And when you continued to be angry, it made me keep you at arm’s length. I didn’t know how to deal with your emotions.’ She dipped her gaze for a moment before looking up again. ‘While you were away, I can’t tell you how worried both your father and I were about you. When I heard about your friend dying, it terrified me but it made me realise how much I cared for you. I had hidden those feeling away because I had been rejected. All rather immature of me.’
‘I felt I was betraying my mother by accepting you,’ said Fitz softly. ‘It felt disloyal. That’s why I rebelled. I didn’t want anything to change but that day everything changed forever and it was outside of my control. I didn’t know what to do. I see that now, but it’s only recently I’ve understood myself.’
‘You were hurting and your father and I didn’t know how to help you. I should have done better.’
Fitz was stunned. Not only at Camilla’s candid confession but at her own emotions – one of understanding and love. Something she never thought she’d ever feel for her stepmother. Without thinking, she rushed over to Camilla, who rose to her feet. They hesitated and then both hugged each other at the same time.
The years of misunderstanding, confusion and tension was squeezed out of them, to be replaced by this deeply buried love they hadn’t realised they had for one another.