Just Rewards

‘How on earth did you manage to fall?’ Gideon asked. He was sitting on the side of the bed, holding Evan’s hand, gazing into that face he had come to know so intimately in the past year and now loved so much.

She shook her head, gave a small laugh. ‘I don’t know, darling. Just clumsy, I suppose.’

‘Clumsy? You? Never. You’re the most graceful person I know, have ever known, actually. Your mother said it was a fluke accident, so come on, tell me what exactly happened.’

Evan pursed her lips together, her eyes narrowing slightly as she wondered how best to explain. She wasn’t quite sure herself how she had managed to fall in the way she had. Clearing her throat, she explained, ‘I was standing in front of my desk, talking to Angharad … Oh, have you met her? She came to the hospital with Mom and Linnet.’ Her dark brows lifted questioningly.

‘Yes, I’ve met her,’ he murmured, staring hard at her. ‘Are you saying she was in the room with you?’

‘Oh yes, she’d come over to the store to see me. It was very unexpected, I didn’t even know she was in England.’

Gideon felt his hackles rising, and he sat up a little straighter on the bed, looking intently at Evan. ‘So, she was in the room. You were talking to her from behind the desk. And then what?’

‘I reached behind me, pulled the chair towards me, the typing chair I use at my desk. I was quite sure it was right behind me, and I sat down. But it had rolled away, off to one side, and naturally I fell on the floor. With a very hard bump, too.’

Gideon nodded but said nothing. He couldn’t help wondering if Angharad had caused the accident. But how could she have? She was at the other side of the desk … Evan had just told him that. Nonetheless, he couldn’t help thinking she was responsible in some way for Evan’s nasty spill.

‘When you fell did she come to help you?’ he wondered out loud.

‘Yes, she came over to me, but she was really terrified, you know, that I might have badly injured myself, and so she just stood there, asking me if I was okay. I’d felt a stab of pain in my stomach and so I’d brought my legs up, as if trying to protect the boys. Then suddenly Ruth appeared with the water I’d asked her to bring me earlier, and Mom and Linnet were with her. Mom ran to me, got down onto the floor next to me, and I told her to call the doctor.’

Evan now lay back against the pillows, her expression one of bafflement as she murmured, ‘I just don’t know how I could have been so careless, falling like that.’

‘You weren’t careless, sweetheart, it’s as you said it was, a freak accident. Thank God you didn’t injure yourself. Now, let’s get you dressed. Dr Addney says I can take you home, but you have to rest all day. And tonight. Tomorrow evening we’re going to Pennistone Royal instead of on Saturday.’

‘But I—’

‘No buts, Evan, and no arguments. That’s it. I’ve made the decision. The doctor told me you should start maternity leave now. So I’m afraid it’s no more Harte’s, not until well after the twins are born.’

‘Oh, don’t say that! I hope there’ll be lots more Hartes. Well, one Harte in particular,’ Evan said, smiling at him.

‘I certainly hope you’re referring to me.’

‘Of course I am, silly. Who else do I love but you?’

Little things kept coming back to her, things she had forgotten long ago. And yet they had been significant when they happened. Pushed resolutely to the back of her mind, they were now coming to the fore, clear and vivid as they took shape once more. And each memory was shaped and defined by one thing … Angharad’s jealousy and envy of her.

Evan lay under the duvet in the bedroom of Gideon’s flat. Their bedroom now, since she had moved in with him months ago. They had wanted to live together once she had become pregnant; this apart, Gideon’s sister Natalie had returned from her sojourn in Sydney, and because it was her flat Evan was occupying, moving out had become mandatory.

‘And why not live with me, your future husband?’ Gideon had asked, adding, ‘Come live with me, and be my love, and we will all the pleasures prove.’

‘What lovely words.’

‘Yes. But they’re not mine, Evan. They’re Christopher Marlowe’s. However, they truly do reflect my sentiments entirely.’

And mine as well, she thought now, pulling the duvet up around her shoulders, making herself comfortable. Both Dr Addney and Gideon had impressed upon her that she should rest all day and evening, and she knew they were correct. She was all right, no harm had been done, but she’d had a bit of a shock. Rest was the best medicine, just as they had said to her.

Angharad.

The name hung there, floating in mid-air before her eyes.

