Four Funerals and Maybe a Wedding Page 14

  He swallowed hard. I watched his Adam’s apple dance up and down above his stiff collar. “That will not be necessary, my lady. I shall ensure, personally, that food is up to your standard.”

  “Thank you, Plunkett. That will be all.”

  I watched him walk away. Mummy was used to getting her own way. I wondered if she’d have more success with him than I had had so far.

  Two women from the village appeared with lots of clanking of buckets and mops, and the bedrooms in my wing were given a good cleaning. I selected the one overlooking the forecourt and drive for my mother and inspected as they made up a big brass bed for her. She wouldn’t be arriving until the next morning, as there were things she still had to do in London, including collecting shoes from her little Italian shoemaker. I wondered about all the wedding and trousseau outfits she had ordered. Poor Mummy. I think she was looking forward to the security of being married to a very rich man, even if he was German and in league with Nazis.

  * * *

  THAT AFTERNOON I went into the gardens to pick flowers for Mummy’s room. I had Joanie put them into vases and carry them up; then I stood looking around, making sure it was suitable for a former duchess and a very picky lady. While I was up there I heard footsteps on the gravel. I looked out of the window and saw a rather distinguished-looking elderly man walking up toward the house. The day was now a warm one. The sky was clear and in spite of this he was carrying an umbrella. He was wearing a dark three-piece suit and a bowler hat. Halfway up the drive he paused to take out a handkerchief, remove the hat and pat that bald head before disappearing from my view as he approached the front door. I heard the doorbell ring. I waited, trying to suppress my curiosity, but Plunkett didn’t appear to summon me. I plumped pillows on Mummy’s bed and made sure there were no spiderwebs at the back of her wardrobe, all the time wondering who the man was and why I was not being called. Of course I realized that the caller was probably not for me. Only a few people knew I was living here now. But should I not be at least greeting any visitor to the house?

  When I finally went downstairs Joanie was hovering in the front hall, dusting statues. “Oh, there you are, my lady,” she said. “Would you like to take your tea out on the lawn today? Mr. Plunkett thought it might be a nice idea. We’ve put out a table and deck chair. Under the big beech tree.”

  “Thank you. That would lovely,” I said. “But where is Mr. Plunkett? And where is the visitor who arrived recently?”

  “I didn’t see any visitor, my lady,” she said.

  “A man came to the house. The front doorbell rang.”

  “I’m sorry. I was at the back of the house, cleaning the rooms we hadn’t touched yet. Mr. Plunkett said that the duchess would want everything just so.”

  I went through to the drawing room, but it was unoccupied. I tried the morning room and the library. Finally in frustration I rang the bell. After a long wait Plunkett appeared. “You rang, my lady?”

  “I did, Plunkett. I wanted to know about the visitor. Where is he?”

  “The gentleman came for Lady Anstruther, my lady. Apparently wanting to appraise her jewelry or something. I told him she wasn’t up to seeing visitors. He was a bit put out, having come all this way. She must have written to him in one of her more lucid moments.”

  “So where is he now?”

  “He left again in a huff,” Plunkett said. “I offered him a cup of tea but he wouldn’t stay. Said he had more important calls to make in the neighborhood.”

  “So why was he not taken to Lady Anstruther?” I said. “Surely it was not up to you to decide whether she was up to receiving visitors or not.”

  “You haven’t met her yet, my lady,” he said. “The gentleman would have been shocked. And she doesn’t like men, which is why I try to stay well away from her room. She can be . . . well, you’ll probably see for yourself.”

  “At the very least you should have notified me if we had a visitor to the house, Plunkett,” I said. “As current mistress of the place it would only be right that I should greet him.”

  “He didn’t stay long enough for that. When he heard he couldn’t see the old lady he didn’t even want to come in and sit down. He said he had important calls to make while he was in this part of the world.”

  Joanie appeared then to tell me that my tea was ready under the beech tree. This time there was a decent pot of tea and cucumber sandwiches. We were improving.

