What Happens In Tuscany...

Her reminiscing was interrupted by what could have been an expletive from the driver and a shower of feathers in the air. As she looked on, Mr Mackintosh eased the vast vehicle into the side of the road and engaged a huge handbrake. The engine subsided to a throaty rumble. He walked round to the front of the car and reached down. Seconds later, he emerged with a twitching pheasant in his gloved hand. It was a fine-looking cock pheasant, or at least it had been before it hit the radiator of their car. He wrung its neck expertly to put an end to its suffering and lobbed it into the undergrowth. Katie grimaced. As he returned to the driver’s door, he felt obliged to offer an explanation.

‘I apologise for that, Miss. With animals, as with human beings, so often the beautiful ones are the stupidest. It’s not even as if we were going at any great speed. I trust you were not disturbed by the incident.’ Katie removed a handful of chestnut-coloured feathers from her hair and assured him that she was quite all right. Taking advantage of the relative silence, she asked how long it would take to get to Iddlescombe. He glanced down at the clock set into the walnut dashboard. ‘Not too long, Miss. We’re into the Iddlescombe Valley now. It’s about another six or seven miles to the great house. In this huge old thing that probably means about twenty minutes. If we were in one of Sir Algernon’s sportier models, we could probably make it in ten.’

‘Sir Algernon?’ Katie hadn’t heard his name before. At the interview, Mr Evergreen had spoken of Miss Victoria, but had not mentioned a man’s name.

The driver’s face became more sombre. ‘Sir Algernon Chalker-Pyne, Miss. Alas, Sir Algernon passed away in the spring. There’s just his daughter, Victoria, left in the house now.’ He glanced down at the car and ran an appreciative hand over the faultless bodywork. ‘He liked his cars, did Sir Algernon. He had a fine collection of them. Miss Victoria knows that and she has asked me to ensure they’re all kept in working order. That’s why we’re in the Hispano-Suiza today. I can only take this one out when there’s no chance of rain in the forecast.’ He opened the driver’s door and was about to climb back in when Katie asked the question she had been dying to ask ever since reading the advert in The Lady.

‘Please, Mr Mackintosh, what’s Miss Victoria like?’ Mr Evergreen had given little away at the interview. In fact, he had been much more interested in finding out as much as he could about Katie and her parents. It turned out that he was familiar with her father’s law firm and she had no doubt that that had greatly helped her chances. But he had said little about what or who awaited her.

She was reassured to see a smile cross Mr Mackintosh’s face. She realised that he was probably not quite as old as she had assumed at first sight. ‘She’s a fine young lady who’s had an unusual life, Miss. We all like her very much and I’m sure you’ll find her a kind and fair employer.’ He hazarded a question in his turn. ‘You are to be her companion, I believe. Is that correct?’

‘That’s right, Mr Mackintosh. It’s all happened so quickly. I only applied for the job last week. It’s all been a bit of a blur.’ And it had been. The offer of the job and, amazingly, the details of a salary that made even Martin, the lawyer, sit up and take notice, had arrived by special delivery the next day. As they had all agreed, whatever or whoever might be waiting for her at Iddlescombe Manor, this was too good an opportunity to miss. She had replied that she would be happy to accept and had had little time to do more than pack her bags. Apart, of course, from the couple of times she had been with Martin.

As the car resumed its way up the increasingly narrow lane towards their destination, Katie did her best not to let her thoughts dwell on what Mackintosh might have meant by his use of the word “unusual” when describing Miss Victoria’s background. She would find out very soon. She sat back and allowed herself a few more warm memories. Upon their return from London she had insisted on taking Martin down to one of the pubs by the river for a drink. This had extended into several drinks, food and a long chat. As the sun set over the water, she had learnt more about this kind, friendly and good-looking man. By the end of the evening she was seriously considering following Jenny’s advice and saddling him up. Only the bitter memory of the last disheartening months of her festering relationship with Dean and her resolve to concentrate on achieving financial independence stopped her from doing more than kissing him goodnight. Although, she thought happily to herself as the big car swung round a particularly sharp corner, it had been a very good kiss.