Evan had not failed to miss the distaste in Gideon’s voice when he had mentioned her sister earlier. And she completely understood why he had sounded that way. With the innovation of the platinum blonde hair and all that awful red clothing she had looked flashy, and just a little bit cheap. And especially when contrasted with their mother, perfectly groomed and turned out in a mélange of soft beiges, and Linnet in her smart black Chanel suit with its pristine white-satin collar and cuffs.

Evan cringed inside at the memory of all that dreadful red. Pretty though Angharad was, she had never looked worse than she did today. It was the hair as well; it did not suit her, was totally inappropriate. Unexpectedly, a thought struck her. Angharad had looked like Mrs Santa Claus in the red outfit and with her platinum blonde hair. Under other circumstances it might have been amusing and she would have laughed, but not today; her coming to the store dressed like that was embarrassing. And how mean-spirited she had been.

Then it came, a sudden flash of memory – and remembrances of a Christmas long ago. In Connecticut. She had been seven, or thereabouts, and Angharad around three and a half, and very jealous of her, competitive even then … It was the Christmas that Evan’s grandmother had given her a puppy, a beautiful chocolate-brown Lab with unusual green eyes. They had named him Hudson, after the river.

‘Gran, Gran, I can’t find Hudson! He’s disappeared,’ Evan wailed, worry ringing her face as she ran into the big family kitchen where her grandmother stood at the long oak table cooking for the Christmas holidays.

Glynnis was making stuffing for the turkey, giblet gravy, apple sauce and all sorts of other good things to eat.

Glancing over her shoulder at Evan, she said, ‘I saw him trotting after Angharad a few minutes ago. Try the solarium, lovey. Perhaps you’ll find them there, playing with his tennis ball.’

Rushing back out into the front hall, Evan now raced down the corridor in the direction of the solarium. When she came to the door which led into the room she was stunned to see Angharad pushing the puppy outside into the snow and then locking the door.

‘Angharad! What are you doing?’ Evan shrieked in alarm, her shoes clattering against the terracotta flagstones as she flew into the solarium. ‘It’s freezing outside, Hudson will die out there. It’s too cold for a little puppy. He’s only nine weeks old! You’re a bad girl, very bad.’

Evan pulled Angharad away from the door, pushed her out of the way roughly, glaring at her and exclaiming, ‘You’re very bad. Bad.’ Frantically unlocking the door, wrenching it open, she ran outside, glanced around, her eyes seeking the puppy. He was nowhere to be seen and her eyes filled up with tears.

‘Hudson, Hudson, where are you?’ she shouted, her voice quavering. He couldn’t be far away, surely not, she thought desperately.

Angharad had come outside and was standing on the steps of the solarium. ‘I’m not a bad girl,’ she yelled at Evan. ‘I hate that puppy. I hate you. It’s the dog that’s bad. It wee-weed in my room. So there, Miss Big Shot!’ She went back inside, banged the solarium door and locked it.

Evan paid no attention to her. She was far too worried about Hudson, intent on finding her puppy. Then she suddenly spotted the little paw prints in the snow, and began to follow them, pulling her cardigan around her shoulders, shivering in the icy wind, regretting she had not stopped to get her coat.

It didn’t take Evan long to find Hudson. The dog had sunk down into a snowdrift against the terrace wall, and was whimpering.

Bending over the snowdrift she almost fell into it herself as she reached down to retrieve Hudson. He was wet and cold, trembling with fright, and still whimpering as she took hold of him firmly and lifted him out.

‘Little Hudsy, here I am. You’re safe,’ Evan soothed. ‘I’ll soon have you warm,’ she whispered against his wet hair, bundling him inside her cardigan, wrapping it around him, cradling him in her arms. Holding him close to her body for extra warmth, she hurried back to the solarium.

Evan turned the knob only to discover that the door had been locked by Angharad. The child stood on the other side of the French doors, making faces at her; she stuck out her tongue, then laughed.

‘Open this door!’ Evan demanded, banging on one of the glass panes, filled with irritation. It was cold in the garden.

‘No, I won’t.’ Angharad put her tongue out again, swung around and ran away from the French doors.

Racing along the path, Evan went to the back door of the house which led straight into the kitchen. Stumbling inside, she brought a blast of cold air with her, which made Glynnis swing around. She looked startled when she saw Evan.

‘You’re going to catch your death of cold, my girl, going out without a coat in this weather,’ Glynnis chastised, then stopped when she saw that Evan had the puppy dog in her arms. She also noticed that the two of them were shivering.