  * * *

  IT WAS CLOSE to nine o’clock that evening when Plunkett came to announce that Lady Anstruther was now expecting a visit from me.

  “She seems quite calm at the moment, her nurse tells me,” he said, “but she can be volatile. Be prepared to duck. She throws things.”

  Golly.

  I took a deep breath as I followed Plunkett through the great gallery between the wings and turned toward the room she was occupying.

  “I forgot to ask you.” Plunkett stopped short in the dark hallway. “How are you with birds?”

  “With birds?” It came out as a squeak.

  “Lady Plunkett keeps birds,” he said. “Parrots. That sort of thing. Very fond of birds, she is.”

  “Oh, I don’t mind birds,” I said. “I like all sorts of animals.”

  “That’s good. Then you won’t be alarmed.” He went ahead of me and tapped on the door at the far end of the hall. It was opened by a woman dressed in a nurse’s gray uniform. “Come on in,” she said. The door was shut behind me. I noticed Plunkett had not followed me into the room.

  The drapes were shut and the room was lit only by a couple of standard lamps in corners so that there were areas of deep shadow. There was an unpleasant smell that I couldn’t quite identify. I felt a shiver of alarm as a figure rose from a high-backed chair and came toward me. She was all in black with a black shawl, trimmed with jet beads, over her head. Her face, in the deep shadow of the room, looked like a skeleton. She was wearing too much makeup, her mouth a bright red gash, not applied with much skill, and her cheeks white with powder.

  “Who is this?” she asked, tilting her head to one side, like a bird herself. “What’s she doing here?”

  “This is Lady Georgiana,” the nurse said in a gentle voice. “She used to live here when she was a small girl. You might remember her.”

  “I don’t remember her. She’s an interloper,” the old woman said. She spoke in a hoarse whisper. Then she sighed. “I don’t remember anything. It’s all a fog.”

  Then suddenly there was a flapping sound and a bird came flying across the room. A large bird. In the half-darkness it looked like the size of an eagle. Without warning it landed on my head.

  “Oh, Charlie likes you,” the old lady said, chuckling now. “He doesn’t take to everybody.”

  I could feel the claws digging into my scalp.

  “Who’s a pretty boy now?” said a voice on my head. “Give Charlie a treat.”

  “Stand very still,” the old lady said. “Any sudden move might frighten him.”

  Might frighten him? I thought. I’m standing here with a large bird on my head. I wondered how I could tactfully ask her to call him off, then realized it was probably a test of whether she liked me or not.

  “Well, girl?” she said, peering at me now. “Cat got your tongue?”

  “How do you do, Lady Anstruther,” I said. “I’m Georgiana. I trust you are well?”

  “Of course I’m not well, stupid girl,” she said. “I’m eighty-five years old and I have rheumatism, my digestion is terrible and I have a constant headache.”

  I wasn’t surprised, if large birds constantly landed on her head!

  There was another sound of fluttering and a small yellow bird, a parakeet, I believe, flew around the room a few times; then the old lady stretched out a hand, bedecked with multiple rings, and the bird landed on it.

  “Hello, my precious. Were you feeling left out?” she whispered to the bird, then brought it up to her mouth to give it a kiss.

  Charlie, still on my head, danced up and down and gave a piercing laugh/shriek that nearly made my heart stop. “Give Charlie a kiss. Give Charlie a kiss!” he shrieked.

  “So jealous.” She chuckled again. “He can’t stand it when I make a fuss of Rani.” She held out her arm and the bird ran up to her shoulder. “I call her Rani after my time in India. I was Empress of India once, you know. There was a mutiny and they deposed me. I barely escaped with my life.”

  “You were never Empress of India. Your husband was in the army in India once; that’s why you were there, remember?” the nurse said.

  “Don’t contradict me!” the old woman snapped. “I know who I was. I do remember some things. But I don’t remember that girl. What is she doing here? She’s come from the institution, hasn’t she? Come to take me back?”

  “No, Lady Anstruther,” I said. “I haven’t come from the home.”