Katie didn’t really have experience of many men. There had been that first time with her friend Melanie’s brother, after both of them had consumed potentially liver-crippling quantities of cider. Her memory of the event was mercifully very hazy, but she remembered enough to know that the earth had not moved for her, at least until she started throwing up. There had been a few short-lived affairs at university and then, of course, for the last seven years, there had been Dean. She had only exchanged a few emails with him since the break-up, and if she never heard from him again, that would be just fine with her.

She shook her head to clear it and returned her thoughts to her rugby-playing solicitor. As the big car snaked in and out among the dense undergrowth of rhododendron bushes beneath the canopy of ancient trees, she knew she was looking forward to seeing Martin again. The fact that every minute took her further away from him made this all the more unlikely.

‘There’s the great house up there, Miss.’ She was brought back to the present by the voice of Mr Mackintosh. He extended an arm out in front of him as the woodland gave way to open pastures. There, in the distance, set at the edge of a lake, was one of the most wonderful houses she had ever seen. As they drove towards it, faster now as the road straightened out and widened, she saw the absolute perfection of its design, a triumph of columns, arches and extravagant statuary. It was quite enormous and surrounded by magnificent gardens.

The estate appeared to be ringed by a high stone wall that disappeared off into the distance either side of a lodge house that guarded the fine wrought iron gates. Mr Mackintosh hooted the wonderful old klaxon with his gloved hand and seconds later a figure limped out of the lodge and unlocked the gates. As they swept through, Katie saw that the gatekeeper was an old man, bald apart from an edging of straggly white hair around his shiny pate. He raised his fingers to his temple in salute and she found herself waving back like royalty.

There was a vibration from the tyres as they crossed a cattle grid and entered the parkland. A fine selection of specimen trees dotted the fields and Katie soon realised that the animals sheltering in the shade beneath their branches were deer. It was a magnificent scene, like something out of a Gainsborough or Constable painting. A drumming noise drew her attention. She looked around and saw that they were being followed by a figure on horseback. As she watched, the galloping horse drew near and then overtook them. The rider peeled off in the direction of the house before Katie could get a clear look at her. She registered that is was a female figure, dressed in impeccable white breeches and shiny black boots, but she and the horse quickly disappeared from sight. The car followed the avenue as it weaved between the ancient trees. By the time the big vehicle crunched across the gravel in front of the house, there was no sign of the horse or its rider.

‘Was that Miss Victoria?’ Katie looked up at Mr Mackintosh as he jumped out to open the door for her. He nodded briefly.

‘Yes, Miss. I imagine she’s gone round to the stable yard with Thumper.’

‘That’s the name of her horse?’

‘That’s the name of the horse she was riding this afternoon. She has a string of horses to suit her mood.’

‘Does she have a lot of different moods?’ There was a pause before Mr Mackintosh risked a response.

‘She has not had an easy life, Miss, in spite of all this.’ He waved a gloved hand in the general direction of the manor house. ‘I’m sure she will tell you herself.’

Katie climbed out and went round to retrieve her luggage, but Mackintosh had preceded her. ‘That’s all right, Miss. I’ll see that these go up to your room. Here’s Mrs Milliner. She’ll look after you.’

A maternal-looking woman who could have been mid-fifties, or maybe a shade older, appeared from the main door of the house and made her way nimbly down the steps towards them. She nodded approvingly as she saw Mr Mackintosh with Katie’s bags and gave him his instructions. ‘The young lady will be in the Green Room. If you would be so kind, Mr Mackintosh…’

He grunted assent and headed for the house. Mrs Milliner turned her attention to Katie, who was feeling a bit overwhelmed by the sheer scale of the place and the formality of the staff members. As Mrs Milliner extended her hand towards her, she felt quite apprehensive. The handshake, however, was gentle and an equally gentle smile spread across the woman’s face. ‘Welcome to Iddlescombe Manor, Miss Parr. I’m Mrs Milliner.’ She supplied no details of her job description but Katie had definitely got the impression by now that Mrs Milliner was in charge. She did her best to reply in a strong voice.

‘Good afternoon, Mrs Milliner. My name is Katherine, but everybody calls me Katie.’

‘Very good, Miss Katie. Now, if you would like to come along with me, I’ll show you to your room.’ Katie walked with her up the front steps. Two massive stone lions guarded the doors, which were a masterpiece of elaborate carving. A fine brass letterbox was set into the woodwork, shining brightly as only regularly polished brass can do. A massive metal rod and handle hung down to one side of the doors, presumably to act as the doorbell. Mrs Milliner stood to one side and motioned Katie inside.