‘Goodness me, whatever happened to Hudson? He looks very wet,’ Glynnis exclaimed, frowning in concern. ‘Here, give him to me, Evan, I’ll wrap him in this warm kitchen towel. As for you, lovey, take off that damp cardigan at once and stand in front of the fire. You’ll be warm and dry in a jiffy.’

‘Yes, Gran,’ Evan said dutifully, handing over the puppy, then struggling out of her damp cardigan which she then laid on the hearth.

Once the puppy was dry and nestling in a cosy bed of thick towels in his basket, Glynnis said, ‘Do you want to tell me what happened, Evan?’

Evan let out a long sigh. ‘I’m not a snitch.’

‘I know that. But how did the puppy get outside in the first place?’

‘I found him in a snowdrift,’ Evan muttered, avoiding answering the question.

‘Certainly Hudson can’t open doors, so somebody must’ve put him outside, Evan. That’s the obvious answer. Perhaps a little girl called Angharad, eh?’

Evan was silent.

‘It was Angharad,’ Elayne announced clearly, walking into the kitchen. ‘I saw her shoving Hudson out into the snow, Grandma.’ Elayne made a face. ‘She’s always jealous of Evan, and me, too.’

Glynnis nodded. ‘I understand. Well, please go and find her, Elayne, and bring her to me. At once.’

Elayne rushed off.

Glynnis looked pointedly at Evan. ‘I know you never want to confront her, but this time Angharad has gone too far.’

When Evan was silent, Glynnis said, ‘You know that, don’t you?’

‘Yes, Gran.’

Within minutes Elayne came back into the kitchen, pulling Angharad along by the hand. At five she was taller and stronger, and so she was able to control the younger child, who was struggling and looked sullen.

When they came to a stop in front of Glynnis, she said in a quiet voice, ‘Angharad, what you did was a cruel thing, putting that defenceless little puppy out in the freezing cold. Hudson would have soon died in that snowdrift, there’s no doubt about that. You’ve been a wicked girl. I don’t often use such a strong word with you, even though you are frequently extremely naughty. However, this time you deserve it.’ Leaning closer, bending slightly, looking into the child’s face, Glynnis asked, ‘Now, explain why you did such a cruel thing.’

‘The dog wee-weed in my room,’ Angharad mumbled.

‘Oh really. That’s surprising, since you usually keep the door closed. Let’s go upstairs, shall we? All of us.’

Glynnis, her face still grim, shepherded her three granddaughters up the front stairs and into the bedroom shared by Angharad and Elayne.

‘Now, show me where the puppy had an accident,’ she said.

Angharad hung back for a split second, then ran to a small, damp spot visible on the light-coloured carpet. She pointed to it. ‘There! It’s there.’

‘It doesn’t look like urine to me,’ Glynnis muttered, and kneeling down, she sniffed the spot, then looked up at Angharad, her face grim again. She said, ‘This spot doesn’t have a smell at all. I think it’s water.’

‘Yes, it is, Grandma,’ Elayne told her. ‘She spilled it last night.’

‘I thought it was something like that,’ Glynnis replied, getting up from the floor. ‘And now you’ve resorted to fibbing, Angharad. Well there’s only one thing to do with a girl who lies. She’s got to be left alone to think about what telling the truth means, how important it is. Girls who lie are not fit for decent company.’

‘I didn’t lie!’ Angharad cried, glaring at Elayne.

‘I believe you did,’ Glynnis exclaimed. ‘And it’s not the first time. You’re to stay here in your room until your father and mother get back from New York with Grandpa. Then we’ll see what happens.’

She walked across the bedroom floor, beckoning to the other two girls. After ushering them out, Glynnis turned and looked at Angharad. ‘I’m not going to lock this door, but don’t you dare come out.’

Once they were back in the kitchen, Glynnis served Evan and Elayne large bowls of chicken vegetable soup and small chicken sandwiches. They ate their lunch dutifully and in total silence, afraid to speak. And Glynnis didn’t say a word either.

It was much later that afternoon, when she was playing with the puppy at one end of the kitchen, that Evan heard her grandmother talking to her mother. ‘There’s something wicked in her, Marietta,’ Glynnis said at one moment. ‘Angharad tells lies, and she has a cruel streak.’ As Marietta began to protest, Glynnis went on firmly, ‘She was an abandoned child … we know nothing about her genes, now admit that’s true, Marietta.’

‘I’m not denying it,’ Marietta finally answered in a low voice. ‘But she is pretty, and she can be very sweet, you know. Very loving.’