  “Because I won’t go back, you know. I won’t. I’ll throw myself from the battlements first.” She reached out a hand to the nurse, who stood ready to aid her. “It was terrible,” she said. “Everyone there was insane. My son put me there, with crazy people. And I’m not mad. I’m as sane as anyone.”

  “Yes, of course you are, Lady Anstruther,” the nurse said. “Now, why don’t you sit down and let’s take Charlie off this poor lady’s head.”

  “He likes her,” she said. “He doesn’t take to everyone. He pecked nearly all the inmates at the asylum. He can give a vicious peck when he’s angry.”

  I had visions of my scalp being attacked. Strangely enough he wasn’t that heavy, but his claws were certainly sharp.

  The nurse eased the old lady back into the chair.

  “So what’s she doing here?” she asked, pointing a finger at me. “If you tell me she hasn’t come from the asylum, what does she want?”

  “I’ve come to live here, Lady Anstruther,” I said. “Your son invited me to make this my home, as he is away so much. He was very fond of me when I was a little girl. He wanted to adopt me.”

  “Rubbish,” she said. “Utter nonsense. My son didn’t go around adopting orphans.”

  “I wasn’t an orphan,” I said. “My mother was married to your son at the time.”

  “Utter lies. I don’t remember you!” She pointed a finger again. “I know what you want. You’ve come to steal my home, haven’t you? Come to throw me out into the cold? Or to send me back there!”

  She stood up again suddenly, making me take an involuntary step back and causing Charlie to dig his claws into my hair.

  “No, really, Lady Anstruther. You are quite safe here, I promise,” I said hastily, as I sensed she might advance on me.

  She grabbed a silver-tipped cane and waved it in my direction. “Send her away, do you hear me? I don’t want her in my house any longer. She’s a scheming vixen, I can tell. Send her away!” And without warning she picked up an ashtray from the table and hurled it in my direction. Luckily her aim wasn’t very good. It crashed onto the floor beside me and shattered into a thousand pieces. Charlie flapped and took off from my head, taking some of my hair with him. As she looked for another object to hurl, the nurse stepped between us. “I think you had better go, while the going is good, your ladyship,” she said. “She gets quite violent when she’s riled up.”

  I didn’t need to be told twice. What with birds and hurling ashtrays I had had quite enough.

  Chapter 19

  SATURDAY, JUNE 29

  EYNSLEIGH

  Mummy comes today. Normally I am not thrilled to see her, but this time I can’t wait. Having someone else in the house will make all the difference. Crikey, Sir Hubert’s mother was rather frightening. No wonder he wanted her put in a home. I think I should write to the British consul in Buenos Aires and ask him to trace Sir Hubert. I think he’d want to know about his mother. If she were confined to her room, that would be one thing, but I’ve already caught her wandering around once, and my gas tap was turned on . . .

  I must have jinxed the fine weather by sitting out sunning myself on the lawn yesterday, because I awoke to an absolute deluge. Poor Mummy, I thought, having to travel in this weather. Everything seemed to be going wrong in her life at the moment. I lingered on this thought. What if she and Max did not reunite? What if she wanted to live with us permanently? I knew it was a big house and she could have a suite of rooms, but did I want her hovering during the first year of my marriage? Then I told myself that my mother was not likely to stay unattached for long. She liked men too much. To be frank, she liked sex too much. She’d latch on to some poor, unsuspecting banker or American millionaire or South American polo player and she’d be off again, quite happy, Max quite forgotten. Thus reassured, I went down to breakfast. Again it was scrambled eggs. I rang for Fernando.

  “My mother, the Duchess of Rannoch, is arriving today, Fernando. She is used to the highest standards. She has been staying at Claridge’s. She has a villa in Nice, and another on Lake Lugano, and she has been living in Berlin. Nursery food will not be good enough for her. Do you understand?”

  “If she live all over Europa, she like good Continental food, not boring English food,” he said. “I make for her.”

  “That’s just it,” I said. “She likes good Continental food. Things like caviar. Now, I know we are on a budget, but I expect you to do your best. You would not want to see my mother when she is not happy.”