The entrance hall and the monumental staircase were awe-inspiring, studded with fine oil paintings and stags’ heads bristling with antlers. The corridor leading to her room was wider than the lane leading up the valley to the house and, beneath the thick strip of carpet, the broad wooden floorboards creaked as they walked along. Mrs Milliner accompanied her along the corridor without comment, and Katie began to feel more and more nervous. There was no sign of Miss Victoria. Maybe she was changing after her ride. As they reached the room, Katie summoned up the courage to attempt conversation.

‘Is Miss Victoria’s room along here as well?’

Mrs Milliner’s reply was friendly enough. ‘Yes, indeed. I’m sure she’ll show you round herself this evening. Dinner will be served at seven o’clock.’ She turned the handle and pushed the door open. Stepping back, she ushered Katie into a massive room. ‘Your bathroom is through that door over there and your dressing room is beyond the arch on the other side of the bed.’ Katie had never had a dressing room before and wasn’t totally sure what it was used for. Surely you didn’t need a whole room just to get dressed? The bed itself was an enormous wooden structure, the size of a couple of table tennis tables. Two windows looked straight out over the park and gardens. It was a remarkable place with a remarkable view.

‘How absolutely lovely, Mrs Milliner. What a room!’ The awe in Katie’s voice was clear to hear. ‘Are all the rooms here as luxurious as this?’

Mrs Milliner paused for thought before replying. ‘All the principal bedrooms, yes. There are twelve of those. The other bedrooms are maybe a little smaller, but they’re all of a similar style.’

‘So do many people live in the house?’

‘Only Miss Victoria, myself and a couple of maids. And now, of course, you too.’

‘Only five of us in this huge place?’ Katie could hardly believe it. Mrs Milliner gave her another little smile.

‘Yes, Miss Katie, just the five of us. Somehow, I don’t think you’ll be feeling crowded here. Now, if you would excuse me, I have to see that dinner is coming along well. I’ll get one of the girls to bring you up a pot of tea.’

Katie protested weakly, but to no avail. Five minutes later there was a tap on the door. Before Katie could get across to open it, the handle turned and a ginger-haired woman in a black uniform and crisp white apron brought in a tray.

‘Tea, Miss Katie?’

The “girl” was probably five or ten years older than Katie, who was beginning to get a bit fed up with the constant addition of “Miss” to her name. ‘Just “Katie” is fine. There’s no need for the “Miss”. What’s your name?’

‘Rosie, Mis…Katie.’ The maid was busy unloading a silver teapot, milk jug, plates, biscuits and a huge slice of what looked suspiciously like freshly-made sponge cake. Finally Rosie deposited the last item and straightened up. ‘If there’s anything else you require, just press the bell by your bedside.’ She extended a finger towards a large enamel knob protruding from the wall. Like the letterbox, the surround was solid, well-polished brass. By the time Katie had registered the existence of the button, the maid had slipped silently out of the room. Katie checked the time on her phone against the hands of the exquisite old clock on the mantelpiece. It was almost six.

There was another tap on the door. This time she made it across to the handle before it turned. It was Mr Mackintosh with her bags. He brought them in and set them on a low bench designed for luggage.

‘Will there be anything else, Miss?’

Katie shook her head, thanked him, and he withdrew.

Over the next hour she unpacked her things, showered and changed. She kept on checking the time on her phone until it was one minute to seven. She stood up and ran her hands down her sides, glancing at her reflection in the enormous floor to ceiling mirror. She had changed into the most formal skirt she had brought and was feeling rather conspicuous. She was also feeling really quite nervous.

She put her phone down on the table and prepared to go downstairs for dinner. Apart from telling the time, the phone was quite useless here. There appeared to be no mobile signal and no internet connection. She took a deep breath and went out into the corridor and along to the massive staircase. As she walked down the last few steps into the hall, Rosie appeared as if by magic and led her to the dining room. The door was already open and Miss Victoria was standing by the empty fireplace.

