Chapter Fifteen #3
The following morning dawns with bright sunshine.
The rain has washed the sky to a dazzling blue and the woolly white clouds that trundle beneath it are as clean as freshly soaped sheep.
The three of us breakfast together bathed in the light that streams in through the big window.
The servants have returned to their posts and the house is buzzing with activity again.
We discuss the day ahead. Lavinia has to work.
Nessa, I discover, has no occupation. Those who don’t have other commitments will be rehearsing at the theatre all day.
I tell them that I have a meeting at ten, so Nessa says she’ll head over to the theatre alone.
She’s in a very good mood, almost too good.
She has a kind of alertness and vigour that suggests to me that she’s up to something that’s giving her a thrill.
I’ll go straight to the theatre after meeting Sylvia so I can keep an eye on her.
I have found Betty’s on the map. It’s on the other side of town, a good twenty-minute walk from Eddie’s house.
I set off at half-nine, in a yellow floral dress with a matching yellow jacket, scarf and hat.
My stomach is an ant nest of nerves. I don’t know what Sylvia looks like.
I’m not even sure who she is. I intend to arrive early, so that she has to come to my table; that way I won’t embarrass myself by not recognising her.
The café is a small, unimpressive place.
The kind of venue frequented by locals and not by tourists who want something more picturesque.
It’s very clear that Sylvia doesn’t want to be seen with Eddie.
Is she hiding from her husband, Nessa or people in general?
I’m curious as to her motives, but anxious about how I’m going to find out, when I have no idea how much Eddie already knows.
If Sylvia is, indeed, her sister, Eddie will already know a great deal.
I open the door and step into a fug of smoke.
I’m assaulted too by the savoury smell of fried eggs and bacon.
It makes my eyes water. There are about ten wooden tables placed on aged pine floorboards.
Only a few of them are occupied; a quartet of bearded fishermen puff on pipes and cigarettes; a trio of elderly women drink tea and gossip quietly; a young couple nervously hold hands across the table.
The young woman is blushing. The counter runs along the right-hand side of the room, displaying pastries and cakes, and a pair of women in white aprons work behind it.
I take a table at the back and order a cup of tea from one of the waitresses who wanders over the moment I’ve sat down.
She brings a teapot and pours what looks like dirty water into a cup.
I don’t dare take a sip. I know I’m not going to like it.
I don’t have to wait long for my mystery date.
The door opens and I recognise Sylvia at once.
Pretty with curly brown hair pinned up beneath an elegant green hat, she bears a strong resemblance to Eddie, although, unlike her sister, she is caked in make-up.
She smiles when she sees me and comes straight over.
She greets me with a brisk, ‘Hello, Edwina,’ and takes off her green coat and drapes it over the back of the chair.
She sits down with a sigh. ‘This feels very clandestine, doesn’t it?
’ she says with a chuckle. ‘You’re probably wondering why I chose to meet here, of all the places.
Well, I’ll fill you in.’ She looks into my cup.
‘What are you having? Tea? Hmmm, that doesn’t look very nice, does it?
’ The waitress comes over with the coffee pot.
‘I’ll have a hot chocolate, please,’ says Silvia.
‘And a scone. I’m ravenous. You?’ She puts her handbag on the table and reaches in.
After rummaging about, she brings out a silver cigarette case and flicks it open with a burgundy talon. ‘You’re not going to eat anything?’
‘I had breakfast,’ I reply.
‘So did I. But, as you know, I have the appetite of a horse.’
One wouldn’t know that by looking at her slim figure. Must be the smoking that keeps her so thin.
Sylvia has the jittery, nervous energy of a very highly strung woman.
I wonder whether she was always like that, or whether it’s a result of being married to Humphrey.
It’s impossible to know, of course, and perhaps much too easy to blame the man.
Maybe she was just born that way. I decide to let her chatter on.
Fortunately, that seems to be their dynamic, because Sylvia barely gives Eddie a chance to speak.
She uses a cigarette holder, which seems to be the must-have accessory, and takes a drag, blowing the smoke out the side of her mouth.
‘I don’t need to tell you that I’ve come about Nessa.
’ She shakes her head and rolls her bottle-green eyes.
‘Nessa, Nessa, Nessa! Ever since she was a little girl, she’s been problematic.
I dare say nothing is likely to change. But if anyone can talk sense into her, it’s you, Edwina.
I’m pinning my hopes on you, for Nessa’s sake, for her future. ’
My heart sinks at those words, because Nessa doesn’t have a future. She has just over two days left before her life will end. I put my hands on the table and lean forward to listen, because Sylvia might hold the key that will unlock the door and allow Nessa to step into her eternal future.