  I told him to make sure there were plenty of strawberries and raspberries and that he should buy cream and a decent piece of meat for dinner. He didn’t look at all keen at having to ride into town on his bicycle, so I took pity and telephoned the local butcher to have them deliver meat.

  “Pork chops would be acceptable,” I said. “And maybe a leg of lamb.”

  “You don’t want the usual rump steak then?” he asked.

  “Oh yes. Definitely rump steak,” I said. I put the receiver down thoughtfully. So Lady Anstruther, and/or the staff, was eating rump steak while I had bits of unidentifiable scraps in rice. This was coming to an end right now. If she was, as Plunkett put it so succinctly, off with the fairies, then she wasn’t getting any more special treatment.

  I waited for Mummy all morning, occasionally glancing out of the window as I sat in the drawing room. I spotted one of the gardeners, looking quite miserable as he pushed a wheelbarrow, making heavy weather of the mud. At least they were finally doing some work. That was good. Lunchtime came and I went through to the dining room. It was fish again, this time covered in a tomato sauce. It wasn’t too bad, actually, and it was followed by strawberries. I realized then that the gardener had probably been coming up to the house to deliver produce and felt rather guilty about making him work in the rain.

  I was halfway through my strawberries when I heard the doorbell. I wanted to jump up but protocol demanded that I stay put until my butler announced the visitor. I expected Mummy to sweep past him and burst into the room, shouting, “Darling, I’m here.”

  When this didn’t happen I was curious. Another visitor for the old lady, perhaps? Then Plunkett appeared. “There is a person to see you, my lady.”

  I didn’t think that anyone in his right mind could describe my mother as a person.

  “What sort of person, Plunkett?”

  “A rather common person, my lady. Looks like a drowned rat. I would have sent her away but she says you were expecting her. She says she came as quickly as she could.”

  I jumped up and forced myself not to run to the foyer. Queenie was standing there in a puddle of water, looking indeed like a drowned rat.

  “Watcher, miss,” she said. “Blimey, it ain’t half wet.”

  “Queenie. You came.” I beamed at her.

  “Well, I thought it sounded like you needed me, and Lady Whyte said that my first duty was to you. So I said Bob’s yer uncle and here I am.”

  “Did you walk all the way from the station?” She looked so pathetic standing there, water running down her face and dripping from her sodden clothes onto the floor.

  “Oh no, miss. I hitched a ride with a baker’s wagon. But he dropped me at the gate and it ain’t half a long way up the drive.”

  “Yes, it is,” I said. “We must get you into dry clothes and give you something warm to drink.”

  I turned to Plunkett. “This is my maid, Queenie,” I said. “She’s come all the way from Ireland to help out. Please find a bedroom for her where she can change her clothes and then take her down to the kitchen for a cup of tea.”

  “Very good, my lady.” Plunkett looked at Queenie with distaste. “If you’ll come this way. I’m Plunkett, the butler, and you’ll be reporting to me. In future you will use the servants’ entrance at the back of the house on the lower level, is that clear?”

  “Bob’s yer uncle, ducks,” she said.

  I watched her following him down the hall, leaving a trail of drips behind her. I don’t think I’ve ever been happier to see anyone.

  * * *

  WHEN QUEENIE HAD changed I took her to meet Fernando. “This young lady will be assisting you with the cooking from now on,” I said. “She knows what I like to eat.”

  Then I retreated and left them to it. A little later I heard raised voices coming from the kitchen. I knew it would be the butler’s job to go and see what was happening, but I’m afraid I couldn’t resist.

  “What the bloody hell do you call this?” Queenie was saying. “This ain’t no cup of tea. This is bleedin’ dishwater. And where are the cakes and biscuits? What have you been feeding my lady—mouse droppings?”

  I stood, unnoticed, in the doorway.

  “Go on, bugger off,” she said, giving him a hefty shove. “I’m going to make a decent pot of tea. And then I’ll want plenty of butter and flour and I’m going to whip up a batch of shortbread.”