Katie stopped on the threshold and studied the scene. Her first reaction was one of surprise, accompanied by relief. Miss Victoria, far from being an elderly lady, was probably about the same age as she was. She hurried across to meet her new employer, whose hand was already extended in her direction.

‘Good evening. You are Katherine Parr?’ Miss Victoria sounded friendly, if a bit formal. Her accent would not have sounded out of place in Buckingham Palace or Made in Chelsea. As if reading Katie’s mind, she added, ‘And do you have royal lineage?’ She was smiling broadly now. Katie had had this remark made about her name often enough to recognise it.

‘I’m very pleased to meet you, Miss Victoria. And I’m Katherine Parr with a “K”, not a “C”. I’m not the reincarnation of Henry VIII’s last wife. Anyway, everybody calls me Katie.’

‘Well, I’m very pleased to meet you, Katie. Please can you call me just plain Victoria. I’m afraid my father insisted everybody should call me Miss Victoria all my life and I can’t seem to get them to change. Isn’t that so, Rosie?’

‘Yes, indeed, Miss Victoria.’ The maid’s face was expressionless.

Katie smiled and took a better look at Victoria. She looked four or five years younger than her, probably in her mid-twenties, tall and slim, with light brown hair piled up on her head in formal manner, revealing a pair of earrings. If the diamonds set in them were real, they were worth a fortune. Katie reflected that if they were false, they were the first fake she had seen all day. The clothes she was wearing were elegant, if dated. Her blouse was unmistakably silk, a delicate cream colour, and she was wearing a dark blue skirt that just covered her knees. On her feet she wore flat leather shoes. Instinctively Katie tugged her own skirt down as far as she could, but her knees were still visible. She rather regretted her choice of sandals now.

‘I hope you had a good journey here and that your room is satisfactory to your requirements.’ Katie found it hard to reconcile Victoria’s formal, rather antiquated, language with a girl of that age. It sounded weird and slightly ridiculous. She did her best to reply equally politely.

‘Yes, thank you very much. The room is great and everybody has been so very helpful. And I did enjoy my ride in that fantastic big white car. It was an awesome experience.’

‘Awesome? You can use that?’ Victoria repeated the word as if hearing it for the first time. ‘An awesome experience.’ She caught Katie’s eye and smiled a warm, genuine smile. ‘I think I shall use the word awesome myself. You see,’ she was still smiling, ‘I’ve got so much to learn. Anyway, you’ll work that out for yourself, I’m sure. Now, I asked Mrs Milliner to put out a bottle of champagne. Is that to your liking?’

‘I adore champagne, thank you. I’m afraid I haven’t had any for quite a while now. Normally I have to wait until one of my friends gets married.’ Something must have shown on her face. As Victoria waved to Rosie to pour the champagne, she gave Katie a gentle smile.

‘Mr Evergreen told me you had just separated from your husband. I’m very sorry.’

Katie took the glass of champagne that was handed to her and resisted the temptation to drain it in one. ‘Thank you, Victoria. We weren’t married, so it’s not a proper divorce, but we were together for seven years.’

‘Living in sin is the expression, isn’t it? Or is there something more modern?’

‘I think the technical legal term is cohabiting, but we just used to say we were living together. Living in sin is a bit old-fashioned nowadays.’ Katie was indeed beginning to get a taste of what awaited her. Somehow, this young woman acted and sounded like a Jane Austen character. She took a deep breath and raised her glass. ‘Thank you for your marvellous hospitality. Cheers.’ They clinked their glasses together and Katie did her best to follow Victoria’s example and just take a delicate sip of the wine. It, too, was amazing.

‘I hope you like the champagne. It’s only five years old but my father told me that this was a particularly good year. Une année royale.’

Katie noticed her excellent pronunciation. ‘It’s wonderful, thank you.’

‘Awesome? Could I say that?’

Katie smiled back at her. ‘You certainly could.’

Chapter Three

The next few days were a voyage of discovery for Katie. Rather than a hired employee, she felt more like an honoured guest. The house itself was as remarkable inside as it was on the outside. Victoria gave her a guided tour of a never-ending succession of magnificently decorated and furnished rooms until Katie had totally lost her bearings. There was a ballroom, a billiard room, a dedicated sewing room and even an observatory cleverly set into the roof. The kitchen was huge, dominated by the most enormous range cooker Katie had ever seen. Even the larder was about twice the size of her old bedroom. Upstairs here, the bedroom she had been given was bigger than the whole of her old flat. It was quite enormous, with its own private bathroom and a view out of the two huge windows across the lake, the wooded island in the middle of it and as far as the hills of Exmoor in the far distance. There was no doubt in Katie’s mind; Iddlescombe Manor was quite phenomenal.