‘Yes, most certainly she can, when you’re giving into her, spoiling her,’ Glynnis pointed out.

Marietta did not answer.

Evan, who had listened to this exchange, kept herself hidden at the back of the kitchen, not wanting the two women to become aware of her presence.

As the memory slowly faded, Evan once again accepted that Angharad had not changed very much. She was just as envious and spiteful as she had always been. It struck Evan that Angharad had come to the store today spoiling for a fight, had wanted to upset her intentionally. And if they hadn’t quarrelled she wouldn’t have fallen, would she?

Evan shivered slightly and huddled deeper into the bedclothes. And then she was filled with relief that she hadn’t mentioned their quarrel to Gideon. She was certain he had already spotted something in Angharad which he didn’t like. His tone of voice had given him away. Angharad would never find favour with him, of that she was aware.

CHAPTER FIVE

It’s exquisite,’ India Standish said, looking at the diamond tiara resting on a square of black velvet laid on the dining room table at Niddersley House. ‘And I would love to wear it on my wedding day …’ Her voice trailed off and there was a moment’s hesitation before she asked, ‘As long as you don’t think it’s too much, Grandma?’

‘Do you mean too grand, India?’ Edwina asked. Edwina, Dowager Countess of Dunvale, gazed across the table at her only granddaughter and favourite grandchild.

‘Well, yes, sort of,’ India admitted. ‘Is it a bit over the top?’ She raised a blonde brow questioningly, her eyes focused on her grandmother. ‘I mean, for these days?’

Edwina did not answer for a moment. Instead she stared at the tiara, her head on one side, her eyes thoughtful. After a moment she murmured, ‘No, it’s not too grand for today, nor was it ever, for any day, my dear, and it’s certainly not very elaborate … just two bands of diamonds linked by interlocking circles of diamonds, with the large circle at the front holding a diamond star in a smaller circle.’

Nodding to herself, Edwina informed India, ‘It’s Victorian, you know. It belonged to Adele Fairley, my grandmother and your great-great-grandmother. That’s why it occurred to me you might like to wear it on such an important day in your life. It’s part of your family history.’

India responded, ‘Yes, I understand, and it is beautiful, Gran. Perhaps I should try it on to see how it looks.’

‘Yes, why don’t you do that.’ Edwina motioned to the end wall. ‘There’s a looking glass over there, and plenty of light from the windows on either side.’

India rose, leaned over the table, and lifted the tiara with both hands. Moving across to the mirror, she placed the diamond circle on her head and stared at herself. She saw at once that Edwina was correct. Once the tiara was on her head, it didn’t look quite so grand after all, perhaps because of the cloud of hair around her face and the simple design. And it did suit her, no two ways about that; much to her surprise, it was also comfortable to wear. For a moment India attempted to visualize herself in her wedding veil and the tiara, and unexpectedly she liked the image floating in her head. She turned around and exclaimed, ‘What do you think, Gran?’

Edwina’s answer was to beam at her. ‘It suits you, India, and it doesn’t look … over the top, as you call it. Your veil will be held in place perfectly. Now, tell me, what is your wedding gown going to be like? You told me Evan was designing it.’

‘Yes, she is, and I’ve only seen the first sketches of it, but I love her design. We’ve chosen the fabric already, a pale-ivory taffeta, light in weight, because when the dress is finished it’s going to be worn over an underskirt of layered net, for a very bouffant effect like an old-fashioned ballgown. The bodice is tightly fitted and there are big, puffy sleeves, slightly off the shoulder. Actually, it’s Victorian in style, Gran, now that I think about it. I’ve asked Evan to keep it plain and understated, no embroidery on it.’

‘It sounds as if it will be lovely, my dear, and I feel sure the tiara will be the perfect adornment since it is Victorian like the gown. So, are you going to wear it on your wedding day to please an old lady?’

India smiled at her grandmother, then turned again to the mirror, gazing at herself for a split second. As she swung around to face Edwina, she exclaimed, ‘Yes, Grandma, I’d love to wear your tiara and thank you for thinking of it.’

Edwina returned India’s smile with one equally as loving. ‘Adele’s tiara, that’s how I regard it. Would you like to take it with you today? Or do you prefer to leave it here for safe-keeping?’

‘I think I’d better do that, actually. You have that enormous safe and I don’t even have a small one in my flat. Besides, it’s only January, Gran, I’m not getting married until June. So yes, it would be much safer here for the next six months, I think.’

‘I understand …’ Edwina sat back in the chair and watched India as she walked over to the dining table, took off the tiara and placed it on the black velvet, thinking what a lovely young woman she had become. She had the finely-drawn aristocratic looks and pale-blonde colouring of Adele Fairley, as did her cousin Tessa Fairley; in fact, the two could easily be mistaken for sisters, and often were by strangers.

‘Shall I put the tiara in its box, Grandma? Or do you want Frome to do it?’

Edwina laughed. ‘You’d better do it, he’s far too slow these days. It’ll take him half an hour to get the tiara in its box, never mind into the safe. Old age creeping up, I’m afraid.’

India’s mouth twitched with laughter. ‘You are funny, Gran, the way you go on about Frome getting old. He can’t be more than fifty if he’s a day.’

‘Fifty’s about right,’ Edwina confirmed, still chuckling to herself. ‘But he’s dreadfully slow lately. You know very well I’m much faster at everything, even though I am ninety-five.’

‘And quite remarkable!’ India exclaimed.

‘Imagine, Emma was only sixteen when I was born. She took me off to her cousin Freda’s in Ripon to be brought up, at least when I was a baby …’ Edwina stopped somewhat abruptly and sat there staring out of the window, as if remembering something from long, long ago, her eyes full of a curious yearning.

After a moment of watching her, India asked softly, ‘Are you all right, Grandmother?’

‘Oh, yes, I am, India, I am. And I hope I remain so. At least until I see you well and truly married to Dusty.’ Pushing herself to her feet, she continued, ‘And shouldn’t we be on our way to have lunch with him at Willows Hall?’

‘Yes, we had better go,’ India agreed, and put the tiara back in the worn, black-leather box where it belonged, then laid the black velvet cover over it. Closing the lid and fastening the small catch, India looked across at her grandmother and said, ‘Shall I put it in the safe?’

‘Absolutely. It’ll be quicker, as I just said, if you do it. Come along, my dear, I’ll take you to the safe. And then we’ll be off. It was nice of you to come and fetch me, India. I could’ve been driven over to Dusty’s by Rupert, you know. He doesn’t have much driving to do, as it is.’

‘Oh that’s all right, Grandma. I wanted to come. To see you and to spend a little extra time with you.’

They crossed the hall together and went down a corridor towards the room where an enormous safe was housed. As she followed Edwina, India went on, ‘I think you’d better wear a warm coat, Grandma, it’s bitterly cold today, and it could snow again.’

‘I will, my dear. I have a lovely quilted coat Paula got for me. From Harte’s, of course.’

‘Mr Rhodes, I’m sorry to bother you, but there’s a Mrs Roebotham here. With Atlanta,’ Paddy Whitaker said from the doorway of the studio.

Dusty’s head came up with a jerk, surprise flickering in his eyes. ‘Atlanta?’

‘Yes, Mr Rhodes,’ the house manager confirmed. ‘They’re in the kitchen at the moment. Atlanta likes Angelina, as you well know.’

Alarmed though he was by this altogether unexpected news, Russell Rhodes, one of the world’s greatest artists, managed to keep his face neutral. Dusty, as he was commonly known, put the paintbrush down carefully, even though his stomach was churning all of a sudden; he managed somehow to keep his movements deliberate and totally controlled. His mind was racing, trying to fathom what had happened to the child’s grandmother. Obviously something had. That was why Atlanta was here.

Turning away from the easel, Dusty asked, ‘What’s the problem? Did this Mrs Roebotham say?’

‘No, but she has a suitcase. It’s Atlanta’s. And the woman appears to be nervous and obviously quite worried. However, she wouldn’t say a word to me, Mr Rhodes. She just repeated several times that she had to speak to you and only you.’

‘I understand. I’ll come up to the house with you right away, Paddy.’ Moving across the floor of the studio swiftly, Dusty glanced at his watch and asked, ‘Is everything under control for lunch?’

Paddy, still framed in the doorway of the studio, nodded his head. ‘Angelina has finished setting the table in the dining room, and Valetta’s in the middle of cooking lunch. Everything smells delicious, as usual. I have the white wine cooling. Pouilly Fumé. No problems, at least not with lunch, sir.’

‘I’m sure not. Thanks, Paddy. By the way, you’d better make sure the dining room is warm. The countess feels the cold these days, so Lady India tells me.’

‘The fire’s blazing and I turned the central heating on a while ago. Kept it low, though.’