At the same time, there were, inevitably, a number of disadvantages to living in the great house. In particular, as Katie had already discovered, there was no mobile phone reception and, worse still, no internet connection. In fact, there was no sign of a computer in the whole place. Although Victoria invited her to use the landline whenever she wanted, she only made a short call to her parents. What she really wanted to do was to call Jenny, to recount the wonders of this amazing place and to describe the unique person for whom she was now working. She had to admit that it would also be rather nice to call Martin to see how he was and just to chat to him, but she could hardly do that from the venerable Bakelite telephone in the study with Victoria standing by.

Otherwise, as far as she could work out, the only other telephone was in the kitchen, under the watchful eye and curious ears of Mrs Milliner. Mrs Milliner was the housekeeper, cook and butler, and clearly responsible for the daily running of the household. She was kind and friendly, but there was no way Katie could have the sort of cosy chat she wanted with Jenny or Martin under these circumstances. After two days, Katie resorted to snail mail and wrote a long and fairly incoherent letter to Jenny, which was taken by Mr Mackintosh to the post box at the station in Nymptonford.

But, above all, what Katie found truly fascinating was her young employer. As the days passed, Katie slowly began to build up a clearer picture of Victoria’s background. It was bizarre, to say the least. Gradually, as they got to know and trust each other, Victoria added more flesh to the bones of her past.

One of Victoria’s favourite places, Katie soon discovered, was the boathouse down by the lake. While the July weather stayed fine, the two girls got into the habit of going there most afternoons. It was down here, more than anywhere else, that Victoria felt most relaxed and most willing to talk.

‘My mother died when I was ten.’ In answer to something she read in Katie’s face, she explained. ‘They were both involved in a car accident, on the corniche above Monaco, not far from where Princess Grace died. Father survived, but he spent ages in intensive care in Monte Carlo before they let him travel home. He had received a massive blow to the head in the crash and he was never the same again. Ask Mrs Milliner. She knew him before the accident. His behaviour became very peculiar. Above all, he became increasingly,’ she looked across at Katie, ‘some would say, obsessively, concerned for my security.’

‘You weren’t with them?’

‘No.’ Victoria raised her eyebrows as if that were the most ridiculous idea. ‘Me travel abroad? I hardly ever left Iddlescombe. Do you know something?’ Katie caught a look of great sadness in her eyes. ‘I sometimes used to think I was in a prison here. All right, it was a very comfortable, spacious prison, but a prison all the same.’

‘You mean he kept you locked up here?’ Katie was appalled.

Now, along with the sadness, there was a spark of anger in Victoria’s eyes. ‘Not in so many words, but in effect yes, I was a prisoner here. You know, Katie, I never went to school or university.’ She was gripping the armrest of her deckchair so tightly that Katie could see her wrist shaking with the tension. She reached across and laid a calming hand upon Victoria’s and felt her fingers slowly relax.

‘But you’re clearly very well educated.’ Katie was finding this hard to digest. ‘You know all about history, art, all kinds of stuff. And I did a languages degree at university and your French and Italian sound better than mine.’

‘Grazie tanto!’ Victoria allowed herself a wry smile. ‘I’ve had a succession of really good tutors all my life. The Italian was from Signorina Belluno and the French came from Mademoiselle Lemarchand. I’ve had history teachers, literature teachers, you name it. Of course, what I haven’t had is much in the way of scientific tuition.’ She could see the surprise on Katie’s face. ‘I’m a girl, you see. My father was very, very old-fashioned. As far as he was concerned, girls shouldn’t involve themselves with science. I’ve got all sorts of useless knowledge. I can recite the names of all the popes from St Linus to the present day if I concentrate hard, but I couldn’t tell you how jet propulsion works.’

‘Linus?’ The name sounded familiar to Katie. ‘Wasn’t Linus one of Snoopy’s friends?’